10th of May, 2023.
Hitchhiking in India.
A man in a small van drive me for about 10 kilometres. Then, I don’t know if anybody else picked me up, but my notes only show about Dibyendu, a really nice man who gives me a lift in his motorbike all the way to the border. We ride together for a long time, perhaps up to one hour. And we stop at some point to have some chai. Dibyendu is a very caring man, and when we arrive to the border, he tells me that, if I need anything, I can just call him, and even knowing that I don’t have a mobile phone, he gives me his phone number and also his e-mail address.
It’s ironic how things work. It took me three days to arrive to Bangladesh border (called Harisdapur in the Indian side, and Benapole in Bangladesh side), all the way from Sonauli border, in Nepal, and a lot of effort too. How could I possibly imagine that once here, I wouldn’t be able to actually enter the country. In the opposite of so many wrong information online, it happens that Brazilians cannot get a tourist Visa on arrival, neither online, it must be done from the Bangladesh Embassy, in India.
The problem is, I only get to know this once I have already “left” India, and got an exit stamp from India on my passport. The people working in the immigration of Bangladesh are actually very nice, and they try to help me, asking to different people and going from one place to another. But in the end, there’s no other way: I must go back to India. They tell me I can go back to Kolkata and look for the Bangladesh representation, and ask for the tourist Visa.
It’s a bit late to go back to Kolkata now. I plan to get there at once next morning, get the Visa, and manage to cross to Bangladesh all in the same day. For that, I need a place to stay tonight. Dibyendu has told me he leaves nearby the border. I paid attention, when we were coming, to which was the exit he showed me to be to his village, so when I got back from the border with someone, I asked to be dropped right by that exit.
Asking for help in a floor shop, I am most welcome by the man working there. We contact Dibyendu and soon enough he comes to meet me.
We go to his parent’s house. His own house, where he lives with wife and kids, is in another village, he came here today just to spend the night with his parents. He is a physiotherapist, and has his equipment with him, as he was just visiting a patient. His parents are both very senior, and a neighbour lady does the cooking for them. Dibyendu is kind enough to check on my right heel, which has been killing me for a very long time now. He uses one of his equipment on it, and tell me that with a few more sessions he could fix the problem. Even after this single session I already feel less pain.
We go in his motorbike to visit a doctor friend of him, who’s small office is by the railway. This part of the village is actually nice because the railway is surrounded by a green area and also a river. I think is quite scenic and beautiful.
After talking with his family on the phone, Dibyendu realizes he must go back home tonight. But he assures me that it is not a problem for me to stay here with his parents tonight. It will be easier to get a lift to Kolkata from here than from where he lives.
I share a bed with his mum, and his father sleeps in another room. Next morning, some neighbour help me to get to a train station. I don’t remember exactly when and how, but I manage to get directions to the Bangladesh High Commission building in Kolkata, and Dibyendu told me I can take a train from here to Kolkata and nobody will check for a ticket. That’s what I do.
10 Years Around the World 