Being in Bangladesh with my whole family for the first time in more than a decade brought a feeling of home like no other. As I arrived in Bangladesh in January, the sights, sounds and smells of my family’s homeland seemed wonderfully familiar. The scent of pure smoke filled my nostrils as the warm air enveloped me. Leaving the airport, all I could hear was the beeping of cars and men hollering in my native tongue. With my five senses reawakened, I found myself eager to relive and create new memories.
Smell: On the flight from New York, the foul smell (at least to me) of the airplane food made me feel nauseous and dizzy. Luckily, this smell would soon be replaced by the fragrance of home-cooked meals.
Touch: As I come out of the airport in Bangladesh, dragging my suitcase, my aunties and cousins embrace me with firm hugs. Recognizing their voices, I let go of my suitcases to hug them back. After being away from them for more than ten years, it feels a bit weird to even be in their presence.
Sound: The bustling city of Sylhet reminds me of how different the streets are from America. With absolutely cramped streets with even smaller sidewalks, men hollering everywhere, and an abundance of homeless people pleading for money, I feel right at home in Bangladesh.
Sight: Bangladesh consists of many rural areas, especially in villages, which is where a few of my extended family live. The rural areas in Bangladesh consist of cows and goats roaming with farmers, plucking out and tending to their land. Upon my arrival, I witnessed a Hindu festival. As men hit the drums with colorful powder, they marched while reciting a chant.
Taste: As soon as I land in the JFK airport on my return trip, the one thing I’ve been craving for repeatedly appeared in my mind. Wingstop. To satisfy my craving, not even the next day, I visited Wingstop and put in my order. As soon as I took a bite of the Mango Habanero wings, I felt a burst of epiphany. Sweet but with heat, wings always hit the spot.
With all the memories collected throughout the trip, I hold them close to my heart as they’re my most loved ones. Returning back to New York, I wondered when my next visit to Bangladesh would be. On my next visit, my younger cousins will be much older and I won’t be able to carry them anymore. Because of scholarships, others will have moved abroad. However, I do know that the next time I will, once again, end the trip with tears of sadness of not wanting to leave my precious ones.
