I’ve been here in Rayenda for about six weeks now and have been forced into a diet heavy in Bangladeshi fare and very light in anything I would recognise or know the name of. Fortunately, I’ve had plenty of time for my taste buds to adapt and I think I may have even found a thing or two I like. I’m still not too crazy on squash mosh or the meals that involve eating fish heads but I’ve found that filling my day with the following goodies makes things a lot more unhealthy and a little more bearable.
Ice Cream – The day someone came home with a report of a freezer in the market was a happy one and that news sent ripples of joy throughout the volunteer house. Freezers mean cold and cold means ice cream. To solve the problem of it melting before we can get it home we all head down with spoons in hand ready to devour the tubs while curious locals watch the feeding frenzy most likely in disgust.
Chocolate – Bangladeshis aren’t nearly as fond of chocolate as us Westerners and given the terrible quality of the stuff we found in Rayenda, it’s no wonder. There’s no shortage of selection but what’s on offer is tasteless and an insult to chocolate everywhere. We decided a taste test was in order and set out to find the best Bangla chocolate but unfortunately it was all terrible. The worst of the lot was a tube-like bar with three flavours of icing in the middle and a chocolate coating that had the taste and texture of styrofoam. We dubbed this abomination the ‘Tri-Flavoured Chocolate Covered Poop Log’. Luckily we discovered the ‘Chocolate Pimp’ who has access to imported chocolate from Malaysia which is reasonably enjoyable and allows us to get our fix without questioning whether what we are eating is actually food or not.
Sweet stuff – Bangladesh makes up for its lack of edible chocolate by injecting copious amounts of sugar into various types of dough or bread and when none of that is available they deep fry sugar itself. The result is a tasty but diabetes-inducing selection of treats. The most lethal of them all is mishti, a ball of dough soaked in a sugary syrup so that the ball oozes sickly sweetness with each bite. It’s kind of soggy and gross but kind of addictive as well. I suspect they’re laced with crack.
Fried stuff – When the sweet stuff gets to be too much, there is always plenty of fried stuff on the go. Market areas are lined with stalls equipped with big pans of deep frying oil and lots of greasy goodies perched on the edge. Paratha, mogli, shingola… the name, the shape and the fillings change but the greasiness lives on in each. Paratha are discs of deep fried yumminess that are usually dipped into dhal, mogli are rectangles of relative grossness filled with egg and strange vegetables, and shingola are delicious triangular samosa type things with a spicy potato mixture inside. I can feel my arteries clogging just looking at that photo.
Soft drinks – The discovery of the ice cream man led to the discovery that soft drinks could be put into said ice cream man’s freezer and thus we were re-introduced to the world of cold drinks. With the temperature rising to ridiculous heights and humidity being even more ridiculous, cold drinks have become our saviour after a long day in the sun. The selection is pretty limited with old classics such as 7-Up and Sprite competing with local favourites for our business. Bangla choices include such unknown varieties as Chaser, Fizz Up, Pran Up, Upper 10, and Clemon (also possibly called C-Lemon but we might never know). Taste tests make for an entertaining and useful time killer so we conducted a blind taste test with all seven lemon-lime pop varieties. All were served warm to take away any possible advantages but downing 7 samples of warm pop was too much for some of our participants and drinks were soon flying off of the roof rather instead of being drunk. When all drinks were eventually tasted and our stomachs were full of sub-par fizzy lemon drinks the winner was 7-Up followed closely by Sprite. The best of the Bangla choices was Clemon (C-Lemon?) with Pran-Up pulling up the rear. What kind of lame name is Pran-Up anyways?
Tea – Tea stalls are to Bangladesh what pubs are to the UK. There’s at least one on every corner, they’re crowded with shouty old men and they serve up drinks that will lead to certain heart failure if not drunk in moderation. Pubs serve alcohol, Bangladeshi tea stalls serve cups of sugar with a bit of tea added for flavour. If you ask for milk you get condensed milk. Best tea ever.
All of these yummy things have been keeping me distracted from the fact that even the most delicious meal gets dull the sixth time you see it in a week. These little indulgences are keeping us all sane for the moment but I’m sure any of us would trade all of these things for a big ass Toblerone.
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