What do I really think about Bangladesh?

Questions. Always the same questions. I am sitting with a colleague in a restaurant during our lunch break. I try to smile. “Yes, I like Bangladesh. It’s a very beautiful country and has an amazing culture”, I reply. “I did not expect that before coming here. You have a lot of talented and educated people."

“Ha”, my colleague says, seemingly satisfied. He starts talking about the culture, about the language, about the history. I am nodding. My colleague keeps on talking, he is so enthusiastic, but I am not really listening.

I have had this kind of conversation a hundred times. People ask me how I like it here and what I think of Bangladesh. I usually say what they want to hear so I can move on from the topic. I say that Bangladesh is an incredible country. I say that I really enjoy my time here. But is that true? Is that really true? Do I like Bangladesh? I don’t know.

It has already been two months since I arrived. It feels as I should know by now. But somehow I do not. “We are not good in marketing our country to the rest of the world” my colleague goes on. “People believe we are poor and not very educated.” I agree.

“Yes, you should try to create a better image of your country.” We are leaving the restaurant and going back to the office. It is a hot and humid day. The streets are full of people. Cars are using their horns. It is loud. So loud.

We are reaching the office. I am happy to go inside, to escape from the noise and heat. I start working again but cannot really focus. Something is different today. The question still sticks to my head. Do I like Bangladesh?  Do I like Dhaka, I ask myself. The truth is: I hate the traffic, I hate the dust, I hate the noise.

Sometimes, when I cannot reach a decision I play a little game. I ask myself what I will think in ten years. Then I realise, in ten years, when I look back on this time, I will not think of the noise, the dust or the traffic. I will think of the people – the people I learnt to love.

I will remember their hospitality and their interest in me. I will remember sitting outside with my colleagues at night, listening to them play music. I will remember their strong voices, voices which had to tell a story – the story of Bangladesh.

Suddenly, my perception changes. I no longer see a suffering country. I do not see an overcrowded country. I do not see a poor country. I see a country that was once defeated, but then stood up again.

I see a country which is drastically overpopulated and yet welcomes refugees from Myanmar. I see a country where people might not believe in their leaders, but they believe in their nation and in their chance to escape poverty. Now I know. Noise comes with liveliness, traffic comes with development, dirt comes with growth.

A few weeks later I am having a coffee with a friend. She asks me if I liked Bangladesh. This time I smile.

Kai Schmidt is a young business graduate from Germany. He is employed in the Dhaka offices of a German investing firm and is currently working as a consultant for a leading e-commerce company in Bangladesh.