How a Small Nation Can Inspire Us

Conversations about the progress of Bangladesh over the years often touch on the economic comparisons with Singapore or other prosperous Asian countries that serve as the benchmarks. Bangladesh has made remarkable strides and has been on the verge of graduation from the least developed country (LDC) status, although that move is being deferred for now, premised on the belief it is not quite ready for increased competition as a developing country. While the economic indicators for a nation to move forward are of utmost importance, I lay out a few fundamental elements critical for the elevation of a nation’s prestige, measured not in GDP, but in mindset.

Recently, I planned to gallivant across the deep interior of a nearby country to see the beautiful lush mountainous landscape, my friends’ accounts luring me to go. Just for that reason: to explore the countryside for a few relaxing days. That was my draw since it is a stone’s throw from Dhaka.

I had kept my expectations low. I had not intended to size up or compare its economy, as I had known that it was not only small relative to that of Bangladesh, but it had not been doing well from recent misrule and widespread corruption by its leader.

My trips to new places mean more than just relishing the landscape or taking selfies in front of landmarks. The most important thing for me is to talk to the local people and understand their culture and practises. Because to me, it is the best way to feel the pulse.

The bar was low. But, as soon as I landed, a different vibe embraced me. I was pleasantly surprised by the gateway that greeted me: the airport. Okay, it could not compare with many other spectacular airports that I had passed through, but it was very clean and orderly. Immigration was a breeze, with my passport scanned and cleared within a few seconds. Luggage quickly followed. I could see how welcoming it was with comfort and convenience of the weary passengers in mind. A great passenger experience was at the forefront of how it was being run, which prompted me to wonder how a nation can create a positive impression on the visitors at hello. Downstairs at the arrival hall, I queued up for a local SIM. To say the least, this experience was seamless too.

Heshan, the person I had contracted to be my private guide and driver during this trip, showed up on time with alacrity as soon as I stepped out onto the ground transportation area. The highway that led to the city turned out to be a modern 2-lane freeway, unperturbed by any roadside intrusions as we sped along without hitting traffic bottlenecks. I was pinching myself to make sure it was real. The cleanliness of the airport and the surrounding areas was a refreshing reminder that the country makes a conscious effort to be forever etched in a visitor’s mind. Throughout my stay, this strong statement firmly stayed with me. I did not see garbage strewn anywhere with a callous disregard. The air felt breathtakingly cleaner. For instance, the Air Quality Index of the capital city is much lower than that of Dhaka. This has been achieved by national policies and strict adherence to and implementation of emission rules.

Very early, the next day, Heshan showed up as planned, and my trek began in earnest into the lovely hill country. The next few days would be filled with long drives, occasional breaks, an unforgettable and spectacular train journey, and wonderful nature-hugging stays in quaint small towns.

My purpose here is not to express how smitten I was by the beauty of the hill country and how it captivated my senses at every step. That is for another day, but during this journey, several things stood out to me so much that I decided to trade this unforgettable experience for an eye-opener.

The first one to jump out was the traffic system. It is not just the expressway out of the airport that drew me in; it is also the discipline and order that I witnessed in all the streets and highways, even deep into the hill country. Even though I got stuck in a few traffic snarls, they were mostly due to high volumes, not because of random traffic movements in total disregard for traffic laws. On arrival, the city traffic seemed to be flowing well, fluidly driven primarily by the traffic lights, with a minimal traffic police presence. Drivers mostly kept to their lanes except when they consciously changed them with blinkers. There was something delightfully missing: noise pollution in the form of constant honking.

I looked at the city buses and found them to be quite dated. But surprisingly, they looked all very well-maintained, clean and seemingly unscratched by the paws of any animal. I did not see black smoke billowing from the tailpipes. Nor did I see any bus overflowing and leaning with passengers on city streets.

The highways through the hill country were often treacherous and winding, but everyone kept in lanes, resisting the urge to overtake. In one incident, out of a picturesque town, there had been a large landslide where we got stuck for more than an hour. Not for a moment did Heshan try to jump the queue. That applied to all drivers from the other side too. I wonder how worse it could have been, had they broken traffic rules. A complete order helped clear the bottleneck smoothly and in a reasonable time. In another town, while we were driving, one ambulance, with a siren blaring, was rushing from behind, and all the drivers yielded and slowed, or pulled over to the side to make way.

The most important aspect of my trip is one I value the most: people. Most of the locals I interacted with fascinated me by their courteous disposition and honesty. I am not talking about the folks in the tourism industry. I experienced this everywhere with ordinary citizens. I felt very safe. I saw a large number of foreigners visiting the country, implying the tourist-friendly posture of the country.

Among many positives, there are a few things that deserve special mention here.

Dutifulness came to the fore in my interactions with Heshan. On the last day, while wrapping up our tour in the capital, Heshan informed me that his childhood friend was coming to town from overseas on that very day to spend a few days with him. He had earlier committed to four hours with us. Upon hearing this, I asked him to leave early. But he stayed on to fulfil his 4-hour commitment.

One local apparel store in a popular touristy city remained closed for the duration of Friday prayers even though this nation is not a Muslim country. Shoppers were being asked to return after prayers. I came to know later from the manager that none of its salespeople was a Muslim.

My experience belied my preconceived notion that a battered economy automatically meant poorly implemented systems and high disregard for such. But, instead, it brought to light a profound realisation. At least, no sign of that distress was visible.

The daily image of properly functioning systems and law-abiding people elevates the status of a nation. It would be a folly to suggest that this small nation has no issues – and it is by no means a rich country, but I witnessed firsthand how functional the basic systems could be. A nation may face crises; but to grow in stature, its basic systems need to work for the citizens day in day out.

On one of my recent visits to Bangladesh, I was encouraged by the desire for a change. Traffic moved in an orderly fashion, following the guidance of, not the traffic police, but the young and energetic students, armed with boundless energy and aspirations. Pedestrians were being directed to the overbridges, where available, to cross the streets. In many places, trash was being put into allotted bins. Streets littered with trash were being swept clean by the students. Even buses were stopping only at the designated stops.

Can we not continue to emulate the country I visited to project a better image? Economic indicators aside, these elements form the backbone of a proud nation. There are important liveability metrics that need improvement before any nation can make real progress.

The young generation of Bangladesh is tech-savvy and entrepreneurial. Backed by an eager leadership, it can lead the way in making sure our liveability indices tick up, basic systems function, and the collective mindset changes to demand more of the people. I remain confident that we can follow in the footsteps of Sri Lanka, the “teardrop” of its massive neighbour to the north.

By the way, Heshan’s mother invited us to her home and treated us to a delicious home-cooked meal. Her warmth eclipsed her food.