My final trip out of Dhaka before coming home was to the Sunderbans, which in Bengali literally translates to "beautiful forest". It's the largest mangrove swamp in the world- but it looks like a different planet. All the trees have aerial roots that stick up out of the ground like straws. There is no soil- only mud. lots and lots of mud. The kind of mud that makes a sound like the end of the ketchup bottle every time you take a step. Everyone who lives here says it is a must-see, so my trusty band of Canadians and I decided to experience it for ourselves. We set out on a special excursion, one that coincided with the kickoff to the honey collecting season. Honey is a major commodity of the Sunderbans, and the mowalis (honey hunters) leave their families for the month of April and spend 30 days in the jungle searching for monstrous bee hives of death. In the course of the month, an average of twelve mowalis will die via attack by Royal Bengal Tiger. Bees. Tigers. Mud. the three ingredients for a relaxing vacation.
After an uncomfortable 10 hour coach ride next to a guy who climbed over me to go pee so much I actually think he has undiagnosed diabetes, we boarded our river vessel. This mothership was to be our home for the next four days, bravely taking us into the unknown depths of the forest. We spent a whole day cruising and playing cards, reading, and relaxing. The next day was spent doing pretty much the same. Late that afternoon, however, we went on our first honey hunt.
We followed the honey hunters, our guide, and two armed guards with rifles circa WWI deep into the jungle. After wading around in mud for about 15 minutes and fording river channels I've seen only on Oregon Trail, we heard the distinct victory shriek of a mowali. We rushed over to find a bee hive about four feet long and two feet tall hanging from an immense mangrove. The whole thing was swarming with over 1000 2-inch bees. I was about six to ten feet from it. The mowalis started their smoke torches, which disorients the bees and prevents them from stinging. Under the cover of smoke, we watched as the mowalis brushed away hundreds of bees with their bear hands and cut large chunks of the honeycomb into a collecting pot. As the bees were swarming all around us, we covered our faces and prayed they were drunk enough off of the smoke to leave us alone.
After running like banshees away from the hive, we stop at a safe distance to survey the loot. Mowalis can extract up to six kilograms of honey from a single hive. They don't destroy the hive, and in fact this practice promotes forest development by prompting the bees to re-pollinate vegetation in order to rebuild their hive. We visited two more combs in that first trek, and saw some pretty significant tiger prints. It was enough to scare the crap out of me, and I was glad when we made it back to the boat sans beestings and with all of our limbs.
We came back to the main boat covered in mud, sweaty, dirty, and triumphant. I went out three more times the next day. The pictures don't do it justice. This was seriously one of the most incredible, mind-boggling, and adventurous things I've ever done. I'm content to do it once...and leave it at that.
This was the perfect bookend to my Bangladesh experience. After coming back from the Sunderbans, I have only three days to get everything together before I leave. I can't think of a better way to spend my last weekend in Dhaka than almost getting eaten alive.
After an uncomfortable 10 hour coach ride next to a guy who climbed over me to go pee so much I actually think he has undiagnosed diabetes, we boarded our river vessel. This mothership was to be our home for the next four days, bravely taking us into the unknown depths of the forest. We spent a whole day cruising and playing cards, reading, and relaxing. The next day was spent doing pretty much the same. Late that afternoon, however, we went on our first honey hunt.
We followed the honey hunters, our guide, and two armed guards with rifles circa WWI deep into the jungle. After wading around in mud for about 15 minutes and fording river channels I've seen only on Oregon Trail, we heard the distinct victory shriek of a mowali. We rushed over to find a bee hive about four feet long and two feet tall hanging from an immense mangrove. The whole thing was swarming with over 1000 2-inch bees. I was about six to ten feet from it. The mowalis started their smoke torches, which disorients the bees and prevents them from stinging. Under the cover of smoke, we watched as the mowalis brushed away hundreds of bees with their bear hands and cut large chunks of the honeycomb into a collecting pot. As the bees were swarming all around us, we covered our faces and prayed they were drunk enough off of the smoke to leave us alone.
After running like banshees away from the hive, we stop at a safe distance to survey the loot. Mowalis can extract up to six kilograms of honey from a single hive. They don't destroy the hive, and in fact this practice promotes forest development by prompting the bees to re-pollinate vegetation in order to rebuild their hive. We visited two more combs in that first trek, and saw some pretty significant tiger prints. It was enough to scare the crap out of me, and I was glad when we made it back to the boat sans beestings and with all of our limbs.
We came back to the main boat covered in mud, sweaty, dirty, and triumphant. I went out three more times the next day. The pictures don't do it justice. This was seriously one of the most incredible, mind-boggling, and adventurous things I've ever done. I'm content to do it once...and leave it at that.
This was the perfect bookend to my Bangladesh experience. After coming back from the Sunderbans, I have only three days to get everything together before I leave. I can't think of a better way to spend my last weekend in Dhaka than almost getting eaten alive.
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