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The next morning the roads to the airport were thick with morning mist; this offered an amazing opportunity to take photos of farmers walking through this eerie, dreamy landscape.

One of the more interesting things I saw was a slew of young boys, squatting next to large plastic tubs of live fish, smacking the surface of the water with their hands… little human aerators…

Rising early, we headed into the heart of Bogra City. The central Railway Bazar was an amazing opportunity to capture all the busy activity of a market, with the added excitement of avoiding getting hit by the train that WENT THROUGH the market. The narrow stalls haphazardly put together with sheets of metal and hanging tarps allowed amazing streams of light to filter through.

After a much-needed sleep-in, day 4 started at the Shaheb Bazar Kacha market.  Part slaughter house, part fish market and part vegetable market.  It was so picturesque that I barely noticed that my feet were soaked in blood and dirty, stagnant fish water. 

After two very intense days in the crowded and polluted streets of Dhaka, it was time to jump on a flight to Rajshahi in the West, close to the Indian border.

I arose from my deep slumber to the gentle sounds of the Muezzin’s call to prayer, an alarm clock since the days of The Prophet Mohammed. After a quick chai (aka: Rocket Fuel), we arrived at Gabtoli, a small local port where dozens of barges, filled to the brim with jet-black chunks of coal, were docked. An army of men and women streamed in an endless conga line, before us.   

“You know they burn people alive there, right?” “They are desperately poor and would do ANYTHING to get your money.” “They’ll lock you into their tuk-tuk, splash gasoline on you and if you don’t pay them, they will set you alight!”

A recent question and answer I did with Mads Monsen from Magazine d’Art De Saigon.