Cox's Bazaar...heaven on earth

I can feel myself growing as a human being, becoming a better person, more thoughtful, conscious, with integrity and beauty and breadth. Cox’s bazaar seemed to be heaven on earth, and it is so strange that it can be juxtaposed with the horror of the city. Chittagong itself is just a huge slum, and I think in many ways, it is the most awful place I have ever been…
Mermaid is located 15 km outside of Cox’s Bazaar, the largest natural beach in the world. Pechar Dwip, Himchori, is just far enough away that you get the same kind of nature but without the tourist traps or the disturbance of many people. It was the most peaceful place I’ve been, and the first time I’ve felt safe since I got on the airplane in JFK.
Cox’s Bazaar was idyllic. There is no other way to describe it…the kids run around naked and there is no threat of violence or sexual undertones. The men are respectful and I do not feel like I need to swath my body to hide it from them. The staff was attentive but gave us privacy, and they have easy smiles and everything feels relaxed and happy. As you can see from my photos, it is mother nature’s finest handiwork…sandy beaches, epic skies, vivid colors and tastes and sunshine and storms…it is the real Bangladesh, away from the twisted corruption of Chittagong. Mermaid itself is an ethically and astutely run resort, incorporating ideals of fair trade, women’s empowerment, and eco-tourism. Eco-tourism, for those of you who are unaware, is defined as traveling responsibly to fragile, pristine, and usually protected areas without disturbing the natural eco-systems. Eco-resorts purport to educate and facilitate interaction with that native environment, provide funds for conservation, directly benefit the economic development and political empowerment of local communities, and foster respect for different cultures and for human rights. Mermaid certainly fit these criteria, and moreover, was luxurious without ostentation or infringement. All of the buildings and floors were made from recycled materials from the shipwrecking yards (for instance, the second-floor of our bungalow was made from part of the deck of a ship), and all the food was organic and locally-grown. They had the best fresh fruit drinks (papaya and mango were my favorites), and the food was by far the best I’ve had in this country. Every morning, they made crepes with honey and chocolate sauce, as well as fruit and omelets. The fish was also quite good apparently, and I really enjoyed pasta and kebob. I also got my first professional massage—it was so great. He used hot oils that smelled so good, and also oiled my hair which rejuvenated my curls from the harsh water here. The masseuse was extremely respectful, and I didn’t feel uncomfortable at any point.
Jenine’s friend Micky, the Bangladeshi businessman, also joined us for a day. He is so sweet and very fatherly; he treats me like a daughter (I’m just a few years older than his two kids), and he was very generous and treated Jenine and me to meals and a ride in his very nice car back to Chittagong. He is extremely influential and important in Bangladesh, but also so humble—he’s a good man who works very hard, and devotes so much of his time and money to philanthropy as well.
Jenine and I had a lot of good time on our own together too. We meditated, and she is teaching me a great deal about life and experiences and philosophies. She is a kind of spiritual teacher for me, and I look up to her a lot. We stayed in this bungalow right on the edge of the water, I had the bottom floor and she had the top, and we also had a private porch area and a deck where we could do yoga. The bathroom was so clean and fresh, and it had all these nice-smelling shampoos; it was also partly outside, and the shower was on top of this huge stone, which was really cool.
The most meaningful part of the whole trip for me was playing with the local kids. We met them when we took the boat from the resort to the beach, and at first they were very reserved. But slowly, they opened up to us…I’ve found that my camera is the perfect way to interact with kids, especially useful in overcoming language barriers. We played with them for hours the first day, but it was the second day that made the greatest impression on me. There was one little girl that really attached herself to me, and although I enjoyed playing with all of them, she has changed my life. I finally found my maternal streak, I guess. Neither of us spoke any language in common (except for two words I learned, “friend” and “sister”), but we managed to communicate for hours. She and the other kids would show me their treasures—shells, or a crab they caught, or some flowers. Jenine and I played in the ocean with them too, racing them in the waves and swimming with them. We also showed them some of the books we had brought along, they seemed fascinated even though I’m sure they couldn’t understand a word. My favorite little girl even tried on my shoes, and got such a kick out of us being the same shoe size. She would wander around, prattling about who knows what in Bangla, and she would ask me questions. I’d answer as earnestly as I could, and she would look up at me with complete concentration, all the while holding my hand in hers and prancing at my side. I taught her how to use my camera, and she definitely has an eye for composition! I was so proud of her, she took such great photos after just a short time. We really enjoyed taking them together; she would position our hands together or something (she was fascinated by the differences in our skin tones), and then have me take the picture. She also took two incredible self-portraits, very close to her face and showing her intense eyes. She took care of her little brother the whole time too—he is the naked one with the bells wrapped around his waist, playing with the machete. She was so caring with him, and she took some great portraits of him as well as her other brothers and friends. She even took one of her father, who was working on the beach. She tried to invite me to her home (I gathered that after awhile, I wasn’t sure where she tried to take me at first), but I decided it wouldn’t be such a great idea to go. She literally tried to drag me over, and got quite upset when I couldn’t come with her. She even started crying when it was time for me to leave…I felt so badly, and I felt like she gave me such a gift, I wanted to give her something too. I gave her one of my bracelets, and she looked so happy! She also shared it with her siblings, putting it on her brothers and taking photos of it on my camera. I really hope that she will remember me, that maybe someday I’ll be able to find her again, or at least that someday she might get the opportunity to have a camera of her own. She certainly deserves it, and I know she’ll capture the world either in her mind’s eye or hopefully with a lens. I actually miss her a lot, I’ve never had such an intense connection with anyone without the barest form of language…my last memory of her is when she and her friends were milling about our boat as we clambored in, and then all of a sudden, she popped up right behind me and yelled the word “surprise” in Bangla. She had a laugh like bells, and then tumbled into the sea and pushed our boat out into the water. She stood waving for awhile, gave me an impish smile, and then led the pack of boys away back towards the trees. She left an indelible mark on me, and I am grateful that I could at least record some of it with my camera…and I am so thankful that I could experience the catharsis of sand and sunshine and solace and deep connections.