Getting Invited in Someone's Home - Dhaka Tales

One of the treats of foreign travel is the pleasure of "getting invited" into someone's home. When my tour guide Mafuz declared that we were finally dropping by his house, my ears were flapping with excitement. Doing so would usher me inside the lives of the locals, far removed from any touristy things. Of course, he wanted me to meet his mother who had medical problems so it wasn't like I was the one getting all the pleasures.

We had to walk up some flight of stairs, and I was asked not to remove my shoes although slippers gathered at the foot of the stairs. I saw the living room with low-rise (2-feet) sofas and huge pillows lying alongside a carpet. The walls were adorned with miniature frames.

I was taken to Mafuz's room where I noticed stacks of Bangladesh brochures. Mafuz reached for a couple and handed them to me, and started looking for one that carried a map (I had been trying to buy a map of Dhaka, but never found one). After a few minutes, his sisters came carrying sweets and a mug of Bengali tea, one of the tastiest I've had in a while. When I finally met his mother, I stood up and tentatively extended my right hand for a handshake - not even sure if it was customary. (Of course it was.)

An hour later, I was on my way back to my hotel, content with having new found friends. There was a big smile on my face.

This is the Eye in the Sky.