I am once again in Bangladesh with my sustainable development class to study the dynamic environment of the Ganges-Brahmaputra Delta and the people living on it. Our group of 25 people—10 Columbia University students, one professor from Czechia, 10 Dhaka University (DU) students, two DU professors and my daughter—has been joined by two people, Tapas and Sakib, from BRAC, the world’s largest NGO. Tapas and Sakib are working with me on a project to develop adaptations for southwest Bangladesh, where there is insufficient fresh water, heat waves are increasing, and agriculture and aquaculture need to adapt to climate change. We are all crowded onto the 85-foot M/V Kokilmoni in the Sundarbans mangrove forest. Over our journey, all the students are becoming fast friends.
We woke up at Andharmanik, a new tourist site in the northern part of the Sundarbans, where we will spend the next two days. It is a nice interlude after days of bus rides and interviews in oppressive heat. After breakfast we went on a walk along a newly created path through the forest. Not much wildlife besides the penned deer near the entrance, but we could walked through the diversity of trees and plants of the forest, including lots of epiphytes, or air plants, that live in trees.
We then continued south to Katka, arriving 5-6 hours later. We disembarked for another longer forest walk with numerous deer, monkeys, wild boar, a variety of birds and a cobra along the way. Passing several mounds of broken pottery, we saw some 300-year-old salt-making kilns. People would make salt pans at the spring high tide level. Water would evaporate into a brine during the two weeks between spring high tides. Then the pots would be filled with the brine and heated over the kilns to create pots of salt. We think the salt-making was destroyed by a cyclone in 1699. Along the coast, we could see the remains of the buildings destroyed by Cyclone Sidr in 2007, which hit the coast as a Category 4 storm.
After the walk, we crossed the channel for a short walk to the new observation tower, passing tiger ferns, where the big cats like to hide. Late in the afternoon, there were dozens of deer grazing in the open patches of the forest, while birds were visible in the nearby trees. A few people tried to walk over to the deer, but they scattered as the people approached.
Evening in the boats included lots of card games among mixed U.S.-Bangladeshi students, but we also had lectures by Tapas and Sakib about climate change programs at BRAC, including our joint project and a lecture by me on the groundwater hydrology of Bangladesh. Both prompted lots of questions and discussions. What was theoretical and distant in New York is now real and personal.
The next morning, we all climbed onto the country boat for a silent boat ride in a tidal channel at dawn to see wildlife. We mostly saw birds, but deep into the forest, we heard two loud, very low growls that we think must have been a tiger. We then sailed to Dimer Char. In the past, this was a great place to see the succession from bare sand to grasses to shrubs to trees to mangroves. However, where we landed had eroded, so we mostly saw a transition from sand to mangroves with many dead stumps, both on shore and underwater. After a long walk, we had a swim stop at a beach. Entering the water at the head of the Bay of Bengal, there is no land south of us until Antarctica, 10,000 km away.
Our final stop in the Sundarbans was delayed by a thunderstorm. Once it passed, we went to Kochikhali and walked to the Tiger Point observation tower. In addition to deer, monkeys, birds and boar, we came across frogs less than a half-inch long. After the walk, we started heading north out of the forest. By the morning, we had reached the Sharankhola District. We tried to visit a different village than in 2023, but the Kokilmoni got stuck on a sand bar right in front of Kumarkhali. Fate decided we should return here while the Kokilmoni freed itself. Onshore, the Columbia and DU students spread out to interview the residents about climate change, migration and heat stress, while Elizabeth and I walked with Romeo, our guide. We ended up hanging out with a lovely family who fed us green coconuts and we watched as the children played more games.
After meeting up with everyone at the embankment that protects the town, previously devastated by Cyclone Sidr, we had lunch at the nearby primary school and cyclone shelter. Instead of our expected packed lunch, the Kokilmoni crew set up a regular smorgasbord of food complete with sterno cans to keep dishes warm. After lunch, the students continued a few more interviews, but then bought lots of watermelon and green coconuts for our last night on the boat.
The final meal was a delicious BBQ of chicken, fish and grilled vegetables. That last evening on the top deck featured discussions about the trip and making friends. One of my students song a song in Bangla with one of the DU students. Many students stayed up late, talking and playing cards for their last night together.
We left the boat early in the morning to visit the 60 dome mosque on the way back to Dhaka. It was completed in 1459 by Khan Jahan, an early “pir,” or Muslim saint, who cleared the land and established a community centered around what is now the city of Bagerhat. The columns of the mosque are stone, meaning that had to be shipped from India at great expense. Behind the mosque is a giant pond for fresh water that is 21 acres, a huge expanse that had to be dug by hand. We then continued on to Dhaka, crossing the Padma Bridge over the river of that name, the combined Ganges and Brahmaputra. The bridge opened in 2023 and is over six kilometers long, with piles extending 127 meters into the ground to support it in this sandy deltaic land.
The bridge meant that we saved many hours of travel compared to crossing the river by ferry. We drove to Dhaka University and toured the school, including Curzon Hall, built in 1904-1908 under the British raj, and the Shahid Minar, the monument to the students killed at the language protests in 1952, when then East Pakistan protested the proclamation that Urdu and only Urdu was the language of all of Pakistan. From the University we went to the nearby large new Aarong, the world’s largest handicrafts store. Started in 1978 by BRAC to empower rural artisans, it now supports over 75,000 fair trade artisans. After the spending spree, we had dinner and then said farewell with a lot of hugs and tears as we headed to the airport to return home, with an additional suitcase for all the gifts that were bought.
Many of my students said that this trip had changed them forever, with nine days of seeing this flat but dynamic landscape, and bonding with the DU students and spending time hearing the stories of the rural villagers living on this sometimes fickle land. People who, despite being poor, opened that arms to us, sharing what little food they had to make us welcome. Now my students and my daughter know why I continue to return to Bangladesh year after year.
