Return to the Western World
In the plane a few hours away from Toronto. I can't wait. I have had a fantastic trip and had a great time with family, both with old relatives and forging new relationships but I can't wait to be home. If there is anything this trip has taught me, it is that I am a true north americaner. I would find it difficult to live anywhere else, although I love experiencing different cultures and visiting different parts of the world. Azhar has written a great ode to Pakistan below so in my last post I'll give you this.
Things I'm not going to miss:
1....the scarcity of Toilet Paper. In a land where there is such a need for toilet paper, why is there never any in the bathroom? There's always some in the kitchens as it seems the concept of kitchen roll or paper towels has not yet been invented, but never any in the bathroom where it is so desperately needed. And this is based on my experiences in bathrooms in peoples homes, five star restaurants, service stations, rest stops etc. I think I brought about 500 wipes to Pakistan and used almost all of them on my 12 day trip.
2...Layering. I live in Canada, where the weather can get as cold as -30c and I have never layered more than 3 layers: base layer, tshirt, sweater, and over that a coat. If I'm skiing or going to be outdoors, I may swap out some of those layers for a warmer version but it's never more than that. In Pakistan, in the winter, as the houses are cold, and gas is sporadic, I felt like the Michelin man. It's only when I reached Germany on the return trip that I realized how tiny my kid is. This entire trip, his wardrobe consisted of leggings and a slim t, which was layered over with a pair of slim fitting old pajamas. Then at least 2 more shirts on top, a sweater and sometimes a jacket. The poor guys feet Barely fit into his shoes as he had a minimum of 2 pairs of socks on at any time. Going back to Canada and putting him in a single sleeper to sleep is going to feel weird.
3....the showers. Oh...i can't wait to shower in a north American shower! The water pressure, the way hot water just comes on a few seconds after you turn on the tap. The way you can stand in the shower for half an hour with no issues and change in the warm bathroom or hang out in a towel while leisurely selecting your clothes for the day. The way you can take a shower at any time of the day. The fact that I don't even own a Balti. Cannot wait!
On that note, here are the things I will miss:
1...the food. I'm going to miss waking up and being asked if I want fresh squeezed juice or a hot tea first thing and what I want for breakfast. When asked what they have, being told " whatever you want".
2... The lifestyle. Waking up and having nothing to do other than perform basic personal hygiene.
By the way, if anyone else is going to Pakistan in the nest bit, let me know. I have a huge stash of meds that I need to traffic somehow before expiry. Everything to do with nausea, upset stomach, heartburn, indigestion, diaharea, vomiting, gas and bloating. I have ginger chews, I have gravol, pesto bismol, Imodium, gas-x, tums, you name it I have it.
Showing posts with label Urdu. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Urdu. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
First world perceptions of the fourth world
First world perceptions of the fourth world
We have arrived. From the modern motorway, which really looks kind of like the 401, we turned out to this tooty pooty dirt road where we shared road space with cows, bicycles, Tangas, wagons and all manner of shit. No really, shit. That's not a euphemism, there really was shit everywhere.
Along the side of the road we saw various manners of dhabas, mud huts, Charpais and other forms of housing, all covered with what my son excitedly calls "chocolate cupcakes". These chocolate cupcakes, for those who don't know, are made from cow dung (Atleast I hope it's cow dung but who knows) that are used as a fuel source for cooking. They are shared into patties and put on the houses to dry out in the sun, and are the single greatest contributor to the trademark gaon scent that permeates through the air.
We finally reach the gaon and go into Aymens family home, which is a haveli style ( open courtyard with rooms off the courtyard, and then a raised roof you can walk on and see below into the home). It's bustling, there is a tent going up in the middle for the valima, people everywhere, a full service kitchen dispatching chai trays with nibbles, to various parts of the house, a busy tandoor making dozens and dozens of fresh tandoori naans, huge daygs in which food is being prepared for the nights events. We sit down for a cup of chai which is not bad but tastes, well, different. It's got milkpak in it so I'm wondering what this new flavour is. Aymen is with me and takes a sip, first words out of her mouth, it tastes like goober. What is goober? Well, it's what those aforementioned chocolate cupcakes are made of. I decided at that moment I was not drinking chai the rest of the trip.
We decided to go for a walk in the village. This was actually a lot of fun. The road in the village is filled with village children, cows, goats and chickens (basically, live dinner). Cayden had a ball, feeding the goats, running after chickens. Within ten minutes he looked exactly like the rest of the gaon children. You couldn't tell his clothes were from Zara or that he was North American. With dirt on his face, shit on his shoes, snot running down his face due to all the dirt/allergies, he looked like he fit in just fine. Yay for me!
For those of you following the blog for the potty humor and shit stories. There will be a lot of that in this post. First, the kids were treated to the sight of a large cow shitting in front of them. Or in the words of Saifaan, "Aisha aunty, that cow did potty In front of everybody!". Oh yes he did. Maneuvering a toddler out of big piles of shit while trying to avoid carrying him as his shoes and clothes are already covered in big piles of shit and who knows what else was not fun. Probably not a good idea to wear a light colored outfit that you actually like.
Cayden decided that if there was a pile of shit in the road, he was going to step in it. I don't get it, I guess it's soft and squishy? All I can say is, if there was a single piece of shit on the road, my son stepped in it. Guess he takes after his dad after all.
We ended our walk in the kaith, outside of the village walls with big open fields of saag and other crops and beautiful picturesque landscapes. Don't really have anything negative to say here, it as beautiful, the sun was setting and we were all able to indulge our filmi alter egos and take beautiful shots in fields of flowers.
My funniest experience in the gaon was talking to Aymens chacha, who lives in the US and hasn't been to Pakistan in 37 years. When I asked him if the gaon was as he remembered, he said "this is the filthiest place on earth. It's just filthy. I left here 37 years ago and it has gotten worse". When people asked us what we thought of the gaon, and we told them it was very different, he told us to stop being diplomatic. Lol.
The next morning, my stomach is feeling a little queasy. I share this with Omar who smiles and pulls out his camera to share pictures of the food preparation process. Basically all the meat was skinned and feathered on site, with carcasses laid on sheets on the floor. Then, meat was butchered and butchered pieces were tossed into a Charpai that is lined with a bed sheet where it sits in the sun till the butchering Is done. No one is wearing gloves, and apron and judging from the pics, I'm not sure if they are adhering to hand washing protocol. Oh my lord. Where is Azhar and his bootleg amoxicillin when I need it? I'm also wishing I brought my own sheets as I'm not sure of the origin of the sheets on the bed I slept on last night. Luckily it wasn't a Charpai.
Omar was smart enough to shower before heading to the village. I on the other hand, am indebted to flush able wipes and anti perspirant. The "shower" consists of a communal stone walled area that comes up to mid chest, located in the front entrance to the haveli. I am not joking. Judging from the number of shirtless men wrapped in towels I see walking around in the early morning it seemed to be very popular. I tried to convince Omar but he wasn't having it. I was later told there are indoor shower facilities for women however at this point I figured I would just shower when I returned to civilization! Our bathroom did not have a lock on the door and so taking a shower just sounded like it would be a stressful experience.
We ran out of toilet paper shortly before leaving, which to my mind signified our time in the village had come to an end.
All in all, a different experience, fun in its own way bit can I say, I am very glad we were only there for 26 hours :)
We have arrived. From the modern motorway, which really looks kind of like the 401, we turned out to this tooty pooty dirt road where we shared road space with cows, bicycles, Tangas, wagons and all manner of shit. No really, shit. That's not a euphemism, there really was shit everywhere.
Along the side of the road we saw various manners of dhabas, mud huts, Charpais and other forms of housing, all covered with what my son excitedly calls "chocolate cupcakes". These chocolate cupcakes, for those who don't know, are made from cow dung (Atleast I hope it's cow dung but who knows) that are used as a fuel source for cooking. They are shared into patties and put on the houses to dry out in the sun, and are the single greatest contributor to the trademark gaon scent that permeates through the air.
We finally reach the gaon and go into Aymens family home, which is a haveli style ( open courtyard with rooms off the courtyard, and then a raised roof you can walk on and see below into the home). It's bustling, there is a tent going up in the middle for the valima, people everywhere, a full service kitchen dispatching chai trays with nibbles, to various parts of the house, a busy tandoor making dozens and dozens of fresh tandoori naans, huge daygs in which food is being prepared for the nights events. We sit down for a cup of chai which is not bad but tastes, well, different. It's got milkpak in it so I'm wondering what this new flavour is. Aymen is with me and takes a sip, first words out of her mouth, it tastes like goober. What is goober? Well, it's what those aforementioned chocolate cupcakes are made of. I decided at that moment I was not drinking chai the rest of the trip.
We decided to go for a walk in the village. This was actually a lot of fun. The road in the village is filled with village children, cows, goats and chickens (basically, live dinner). Cayden had a ball, feeding the goats, running after chickens. Within ten minutes he looked exactly like the rest of the gaon children. You couldn't tell his clothes were from Zara or that he was North American. With dirt on his face, shit on his shoes, snot running down his face due to all the dirt/allergies, he looked like he fit in just fine. Yay for me!
For those of you following the blog for the potty humor and shit stories. There will be a lot of that in this post. First, the kids were treated to the sight of a large cow shitting in front of them. Or in the words of Saifaan, "Aisha aunty, that cow did potty In front of everybody!". Oh yes he did. Maneuvering a toddler out of big piles of shit while trying to avoid carrying him as his shoes and clothes are already covered in big piles of shit and who knows what else was not fun. Probably not a good idea to wear a light colored outfit that you actually like.
Cayden decided that if there was a pile of shit in the road, he was going to step in it. I don't get it, I guess it's soft and squishy? All I can say is, if there was a single piece of shit on the road, my son stepped in it. Guess he takes after his dad after all.
We ended our walk in the kaith, outside of the village walls with big open fields of saag and other crops and beautiful picturesque landscapes. Don't really have anything negative to say here, it as beautiful, the sun was setting and we were all able to indulge our filmi alter egos and take beautiful shots in fields of flowers.
My funniest experience in the gaon was talking to Aymens chacha, who lives in the US and hasn't been to Pakistan in 37 years. When I asked him if the gaon was as he remembered, he said "this is the filthiest place on earth. It's just filthy. I left here 37 years ago and it has gotten worse". When people asked us what we thought of the gaon, and we told them it was very different, he told us to stop being diplomatic. Lol.
The next morning, my stomach is feeling a little queasy. I share this with Omar who smiles and pulls out his camera to share pictures of the food preparation process. Basically all the meat was skinned and feathered on site, with carcasses laid on sheets on the floor. Then, meat was butchered and butchered pieces were tossed into a Charpai that is lined with a bed sheet where it sits in the sun till the butchering Is done. No one is wearing gloves, and apron and judging from the pics, I'm not sure if they are adhering to hand washing protocol. Oh my lord. Where is Azhar and his bootleg amoxicillin when I need it? I'm also wishing I brought my own sheets as I'm not sure of the origin of the sheets on the bed I slept on last night. Luckily it wasn't a Charpai.
Omar was smart enough to shower before heading to the village. I on the other hand, am indebted to flush able wipes and anti perspirant. The "shower" consists of a communal stone walled area that comes up to mid chest, located in the front entrance to the haveli. I am not joking. Judging from the number of shirtless men wrapped in towels I see walking around in the early morning it seemed to be very popular. I tried to convince Omar but he wasn't having it. I was later told there are indoor shower facilities for women however at this point I figured I would just shower when I returned to civilization! Our bathroom did not have a lock on the door and so taking a shower just sounded like it would be a stressful experience.
We ran out of toilet paper shortly before leaving, which to my mind signified our time in the village had come to an end.
All in all, a different experience, fun in its own way bit can I say, I am very glad we were only there for 26 hours :)
From Pindi... to the Pind!
From Pindi...to the Pind!
This blog post is long overdue. I promised Azhar I would keep his blog after he returned to the modern world, and I've drafted this blog post in my head many times but something or the other has come up since he's left, and I haven't had time to update the blog. By "something" I mean a 35 pound iPad Nazi who requires constant attention, along with an iPad in hand, but I digress ( what did parents do before iPads were invented?)
So, cayden has been missing his nana and dad like crazy. He doesn't understand why they left without him, and in turn has stick to Omar and I like white on rice since last Friday. Luckily he has a new mumani to divert his attention, who he adores (Jaane Mani!) which has been a great help.
This blog has so far focused on life in "modern day" Pakistan, namely, big town life ie the "shehars" of Lahore and Pindi. But now, we move from the shehars to the Pind! Pindi is the Pind, you say? Well, I have now been to a real life Pakistani gaon (village) and I can assure you, Pindi is a bustling metropolis compared to the gaon.
We are heading to Omar's father in laws gaon for a family valima for 2 days. Ok, about 28 hours. Yes, I calculated. My first question upon hearing that I was going to experience Pakistani rural life: will there be wifi? ( first world problems, I know). Upon being told that there was some sort of network connection but not wifi ( which I assume means one dial up connection in the entire village), I proceeded to ask less important questions like, is there running water and questions on sanitary conditions.
If you read Azhars post on packing for Pakistan, let me assure you packing for the gaon takes it to the next level! Essentially I had to plan outfits for 2 functions. Our footwear of choice: khussas ( can be disposable) and crocs ( can be hosed down and/ or boiled to sanitize, as required!). Pants too long and need heels? No problem! Just pull them up almost to Urkel level heights, and rock on. Caydens clothing consisted of frankly, anything that could be steam washed upon our return. Ensured that there were tons of stomach meds, diapers, diaper rash cream, milk pack, bottled water and of course, toilet paper packed
Those of you who know me well know I am not a minimalist. Suffice it to say I had 3 huge bags packed for the Pind because frankly I don't know what to expect. Those who have warned me that it may not be a pleasant experience.
Wish me luck!
This blog post is long overdue. I promised Azhar I would keep his blog after he returned to the modern world, and I've drafted this blog post in my head many times but something or the other has come up since he's left, and I haven't had time to update the blog. By "something" I mean a 35 pound iPad Nazi who requires constant attention, along with an iPad in hand, but I digress ( what did parents do before iPads were invented?)
So, cayden has been missing his nana and dad like crazy. He doesn't understand why they left without him, and in turn has stick to Omar and I like white on rice since last Friday. Luckily he has a new mumani to divert his attention, who he adores (Jaane Mani!) which has been a great help.
This blog has so far focused on life in "modern day" Pakistan, namely, big town life ie the "shehars" of Lahore and Pindi. But now, we move from the shehars to the Pind! Pindi is the Pind, you say? Well, I have now been to a real life Pakistani gaon (village) and I can assure you, Pindi is a bustling metropolis compared to the gaon.
We are heading to Omar's father in laws gaon for a family valima for 2 days. Ok, about 28 hours. Yes, I calculated. My first question upon hearing that I was going to experience Pakistani rural life: will there be wifi? ( first world problems, I know). Upon being told that there was some sort of network connection but not wifi ( which I assume means one dial up connection in the entire village), I proceeded to ask less important questions like, is there running water and questions on sanitary conditions.
If you read Azhars post on packing for Pakistan, let me assure you packing for the gaon takes it to the next level! Essentially I had to plan outfits for 2 functions. Our footwear of choice: khussas ( can be disposable) and crocs ( can be hosed down and/ or boiled to sanitize, as required!). Pants too long and need heels? No problem! Just pull them up almost to Urkel level heights, and rock on. Caydens clothing consisted of frankly, anything that could be steam washed upon our return. Ensured that there were tons of stomach meds, diapers, diaper rash cream, milk pack, bottled water and of course, toilet paper packed
Those of you who know me well know I am not a minimalist. Suffice it to say I had 3 huge bags packed for the Pind because frankly I don't know what to expect. Those who have warned me that it may not be a pleasant experience.
Wish me luck!
Friday, January 18, 2013
Bye bye Pakistan! Al Vidah!
Had a really great last day in Pakistan. The original 5 Canadian contingent spent the day together in Islamabad. Just Mubashar, Omar, Aisha, Azhar, and Cayden. We sat 4000 ft high, drinking tea at Monal restaurant at the top of the mountains, toasting to a great family holiday and to Omar's Nikkah. Inshallah may he and Aymen have a bright and successful future.
So I leave Pakistan with a bit of sadness, a lot of insight into myself and with these thoughts and tips.
1. My base is Lahore. No matter where my family has moved around from country to country, My identity is from my mom. I'm Lahori through and through. Why, you ask? I'm fat, Lahori. I'm gora fair, Lahori. I'm very loud, Lahori. I love my food, Lahori. I am funny, Lahori. I swear, Lahori. i tell dirty jokes, Lahori. I have a temper, Lahori. I didn't feel unsafe at all because if anyone messed around, I just would given them one tight slap. Lahori. I must have been born again once I'd seen it. I didn't think I would miss it so much. Lahore hi Lahore hain.
2. Etiquette. Pakistani's eat formally with a spoon and fork. Sometimes it's nice to eat roti with your hands but it's also nice to be a gentleman. Banda ban! I'm also never going to complain about a public washroom in North America.
3. Pakistanis do not drink black tea with milk in the evenings. At least not in the areas I visited. Chai is fine in mornings or even at tea time, but after dinner stick to kava, made with green tea and spices. I got the recipe, so if you thought my tea was good before...watch out! Got an awesome Kashmiri Tea recipe. Going to make it every morning. Masala chai, as good as mine is, is for tourists.
4. Keep receipts for everything. People hand you receipts for all kinds of things. Bags, parking whatever. Always hold on to them as you have to show them on the way out. It doesn't make any sense. Pay 20 rupees to park, got a receipt, go in, thank you. When I'm leaving why do I have to show the damn receipt again? How do you think I got passed the heavily armed guards to get in here in the first place. This used to drive Omar crazy!!
5. It's looks crazy, but driving in Pakistan has its own fantastic flow. Accidents are rare. Just focus on your own car, and never ever go backwards, no matter what. I drove once in Pakistan to prove my manhood to myself. But I'm also adult enough to never have to prove it again. I'd much rather have a driver, and sit in the back with a newspaper and Kashmiri tea. Also, donkeys are a very suitable and efficient mode of transportation. As long as you don't mind the smell.
6. Watch where you park. They use forklifts to tow you car. Nothing like seeing your rental car 20 feet in the air. Also why bother with a road block when a shipping container full of acid will do the same job at a fraction of the price. That'll stop traffic.
7. I have always loved and enjoyed my food, but I had so much great stuff on this trip. Always order the Malai chicken tikka boti, and never order the zafrani badami leg of anything. The longer the name,the stupider the dish. Also, anything makhani is great, especially the daal. Malai is awesome, but it needs a little sprinkle of sugar to go on top of it. The Paratha is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. The croissant can kiss my ass ( though i love you too). When I die, forget the 72 virgins, I want 72 Parathay. Now if these virgins could ALSO make me Parathay, I'm willing to compromise.
7b. Some guy just said I look like Adnan Sami before he got skinny. Shit I have gained so much weight. I better crawl back into a gym.
8. Family is family and we are all connected. I felt so much love from Omar's in laws that not for one second did I think that I was with my own inlaws' inlaws. Everyone is just family. I am taking Ruby aunty with me to Toronto. We spent one day without Aymen, and we really really felt the loss of her prescence, especially Cayden. But not just that. My cousin Aftab, who I rarely see, treated me better than a brother, and just kept on giving and giving. Even after I left for Pindi, he called me everyday to tell me he missed me. I love you Affie! In Rabwah, I thought some random aunty had come to visit me. It turns out she was my moms first cousin, and even in the short time we spent together, this lady who I never knew even existed, gave me so much love, and we were able to reminisce. At Bahishti Makbarah, I realized that many of us are from one big home in India. The Khulufah, Chaudhry sb, Dr. Salam, along with so many relatives of yours and mine lie in peace together. Now it's doesn't make me want to donate everything to Wasiyat, but I'm glad someone did.
8b. I miss my grandparents. All four of them. I also thank them for emigrating and suffering many hardships so I could grow up and write this stupid-ass blog!
9. Knowing Urdu is SO SO important for the next generation. A big reason my experiences have been so good is because I wasn't an idiot trying to speak English everywhere. Punjabi is not commonly used and Urdu is king. I'm 37, had never been to Pakistan, and still learned the language, so I know it's possible. Moreover, my parents speak perfect Canadian English, so Urdu was never imposed on us. I learned Urdu from the Khans, ShahRukh, Salman and Aamir, from Mr. Bachchan, from Mohammadi Rafi and Lataji, from Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Jagjit Singh. So if someone has a problem with my son listening to Rahat or watching Hindi films, come talk to me.
10. Do not fuck with the Pakistanis! This country should absolutely not under any circumstances exist. It is a mess. Sporadic electricity at best. Not enough gas to heat your home. Danger everywhere. Absolute corruption from top to bottom. Income is close to nonexistent. Political instability ever day. Dictatorships, military rule, assassinations. Complete lawlessness. But not only does this country continue to somehow work, and grow and progress, it will stand toe to toe with anyone. The Americans bombed the shit out of Afghanistan to find OBL, but when he turned up in Abbotabad (beautiful town I hear btw), they politely captured him, said sorry sorry and bye bye. India stands strong with a billion people, and missiles pointed, and Pakistan says mess with us and Mumbai becomes Boombai. We'll make a mcbc out of Delhi. I love India I think like a mother, but respect Pakistan like a father. How did they get their hands on a nuclear weapon? These people are crazy. In Lahore they will just slap you until you bleed, in Karachi they will hold a pistol to your eye and make you piss yourself. In Peshawar they actually will bend you over, pull down your shalwar, call you Salma, and make you their bitch!
That's it for me and Pakistan! Such a great holiday. Thanks for reading. Aisha's turn.
So I leave Pakistan with a bit of sadness, a lot of insight into myself and with these thoughts and tips.
1. My base is Lahore. No matter where my family has moved around from country to country, My identity is from my mom. I'm Lahori through and through. Why, you ask? I'm fat, Lahori. I'm gora fair, Lahori. I'm very loud, Lahori. I love my food, Lahori. I am funny, Lahori. I swear, Lahori. i tell dirty jokes, Lahori. I have a temper, Lahori. I didn't feel unsafe at all because if anyone messed around, I just would given them one tight slap. Lahori. I must have been born again once I'd seen it. I didn't think I would miss it so much. Lahore hi Lahore hain.
2. Etiquette. Pakistani's eat formally with a spoon and fork. Sometimes it's nice to eat roti with your hands but it's also nice to be a gentleman. Banda ban! I'm also never going to complain about a public washroom in North America.
3. Pakistanis do not drink black tea with milk in the evenings. At least not in the areas I visited. Chai is fine in mornings or even at tea time, but after dinner stick to kava, made with green tea and spices. I got the recipe, so if you thought my tea was good before...watch out! Got an awesome Kashmiri Tea recipe. Going to make it every morning. Masala chai, as good as mine is, is for tourists.
4. Keep receipts for everything. People hand you receipts for all kinds of things. Bags, parking whatever. Always hold on to them as you have to show them on the way out. It doesn't make any sense. Pay 20 rupees to park, got a receipt, go in, thank you. When I'm leaving why do I have to show the damn receipt again? How do you think I got passed the heavily armed guards to get in here in the first place. This used to drive Omar crazy!!
5. It's looks crazy, but driving in Pakistan has its own fantastic flow. Accidents are rare. Just focus on your own car, and never ever go backwards, no matter what. I drove once in Pakistan to prove my manhood to myself. But I'm also adult enough to never have to prove it again. I'd much rather have a driver, and sit in the back with a newspaper and Kashmiri tea. Also, donkeys are a very suitable and efficient mode of transportation. As long as you don't mind the smell.
6. Watch where you park. They use forklifts to tow you car. Nothing like seeing your rental car 20 feet in the air. Also why bother with a road block when a shipping container full of acid will do the same job at a fraction of the price. That'll stop traffic.
7. I have always loved and enjoyed my food, but I had so much great stuff on this trip. Always order the Malai chicken tikka boti, and never order the zafrani badami leg of anything. The longer the name,the stupider the dish. Also, anything makhani is great, especially the daal. Malai is awesome, but it needs a little sprinkle of sugar to go on top of it. The Paratha is the most beautiful thing in the whole world. The croissant can kiss my ass ( though i love you too). When I die, forget the 72 virgins, I want 72 Parathay. Now if these virgins could ALSO make me Parathay, I'm willing to compromise.
7b. Some guy just said I look like Adnan Sami before he got skinny. Shit I have gained so much weight. I better crawl back into a gym.
8. Family is family and we are all connected. I felt so much love from Omar's in laws that not for one second did I think that I was with my own inlaws' inlaws. Everyone is just family. I am taking Ruby aunty with me to Toronto. We spent one day without Aymen, and we really really felt the loss of her prescence, especially Cayden. But not just that. My cousin Aftab, who I rarely see, treated me better than a brother, and just kept on giving and giving. Even after I left for Pindi, he called me everyday to tell me he missed me. I love you Affie! In Rabwah, I thought some random aunty had come to visit me. It turns out she was my moms first cousin, and even in the short time we spent together, this lady who I never knew even existed, gave me so much love, and we were able to reminisce. At Bahishti Makbarah, I realized that many of us are from one big home in India. The Khulufah, Chaudhry sb, Dr. Salam, along with so many relatives of yours and mine lie in peace together. Now it's doesn't make me want to donate everything to Wasiyat, but I'm glad someone did.
8b. I miss my grandparents. All four of them. I also thank them for emigrating and suffering many hardships so I could grow up and write this stupid-ass blog!
9. Knowing Urdu is SO SO important for the next generation. A big reason my experiences have been so good is because I wasn't an idiot trying to speak English everywhere. Punjabi is not commonly used and Urdu is king. I'm 37, had never been to Pakistan, and still learned the language, so I know it's possible. Moreover, my parents speak perfect Canadian English, so Urdu was never imposed on us. I learned Urdu from the Khans, ShahRukh, Salman and Aamir, from Mr. Bachchan, from Mohammadi Rafi and Lataji, from Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Jagjit Singh. So if someone has a problem with my son listening to Rahat or watching Hindi films, come talk to me.
10. Do not fuck with the Pakistanis! This country should absolutely not under any circumstances exist. It is a mess. Sporadic electricity at best. Not enough gas to heat your home. Danger everywhere. Absolute corruption from top to bottom. Income is close to nonexistent. Political instability ever day. Dictatorships, military rule, assassinations. Complete lawlessness. But not only does this country continue to somehow work, and grow and progress, it will stand toe to toe with anyone. The Americans bombed the shit out of Afghanistan to find OBL, but when he turned up in Abbotabad (beautiful town I hear btw), they politely captured him, said sorry sorry and bye bye. India stands strong with a billion people, and missiles pointed, and Pakistan says mess with us and Mumbai becomes Boombai. We'll make a mcbc out of Delhi. I love India I think like a mother, but respect Pakistan like a father. How did they get their hands on a nuclear weapon? These people are crazy. In Lahore they will just slap you until you bleed, in Karachi they will hold a pistol to your eye and make you piss yourself. In Peshawar they actually will bend you over, pull down your shalwar, call you Salma, and make you their bitch!
That's it for me and Pakistan! Such a great holiday. Thanks for reading. Aisha's turn.
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
R-town!
So while I'm so appreciative that this blog has over 2500 hits, I noticed that my daily viewership has come down a bit. Granted, some of you may just be bored of me. Others I think are just looking for juicy gossip or the latest poo pooh joke.
So yeah, I stepped in a gutter full of shit today! I hope your happy!
We had the longest day trip today to R-town (aptly named to avoid further detection and keep me from being detained). To compare, let's say I was visiting Manchester, then I took my wife on a day trip to London. Lets say we set off at 6am without breakfast and then went to visit a graveyard, met with KMV, I-sahib and A-sahib, still no breakfast, then had tea at moody mamoos, habib aunties, Lally aunties and baby aunties and phupo Salma's then drove my ass back to Manchester while eating takeaway. "That would never happen?" you say? Damn right it wouldn't, cuz that's a crazy ass day. Oh and and don't forget I stepped in shit in front of mamoos house!
I really enjoyed visiting the graveyard in R-town. There is such a sense of history both personal and on a broader scale. Distinguished members of the community are buried there, as are many of your relatives and it's just a cool way to see how we are all connected, and how we all come from the same place and our families have had such similar experiences. I am especially lucky to have visited and prayed at the feet of my Bari Ami and Bari Abu. I was close to both, never saw them enough, and didn't think I would get this opportunity. I miss them dearly. Did you know that Bari Ami was only 67 when she passed? So young!
Aisha then spent some time shopping for burkas which I don't understand. Told her she needs a burka like I need a thong. Sure it feels great on holiday, but you'll never wear it at home.
Uncle took Omar and I around to the head offices around town, meeting the many officials around town who happened to be his good friends. These guys were like top top officials, but all really nice and welcoming. Had lots of tea, chatted a bit, and one guy gave me a handkerchief from KMV. The office complexes here are just fantastic. Beautiful buildings, modern set up. This place rivals anything in Maple, Silver Springs or Southfields! I was really impressed! These guys know what they are doing.
Rest of the day was spent on the go, visiting uncles many chachas and his Mamoo. We got to see the home where he and his parents grew up. Uncle wanted to show Aymen and I and Cayden off a bit which was very sweet. They were all very nice, and one chacha in particular had spent many years in Uganda and knew my family there very well. He told me me many stories of my father, grandfather and grandfathers brother who was a devoted community member. Everyone of us at least one famous link to the community. He is mine.
One dude, a cousin, had 7 kids. 6 boys and a girl. Holy crap what's that like?
FINALLY, squeezed in a dinner of tikkas and kebabs on the go on the way home. I no longer like the concept of on the go. I want to enjoy my food experience. None of this drive thru shit. We've alhamdolillah made it back into pindi safely despite the protests. Last full day in Pakistan for me tomorrow. Aisha has agreed to continue to add to the blog as Aymens dad is going to be taking her to the pind, his actual pind!
So to recap, I stepped in shit, my thong itches and I still want my f@?&ing breakfast!
So yeah, I stepped in a gutter full of shit today! I hope your happy!
We had the longest day trip today to R-town (aptly named to avoid further detection and keep me from being detained). To compare, let's say I was visiting Manchester, then I took my wife on a day trip to London. Lets say we set off at 6am without breakfast and then went to visit a graveyard, met with KMV, I-sahib and A-sahib, still no breakfast, then had tea at moody mamoos, habib aunties, Lally aunties and baby aunties and phupo Salma's then drove my ass back to Manchester while eating takeaway. "That would never happen?" you say? Damn right it wouldn't, cuz that's a crazy ass day. Oh and and don't forget I stepped in shit in front of mamoos house!
I really enjoyed visiting the graveyard in R-town. There is such a sense of history both personal and on a broader scale. Distinguished members of the community are buried there, as are many of your relatives and it's just a cool way to see how we are all connected, and how we all come from the same place and our families have had such similar experiences. I am especially lucky to have visited and prayed at the feet of my Bari Ami and Bari Abu. I was close to both, never saw them enough, and didn't think I would get this opportunity. I miss them dearly. Did you know that Bari Ami was only 67 when she passed? So young!
Aisha then spent some time shopping for burkas which I don't understand. Told her she needs a burka like I need a thong. Sure it feels great on holiday, but you'll never wear it at home.
Uncle took Omar and I around to the head offices around town, meeting the many officials around town who happened to be his good friends. These guys were like top top officials, but all really nice and welcoming. Had lots of tea, chatted a bit, and one guy gave me a handkerchief from KMV. The office complexes here are just fantastic. Beautiful buildings, modern set up. This place rivals anything in Maple, Silver Springs or Southfields! I was really impressed! These guys know what they are doing.
Rest of the day was spent on the go, visiting uncles many chachas and his Mamoo. We got to see the home where he and his parents grew up. Uncle wanted to show Aymen and I and Cayden off a bit which was very sweet. They were all very nice, and one chacha in particular had spent many years in Uganda and knew my family there very well. He told me me many stories of my father, grandfather and grandfathers brother who was a devoted community member. Everyone of us at least one famous link to the community. He is mine.
One dude, a cousin, had 7 kids. 6 boys and a girl. Holy crap what's that like?
FINALLY, squeezed in a dinner of tikkas and kebabs on the go on the way home. I no longer like the concept of on the go. I want to enjoy my food experience. None of this drive thru shit. We've alhamdolillah made it back into pindi safely despite the protests. Last full day in Pakistan for me tomorrow. Aisha has agreed to continue to add to the blog as Aymens dad is going to be taking her to the pind, his actual pind!
So to recap, I stepped in shit, my thong itches and I still want my f@?&ing breakfast!
Friday, January 11, 2013
Family Guy
As much as I loved Lahore, its time to go home to my family. Even if they are in Rawalpindi.
As you can imagine I've been missing my son like crazy and when he saw me he came running and wouldn't let me go. Every fathers dream!
Cayden has only been here a few days but what a huge difference in his Urdu, both in understanding and spoken. I brought him a puzzle with what I thought were Urdu numerals but it turns out what I brought was Arabic. What the hell do I know? But I sat with Cayden and he picked up " ek, do, teen" all the way to 21. For us, that's a pretty big deal. Lets hope Aisha picks up Urdu just as quickly. Lol. Aymens dad is going to charge her a 100 rupee fine each time she speaks English. My Urdu on the other hand is awesome!
Asfa likes the toilet jokes so she'll be happy to know that poor uncle has gotten sick, Omar is sick and Aadil is sick. But wait Aadil is still in Canada? I guess when one of them eats a kebab, they all get diarrhea.
We are in shaadi mode now and having a great time with Aymens parents. Plus I'm in a jolly good Pakistani mood. Aunty heard my foodie stories and is topping them with ghar ka khana. Fantastic! Parathas with gur. Wow!
But there's only three of us accompanying the groom and there's lots of work to be done. Sat down in the evening chopping coconuts and filling hundreds of little nikaah gift bags all the while cursing you relatives who aren't here with us. "Aadil china ka, mamoo china ka, chacha china ka, shimmi shoab china ke!"
Omar wakes up from his slumber and I say "yaar, I know you cried during my wedding, but why are you making ME cry way before yours?"
All in good fun. Having a blast!
Sunday, January 6, 2013
In the depths
I've endured 8 hours locked in a middle eastern airport terminal. I've got no jokes, I find nothing funny right now. I just want this plane to come and take me. Four more hours.
I've read, shopped, watched movies, charged all my gadgets, ate, slept, even prayed and still. Time stands still. I was hoping I could sleep, but a half hour nap leaves me refreshed. I don't want to be refreshed, I want to sleep through it.
Tom Hanks made being stuck in terminal look easy. But he was in New York, there was a Burger King, and that was all bullshit.
You may be thinking, "well, maybe he saved a lot of money?" Nope. Plans changed last minute and I just had to get there. It's been a hard journey.
One thing is for sure, I better get a visa so I can visit Riyadh on the return trip. If not, I'm staying in Pakistan.
I get why people come to the West and don't go back. Give them a break. After making the trip, it's easier to make a new home someplace then make the long voyage home! And they come on boats!
I've read, shopped, watched movies, charged all my gadgets, ate, slept, even prayed and still. Time stands still. I was hoping I could sleep, but a half hour nap leaves me refreshed. I don't want to be refreshed, I want to sleep through it.
Tom Hanks made being stuck in terminal look easy. But he was in New York, there was a Burger King, and that was all bullshit.
You may be thinking, "well, maybe he saved a lot of money?" Nope. Plans changed last minute and I just had to get there. It's been a hard journey.
One thing is for sure, I better get a visa so I can visit Riyadh on the return trip. If not, I'm staying in Pakistan.
I get why people come to the West and don't go back. Give them a break. After making the trip, it's easier to make a new home someplace then make the long voyage home! And they come on boats!
Hanging around the airport.
In Jeddah, safe and sound, and now stuck. There's no way to get a transit visa for Saudi at the airport, so here I am, in the terminal for 12 hours. It's just started, and I'm miserable. From now on direct flights, don't care what it costs. Luckily Aisha and Cayden aren't here, they would be beside themselves.
There's a single coffee shop and sandwich bar. At least the airline gave me a voucher for dinner. Small victories right?
I tried to be classy and confident and walk into the first class lounge. Turns out I'm not that classy!
Speaking of classy, I have discovered the squatter! It's actually cleaner here to use because of the whole Muslim shower system. Regular toilets get really gross. And of course. No toilet paper! I left all mine in checked baggage. But I'm not complaining. I actually travel well, and am adjusting. Have actually made friends with a couple of desi guys. Good to know Urdu.
So if someone, anyone is free. Skype me or email me. I'm so fricking bored.
There's a single coffee shop and sandwich bar. At least the airline gave me a voucher for dinner. Small victories right?
I tried to be classy and confident and walk into the first class lounge. Turns out I'm not that classy!
Speaking of classy, I have discovered the squatter! It's actually cleaner here to use because of the whole Muslim shower system. Regular toilets get really gross. And of course. No toilet paper! I left all mine in checked baggage. But I'm not complaining. I actually travel well, and am adjusting. Have actually made friends with a couple of desi guys. Good to know Urdu.
So if someone, anyone is free. Skype me or email me. I'm so fricking bored.
F*%#king JFK
So Air Canada flight to New York, I've got a nexus card, quick flight, 3 hours in New York, plenty of time to change terminals. Easy peasy right?
Not for me!
I get to JFK, New York, AMERICA, and the stupid Airtrain between terminals isn't working! They don't tell you it's not working. It just never comes. No attendants, no information booth. Nothing!
Now a tiny little bus comes by every 30 minutes to take ppl around, never stopping at the same place twice. Islamabadi's, you've got nothing on Americans. When the bus finally arrives, already full, these guys ATTACK it. Me with my "aunty suitcase" don't stand a chance. I push over an old lady to get on one. Only got two hours to my flight, I gotta do what I gotta do. We make it one stop, when the driver announces he is now travelling to Jamaica, Queens all of a sudden. 1 hour and I've made it ONE stop. stuck at terminal 8.
I finally find an illegal Indian taxi cabbie who I coax into driving me to terminal one. Thank god I know hindi. So 30 dollars later I make it to my terminal with little time to spare. ( Aisha you would have done this an hour ago, but you'd be so proud)
Saudi Airlines itself is pretty decent to Jeddah. Boarding is easy. But one funny thing. This poor innocent white guy had booked himself a nice little exit row. But upon reaching his seat, the attendant informs him he is now sitting in some random row. I think he's still arguing about it now.
I seem to be seated near the "prayer area" at the back of the aircraft. There's a good size area open, where u can do sajda. At least 8 could pray here. I'm probably not gonna, but just sayin. Actually, I probably will. Will kill some time.
SHIT, new update. White guy is reading namaaz. He's one of them....I mean US
Fun fact. Most airline movies obviously are family friendly having cut out sex and swearing. Arab friendly goes further. Small amounts of cleavage are blurred out totally drawing your attention to it. Hindi songs are out. And any MENTION of an alcohol is removed. Guy sits at a bar, orders a ____. Showing ppl drink is fine.
Dude in front of me is watching a bootleg of "This is 40" on his iPad which has a little nudity in it. So he creates this fort with blankets between his seats so no one can see.
Food on this airline was pretty decent. Chicken and saffron with roast potatoes. I even landed a second entree of tilapia and rice. Half way through the flight, they set up a buffet station with all you can eat sandwiches and fruit. No too shabby.
On board and off to Jeddah.
Alhumdilillah!
Not for me!
I get to JFK, New York, AMERICA, and the stupid Airtrain between terminals isn't working! They don't tell you it's not working. It just never comes. No attendants, no information booth. Nothing!
Now a tiny little bus comes by every 30 minutes to take ppl around, never stopping at the same place twice. Islamabadi's, you've got nothing on Americans. When the bus finally arrives, already full, these guys ATTACK it. Me with my "aunty suitcase" don't stand a chance. I push over an old lady to get on one. Only got two hours to my flight, I gotta do what I gotta do. We make it one stop, when the driver announces he is now travelling to Jamaica, Queens all of a sudden. 1 hour and I've made it ONE stop. stuck at terminal 8.
I finally find an illegal Indian taxi cabbie who I coax into driving me to terminal one. Thank god I know hindi. So 30 dollars later I make it to my terminal with little time to spare. ( Aisha you would have done this an hour ago, but you'd be so proud)
Saudi Airlines itself is pretty decent to Jeddah. Boarding is easy. But one funny thing. This poor innocent white guy had booked himself a nice little exit row. But upon reaching his seat, the attendant informs him he is now sitting in some random row. I think he's still arguing about it now.
I seem to be seated near the "prayer area" at the back of the aircraft. There's a good size area open, where u can do sajda. At least 8 could pray here. I'm probably not gonna, but just sayin. Actually, I probably will. Will kill some time.
SHIT, new update. White guy is reading namaaz. He's one of them....I mean US
Fun fact. Most airline movies obviously are family friendly having cut out sex and swearing. Arab friendly goes further. Small amounts of cleavage are blurred out totally drawing your attention to it. Hindi songs are out. And any MENTION of an alcohol is removed. Guy sits at a bar, orders a ____. Showing ppl drink is fine.
Dude in front of me is watching a bootleg of "This is 40" on his iPad which has a little nudity in it. So he creates this fort with blankets between his seats so no one can see.
Food on this airline was pretty decent. Chicken and saffron with roast potatoes. I even landed a second entree of tilapia and rice. Half way through the flight, they set up a buffet station with all you can eat sandwiches and fruit. No too shabby.
On board and off to Jeddah.
Alhumdilillah!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
My journey begins.
So I'm off on my first flight to new york. No complaining today. I'm very excited to be off on this adventure.
Just a little sad to be alone. I don't like leaving my family even for a day and watching cayden cry for me as I left was tough. Ill see them in 5 days and at least I get peace and quiet on the plane.
You know my friend Jamal asked "so azhar bhai is going to Pakistan for the first time? What's the big deal?" His mom responds"he's 37"
"Oh, that's different!"
I think that's the point. I'm going as an adult so have no childhood memories to compare to. No idea of what to expect other than the exaggerated warnings from my family and friends. I hope for the best and expect the worse!
All of you who know me know that I am entrenched in and appreciative of Pakistani. I sing qawalli and play cricket and wear kurtas and cook kebabs. And Pakistani women are beautiful. I even married one! Maybe even two?
And more importantly Aisha and I are going to meet our great new sister in law Aymen, and to help guide her and omar on this first leg of their own long journey.
But I'm not going im blind. The culture shock will be huge, the dangers apparent and the memories unforgettable. I'll tell you how I really see it.
So how does my wife say goodbye?
"Azhar, let me look at you, hopefully not for the last time. And if you do end up in trouble or kidnapped or in jail. I'll be sure to remember what you always tell me."
"IT'S NOT WORTH THE MONEY"
Friday, January 4, 2013
Gods new plan
Astaghfarulah
So I must have really pissed God off with my earlier rants.
And as punishment he threw some unforeseen circumstances my way cancelling my partying in London and Dubai and instead has called for me directly to him in Saudi Arabia.
Poor Omar and I spent the entire day on the phone rerouting my trip. Stupid call centres are full of idiots, 45 minute hold times, inability to process credit cards. One attendant actually spent 20 minutes with a pen and paper doing basic math to see how much money I lost. I thought Indians were smart? I'm so poor.
And what's worse, I fly back through New York and will enjoy going through US customs with a passport full of urdu and Arabic. That inappropriate rape comment from before. Oh that's definitely happening but now a white guy will do it.
So 30 hours to get to Islamabad and 40 hours to get back. I'm going to be so grumpy!
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