Since arriving in Timor, I’ve been making lots of comparisons between my current experience and my time in Bangladesh. I can’t help it. I just keep seeing things that are either very similar or totally different, or even just Timorese things that make me think of Bangladeshi things.
One morning in Dili, I got up to use the bathroom. It was dawn. All was quiet, except for a chorus of roosters crowing across the city – some right outside my window; some far off in the distance - each one singing the same song, but with its own individual voice and intonation.
“Sounds like the call to prayer in Bangladesh,” I thought.
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