How to draw a crowd in Dhaka in 2.5 seconds or less

Buying sweets was Ben's idea. Earlier in the day he had passed several vendors selling assorted candies by the side of the road, but he didn't have any small change at the time so his curiosity went unsatisfied. But when we found ourselves with nothing better to do on Thursday afternoon, he suggested that we go back to Bonani and do some reconnaisance.

Most of the vendors had cleared out by the time we arrived, but one tenacious seller remained, calling out to passers-by and waving off the flies that flitted and buzzed around his wares.

"Eigulo ki?" I said to him - "what are these?"

He grinned. "Sweets."

"What are their names?"

I pointed and he recited.

"Wait, I want to write these down. One minute." I fished my little notebook out of my bag. "Will you say them again?"

He dictated once more.

"Bagami." He pointed to a little pile of what looked like (and turned out to be) peanut brittle. In my notebook, with my best Bangla handwriting, I wrote "ba ga mi." The vendor regarded me with something between awe and glee.

He pointed to a mound of rock candy.

"Tal mishti."

I wrote this, too, and looked up when I'd finished to find that at least five or six men who'd been walking by had stopped to watch and were now craning their necks toward my notebook.

"And that?" I pointed to a chunk of candied fruit.

"Moroba."

I scrawled. The crowd grew.

"And this here?"

"Shondesh."

Completely self-conscious now, I closed my notebook and looked up to find no fewer than a dozen men gathered around us.

"Thanks," I said. "How much for one of each?"

"Thirty taka."

"I'll give you twenty," I said, and the bystanders chuckled. The vendor gave a sideways head-nod and a grin, and we waved and went on our way, munching, as the crowd dispersed behind us.