They have a copy of India’s Taj Mahal about an hour north of Sonargaon. Much smaller, less intricate, and somehow totally failing to inspire the grandeur and awe of the real thing, but it’s filled with happy people (more selfies) and a pleasant place to hang out and breathe.
You see, Dhaka is the most polluted megacity in the world. Beijing is number two. It feels good to just breathe normally out here in Bangladesh’s green countryside. If only the highway that my tuk-tuk used to get me there wasn’t packed with ancient large trucks belching diesel fumes. The tuk-tuk used the curb to pass trucks, sometimes leaning dangerously, except in that one place where a decomposing cow blocked the way. The informal traffic rules here also permit turning into oncoming traffic, which then somehow manages to avoid a collision. Usually. Eventually I had to head back to Dhaka, and as always, friendly people helped me find the right bus.