Pakistan - Identity (Crisis)
So I've spent more than 2 months here, and having a Pakistani mother (who spoke Malay as her mother tongue, grew up in a Malay village in Singapore in the 50's, went to a Malay school till her 'A' levels, and married a Malay man, and I've never heard her speak a word of Urdu... yet still believes she's Pakistani by race) I can pretty much PASS for a Pakistani, whether I like it or not.
Several instances have pointed this out to me:
1) I get off the phone, totally cofused because someone just assumed I was Pakistani, even when I spoke totally in ENGLISH, "I'm sorry I don't speak Urdu" and then the other person replies SLOWLY... in URDU.... like as if that would make any difference. And then I try to understand... and fail miserably... and he gives up on me.
I don't think I'm doing very well in branding the company I work for....
2) My new-found-friend-taxi-driver Mr. Isaac says I look like Pattan cos of my fair skin accentuated even more when I'm wearing off-white kurti and scarf. [For those non-Pakistani, the Pattan, otherwise known as Hindkowans, are people from today's North West Frontier Province, and are generally fair, good looking people. For more info:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hindkowans ] And then after researching about the area, I realise why... because I AM half Pakistani/Pattan/Hindkowan... yet still so Singaporean...
I think I'm heading for an identity crisis. Nontheless, I'm still good looking :)
3) I feel I have to make a comment on the recent political situation, i.e. Benazir's bomb blast. And I wrote this a few days ago fresh after the massacre:
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"Rude awakening: Nearly 150 dead after the blasts here in Karachi. Benazir, oh Benazir, what were you expecting??
You've clearly received the threats, yet aimed to have 1 million people rallying for you for 9 friggin hours across town.
Personally I opine that it's completely irresponsible. Bring democracy into Pakistan. And I quote Andrew: she's had two chances! If she never did it then... what makes her think she can do it now? To which I totally agree. Too much trouble for one woman.
So what's different about Benazir? Some age & wisdom? Using 1 million human shields... Striking backdoor deals... Charming the foreign governments with good public speaking skills...
You've got talent Benazir, but I don't think it's enough for Pakistan.
She seriously needs to go. I'd pick Pervez over Benazir anyday...
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And in retrospect, I would never feel comfortable writing about politics in Singapore. From the paranoia of being "blacklisted" by the ISA, under Internal Security Act. Here in Pakistan, the media is more than occasionally biased and emotional in their reporting. Freedom of press and opinion is surprisingly that... FREE, in comparison, Singapore is JUST starting to enjoy it, bit by bit.
Of course here in Pak, we run the risk of being kidnapped or killed depending on your political affiliations and plain ole luck... Some truth to "Pakistan: the most dangerous country in the world" according to a recent Newsweek article.
Whatever the political situation is, however much bad press we get in the news, life goes on.
People still getting married.... Parties still get organised... [With a vengeance! now that Ramzan in over]
Supreme Court still deciding if Pervez was allowed to stand for Presidential Elections after 2 terms as President....
AIESEC conferences still going on next week.... [I still think we should have FACI t-shirts!!!]
Boss still not giving me feedback [to which I say F*CK it, I'll pave my own path to learn what I want, how I want]
An Eid with mixed blessings - part II
So the bus ride was fun.... Later on I was told that most bus drivers are usually high on weed or some other drugs when driving the bus because they have very long hours. Which explains the driver's crazy-ass look
I reached my uncle's house, had some dinner at 11 pm, slept at 1 am.
And who to wake me up for morning prayer... than Mr. Rooster. At 4.48 am, a boisterous cuckle-doo... I tell you that rooster must have been high on weed too cos he never stopped cuckle-dooing till 9 am, and he went off every minute!
Sleep derived, again we make the journey to the hospital, saw my uncle in ICU, stayed for a few hours, met more family members... called my new found-friend-taxi-driver Mr. Isaac and left for home.
Greeted by a familiar face, Aun, who doesn't really stay at the apartment but is a permanent fixture at home. And the rest of housemates return one by one...
So that was Eid.... the most memorable one so far...
An Eid with mixed blessings
This is going to be a random compilation of thoughts from the events that unfolded.
1) WHEN IS EID for God's sake??
And so I'll say to Muslims celebrating Eid-il Fitr, Eid Mubarak! today, tomorrow or whenever the old mullahs see the moon and declares it Eid. Saudi Arabia and some parts of Pakistan celebrated on Friday, Singapore and South East Asia on Saturday, and coming in last was the rest of Pakistan.
After the last iftar, gunshots were heard... I hope no one died from a stray bullet. Watched on mythbusters how a bullet shot at even the slightest angle will still retain its speed because of its trajectory path. But nothing came out in the news so I guess the "gun slinging celebrators" used blanks or shot right at 90 degrees angle into the night sky.
2) FAREWELL to Ben and Frankie
I'm sooo going to miss you boys! and since everyone else except me and Yao were out of Karachi, the house felt extremely empty after they left.
3) Humbled by FATE, Assured by FAITH
So the plan was to go to my uncle's for Eid. He called me up at 11 am, saying that he'd pick me up in an hour. I said Nehi (No) yaar, Uncle.. I am going shopping this afternoon. You can pick me up from the airport at night cos I'd be sending Ben off...
He says, "Acha, Beti... I will pick you up from the airport. Call me again and tell me what time. Allah Hafiz!"
I then proceeded to spring-clean my room and my toilet, ooh, my mum would be so proud! And then gave myself a haircut. Hair turned out OK, wasn't a disaster, even if it WAS no one would know! haha!
And then as I was going out with Ben for last minute shopping, I called my uncle at 3.30pm, and someone else picks up. "Kon hey?" I ask in Urdu, and then got a loong reply in Urdu. I only caught the words, "Accident" , "mobile" , "ambulance" and "tanker".
I say, "Maafkaro, Urdu nehi bol sakhti," Sorry I don't speak Urdu. English please. And then I get pretty much the same answer where I only caught the words accident, mobile, ambulance and tanker.
I thought, oh my uncle must have left his phone somewhere and took someone in an ambulance after this other person got hit by a tanker. "Acha, teekhey... Shukriya" I say. OK, alright. Thank you.
Well, to cut the story short, my uncle was in a bike accident. He hit a tanker or a truck. Head-on collision I heard. Broken wrists, fractured hip, bruised face. I'm just thankful he's alive. Though a nagging question, if at 11 am on Saturday when my uncle called, I'd said yes, come pick me up.... might fate have decided something different?
4) Liaquat National Hospital
30 mins drive away.... Yellow cab taxi costs me 200 rupees. Went alone on Friday night. SMS'd Taha & Yao: "Dude, I'm going to Liaquat hospital. In the cab now. Should reach in 30 mins. If you don't hear from me, please commence emergency procedures..." And then 30 mins later: "Reached"
Thinking about that now...if I did get abducted somehow, I'd pretty much have to save myself. hmmm..
Reached the hospital, lied to my other uncles... said that my "friend" sent me here. Saw my injured uncle. Busy ER, Uncle unsconscious... bloody sheets... bruised head... my cousin describing his injuries. Nothing to the head nor neck nor spine... And that is good news.
Got out of the ER, sat with relatives in the field... fed the swarm of mosquitoes with my blood... Henko language spoken all around.... mixed with tears and sobs in the background.... Sirens of ambulance arriving at the ER gate... A sigh of relief, believing everything will be OK InshaAllah...
5) Not the best Eid celebration, but it's still something.
Sunday, Woke up at 7.30, did Eid prayers and then went back to sleep. Woke up again at 11, prepared some brunch with previous night's Kerahi and naan. Some sweets, chocolates, pistachios, Yao's stories... and our neighbour's bhangra music filtering through. I'm sorry Yao, but I can only catch half of what you told me....
Zamzama was silent like a ghost town...
Then off to the hospital again.
6) The need to laugh and cry
Monday night slept at another uncle's home. Took a bus from Liaquat to Landhi. Standing up in the women's compartment in the front for about half an hour, and then finally jostled for a seat. Sat in the front with the engine beneath my feet. We were stuck in a traffic jam for more than an hour, the bus in between 3 water trucks. One to the front and 2 on the left. So there was no breeze, and a sauna from the engine.
I've never wished more to be a guy than that moment. for 2 reasons:
a) I can simply climb up the bus unto its roof and breathe proper air instead of the smoke from the trucks in front of us.
b) I can go run into some bushes and go pee when I need to. And I needed to SO BAD...
As I try to cool down and relax by thinking happy thoughts, I notice the bus driver.... he had his tongue stuck out, and up touching his moustache... almost like he was sucking the sweat from his moustache. And he had big, glaring eyes and a long beard and his eyes darting to and fro searching, and inching his bus on...
Hence, the need to laugh and cry.
7) Welcome home
Finally a slice of normalcy when the peeps from Islamabad came home.... With worse stories to come!
Swept up by the Whirlwind : Pakistan [1]
Hang on to your seats, this is going to suck you into a vortex of my mind.
So the past 6 weeks I was here, I felt like I've been carried and flung about by a whirlwind. A whirlwind that is the city, the family in Pakistan, the AIESECers, the culture, the social disparity, the headline news that we read every morning, the politics! Oh the politics have been insane here!
But one thing I've promised to blog about is the culture and how inter-gender relations are like. So from what I understand, most typical Pakistan families really discourage daughters from talking to "strange" men outside of the family. Therefore most guys here are deprived of talking to girls nearly all their life until they go to a co-ed University... or get married. And if they marry it's from within the family. [Now marriage in Pakistan is saved for another day, being a WHOLE other compartment of unsolved Pakistani mysteries.]
I go out in the streets and try to ignore the ogling of men that sit in the streets, feeling as if their eyes are trying to burn a hole through me. And then later sit at a table with AIESEC guys and observe them checking out girls. Albeit not very discreetly, so it was quite hilarious! But jokes aside, being on the "stared at" end, makes me feel like an object to be admired or criticised, or RATED? Where's the humanity and respect for each other? Guys rate women, heck women can do the same. So far I've only given a high of 5 out of 10. [Got high expectations, can't help it]
But I contradict myself. Guess from now onwards I shalt not judge, nor admire, just notice if it's worth noticing :)
So that's one part of the experience which is not so great. In work, it's a bit of a contrast. I find that initial contact, the guys tend to be more distant. Back in Singapore, most often it's eye contact, a smile, "Hi, Hello," a handshake, a joke shared, a laugh, and finale of ,"See you around!"
Here, it's eye contact, "Salaam aleykum" a nod, and then turn to talk to my male boss beside me. Or whichever guy is standing nearby. I'm left with my mouth half-open, a question at the tip of my toungue -- silenced.
And the exceptions to this occur when you are related within the family, or if the guy has studied in University or studied overseas where they're more open to plutonic relationships like the rest of the world is. A common conception is that if a girl is close to a particular guy, i.e. seen walking or sitting with each other (in office and outside) people would assume they're having a personal relationship.
To the man in the street, I could pass for a Pakistani. A conservative, honourable lady dressed in a hijab... and then she's seen walking out from the apartment building with 5 boys ahead of her. I suppose the conclusion wouldn't be flattering.
In retrospect,
I may the one being stereotypical. Perhaps not all would think that way. Perhaps it's just all in my head. Yet why are they still staring?
Farewell to the girls
In a week, had to say goodbye to wonderful friends already! Sukriye from Turkey who's my roommate, left last week, while Wangari, our mummy in the house has also left yesterday, back home to Kenya.
I'm going to miss you two! And more will leave soon, Frankie and Ben... it's going to get really lonely in the mansion... :(
Bowling Farewell for Wangari
Outdoor dining in the car at Hot n Spicy. I had cheddar cpicy chicken wings. ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS!
Wangari, we'll miss you! But as usual, it's not goodbye. We'll see each other soon enough.
Ramazan in Pakistan
Well, Eid is around the corner for Muslims around the world and celebrating it away from family for the first time is tough. Talked to my mum yesterday and she described all the hari raya (Eid) cookies she's baked and little did she realise my mouth watering with every word she uttered :(
So the
fasting month of Ramadhan here is really different. For one, people feast more than back in Singapore, with a double meal. The break of fast known as "iftar" is with fried samosa's, pakora's, potatoes, and sweet drinks. And an hour after that, DINNER with briyani or tikka or whatever big meal that Pakistanis fancy. Which really is tooo much coming from South East Asia where iftar = dinner.
Secondly, work days are halved!, Start work at 8 am and ends at 2 pm! That was on of the easiest things to get used to, coming back, take an afternoon snooze... wake up just in time for iftar....
In the apartment we have the MC mansion, where MC members stay on the upper floor and interns on the lower floors. And iftar is always a happening affair. All 14 of us will gather on the open air roof, with a wonderful view of sunset and the cityscape, chowing down on food and enjoying great company! Especially now where it's cooler as winter is coming. Now if only my mum would courier those cookies, life would be perfect!
And in the late evenings, shisha on the roof with coffee or tea. I tried shisha once last night, it was good while it lasted, but the aftermath was NOT pleasant. Hence, I've sworn off shisha forever.
Then in the mornings those fasting in the mansion take turns preparing the morning meal sehri, eggs being the easiest and the only thing that the the boys could cook. Except Sohaib (MCVPICX/aspiring chef) who can cook eggs AND potatoes. I always get stressed out when it's my turn, cos I'm a heavy sleeper and have on occassion slept through 3 alarms blaring away. To each his own challenges I suppose.
Ramazan shopping: Fun! Crowded, just like shopping in Geylang with the bright lights in the streets, people up and about till 2 am. Sometimes right upto sehri I hear. And bargaining is fun, although being foreigner we get ripped off quite often. To get better bargains, I learnt the Urdu words for 1 to 10, and 20, 30 to 100, 100, 200, 300 etc Rupees. Then I get ripped off in Urdu.
So now Ramadhan is coming to an end, Eid will come, and I will feast :)
