Slowly adjusting

I think I am getting slightly adjusted to the culture here. By that I don't mean that I love it and am ready to move here, but that the sights, sounds, and smells aren't a surprise or utterly shocking to me. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it was just too much for me to take in and process. Even after a couple days I would be riding in a rickshaw or baby taxi and just be in awe staring around me at how different everything is.
Tuesday I felt comfortable enough in my very limited Bangla and in my innate expert male sense of direction to venture out of the house, catch a rickshaw to another part of town, find a coffee shop to write and/or chat with people.
The area of town I was going is called "Golshan" so I can say that to any rickshaw wallah and he will know where to take me. Strangely when I flagged a rickshaw wallah he started talking with me in English, a nice surprise in my first solo journey into Dhaka. We chatted with his limited English until the end of the trip 15 minutes later. He said that Movenpicks (the coffee shop) was to the right, but after walking for 5 minutes I knew I'd gone the wrong way so I found my bearings and headed back the other way where I found Movenpicks. Once at the shop through a mixture of pointing and limited English I ordered some Cappuccino ice cream. I wrote in my travel journal for a little over an hour hoping someone would come in I could talk to, but the only other guests was a group of 8 Muslim women who I thought it best not to engage in conversation.
Upon leaving the shop I walked up to a group of rickshaw wallahs all eager to give the foreigner a ride and overcharge him. I said my address to the first one who looked at me funny, but the one next to him smiled and said "Yes boss, Baridarah!" I went with the one who seemed to know where I needed to go. I knew which turns he needed to make and knew I could tell him in Bangla "left, right, straight, stop" if I needed to.
While riding back to the house I realized that I was becoming acclimated to the sights around me. It was normal that there aren't really any lanes and that pedestrians, buses, rickshaws, baby taxis, cars and SUVs all share the same crowded road and that they won't (usually) collide despite the inches they come from each other at varying speeds and directions. It was normal for me to see a building project underway supplied by women carrying loads of sand or bricks on their head. I wasn't surprised or intimidated by the armed soldiers standing outside various buildings. It was odd but normal for their to be men off the side of the road relieving themselves as everyone passes by. It was normal to not really know what that smell in the air is, other than the faint smell of burning trash or exhaust from the many vehicles buzzing around. It was normal at intersections for me to be approached by beggars who stand there with their hand outstretched wanting and needing food or money. I've realized as a foreigner it is normal to be stared at, or receive the occasional "How are you" from people eager to practice their English.
This is my feeble attempt to help you see what I'm seeing. How to handle certain of these things I'm still figuring out.
Pray that the Father will show me my next step undeniably. Pray that while I am here, despite the many barriers, He will show me how to love this people like he loves them.