Arriving at the airport in Dhaka was so intense. The men at customs interrogated me: how long will you be here, what are you doing here, why have you been to so many countries, why do you have so little luggage? There aren’t a ton of tourists visiting Dhaka, and my usual “only two weeks” excuse meant I got exactly 15 days on my visa instead of the usual 30. The man selling visas sensed my frustration at paying a $7 tax on top of a $50 visa fee and handed me a $1 coin from the USA. “I have no idea what this is. Is this your money? Take it.”
I exited the airport by foot. Since my Canon 6D had drowned in Chiangmai, I only carried the tiny Ricoh GR. My first photo was of family members of people arriving clinging to a fence outside the airport. But there were so many police around, seemingly everywhere, that I was afraid to get close. The photo didn’t work, but this second one of a man also exiting the airport in front of me did.