Maybe, maybe not, but these guys all have interesting faces. These early morning gentlemen were hanging about the Rickshaw yard waiting for the morning chill to pass. Stay tuned for photos…from Jamaica, where i’m heading later this week!
I was riding my bike through the streets of Manhattan the other day and thought: “Holy crap, this is nuts.” New York streets are chaos. I’d never really noticed before how anarchic the pedestrians (and bikers) are in this city. … Continued
Heading to the office seemed to take on new meaning at the Dhakan rickshaw yard. The packed dirt ground was covered in trash and slick with maroon betel nut stains, the Bangladeshi equivalent of chewing tobacco. Animal, children and men wandered around … Continued
Not everybody in the Rickshaw yard trikes around town. A support staff of mechanics. vendors and hangers-on orbit the rickshaw universe, providing much needed services (like a caffeine or flat-tire fix). A while back I posted a photo of … Continued
It’s hard to imagine much ever changes in Dhaka’s crowded, frenetic old city. Rickshaws still clog its arteries. Soot spilling trucks narrowly squeeze through the scrum. Men wearing plaid headscarves plod the streets while women in saris glowing orange, lime … Continued
There’s no time for a breakdown in Old Dhaka, whose narrow roads are framed by crumbling buildings and offer little wiggle room for a disabled rickshaw, let alone car. Despite this, Old Dhaka’s abuzz with commerce and people haggling in … Continued