Usually, I get to know a place by walking through it. This trip has challenged that way of knowing. There have been exceptions: a soggy slog to a pond where vegetables grow from the bank; the stroll to a trafficking survivor’s home, which led past a lake fringed by palm trees. But mostly I’ve seen Bangladesh from the backseat of a vehicle.

Until today. At Hazarikhil I hiked to a tribal village, an ecotourism ropes walk and a camping site. On the way I heard stories of pythons captured, and of leeches that stick to your skin and must be pulled off with great force. At one point I looked down and saw one on my sandal. Luckily, someone pulled it off before it could suck my blood.

Let’s just say this is not your typical walk in the suburbs of northern Virginia. But how good today to stretch my legs, trudge up hills and down. It gave me a feel for the place that I haven’t gotten before, a weariness of limb and a wariness of step and an appreciation for … the air-conditioned back seat.