Jennifer Lopez used to take the No.6 green line from Bronx (not Brooklyn, as Dean pointed out) to get to work and back home. I've been taking the No.6 bus home ever since USAID issued security alert a month or two ago asking their staff not to use CNG taxis like the one shown in the pic (source: Daily Star). Since these taxis have no doors, on crowded intersections, two or three people forcibly enter from both sides, rob the person, and then rub some irritant ointment or chilly powder on the eye before dropping them off on the street. Just last night, one of my acquaintances was a victim to similar incident. He was temporarily blind, and had to call office to pick him up.I actually wanted to write about something symmetrically opposite. Last night, after Iftar with Farhana and the gang, I walked over to Gulshan-1 intersection to catch the No.6 bus. I was talking on the phone, and beside me were a bunch of teenagers who were laughing among themselves and were somewhat loud. They were trying to board a bus to go to Mohakhali, the next stop. The bus conductor didn't want to take them because it was such a short distance. I was still on the phone, and two more buses refused, one of them climbed inside one and then came down when there was no room for others. They were now somewhat agitated and yelled at one of the bus conductors, and couple of people gathered around. I didn't realize what the problem was until I finished the conversation, put down my phone, looked at them, and realized that all seven of them were blind. The two women were wearing bangles and jewelry and none of them carried any walking stick, white or otherwise. They relied on just touch and voice to assess their position.
My bus came, but I couldn't leave without seeing the end of it. Finally, one of the haulers agreed to take them, and I stood by as they walked the treacherous street past a vendor on the street with a dangerously exposed sugar cane crusher, and several potholes, while remaining upbeat and chatting among themselves, climbed into the car, and then went toward their destination. I caught the next bus, got the last seat in the back, closed my eyes for a few seconds, and imagined how I'd get home from this bus if someone rubbed something in my eye and made me one of them.
Bangladesh must be one of the worst countries for the visually impaired (if not the worst, thanks to the cambodian landmines and civil war in African nations). The sidewalks/footpaths are always crowded with tobacco stalls. Fragments of rocks and potholes abound. The cars, or rickshaws have minimal regard for pedestrians, telephone and television cables hang low enough to strangle the absent-minded people like me.
However, the positive and life affirming aspect of last night's experience was that these boys and girls were fully integrated into the society. They receive the same lousy service, the same high rate for short distances.
Talk about extreme non-discrimination.
