I was ready, but it was so sad to leave the country.
I have made a true connection with Pakistan... finally after years of visiting.
Khuda Hafiz, Pakistan - fair mulakaat hogai
(Goodbye, Pakistan - see you soon!)
x
Monday 20 October 2008
Friday 17 October 2008
Another assessment x3
I visited one village and managed to get information about 2 more villages in need of water from locals living in the villages. So, all-in-all, I have information about 5 villages now!! Hoorah! Busy day!!
Zahid was stopped by the police in Abbottabad, but managed to escape with a cup of tea. How does he do it?! x
Wednesday 15 October 2008
All's well that ends well … and it ended very well indeed!
So, today was an unplanned day that Zahid and I decided to spend together given it was his last day here in DMS. So, first things first: get my PIA ticket. Once the weather got a bit less rainy, Zahid and I left DMS straight for the PIA office. The men there were very helpful, found my booking, but could only take cash, not credit card. Oh, crap. As I didn't have 30k rupees on me, I agreed with them that I would return shortly with the pennies before 3pm. So, off we trot. The bank was not far, thankfully, so we went it and I decided that I had the time to sort out my account stuff, too. You might recall, I open an account before and was given 10k rupees from the bank manager. I thought it was time I paid it back, pick up my debit card/cheque book and consider removing the majority of the money. It was 1pm by this time so all this was do able. I paid the manager back, took money for the ticket and then decided to withdraw 60k rupees to convert back to GBP so only a little money remained in my account. In other words, I had quite a lot of money in my pocket and only a short while now to return to the PIA office.
Just as we left the bank, we were met, as arranged with my host's cousin. He was going to accompany us around to ensure we were ok. One of the slightly annoying aspects of Pakistani culture: People think we will always be ripped off, but in escorting us everywhere we end up doing things differently and not getting the experience we desire. Today was a classic example.
In meeting this cousin, we were delayed in getting a rickshaw slightly. In waiting for another rickshaw, Zahid and I were stopped by 2 men asking us where we came from, what we were doing etc. I was on a mission to get my PIA ticket so didn't bother with them, but they then became a bit more forceful and claimed they were the 'secret police'. Of course, my response was "not anymore, Jack". They didn't seem amused, but as I tried to get a rickshaw, they shooed it away which pissed me off no end. They then insisted on us answering their questions and they wanted to know if we were Pakistanis and where our ID cards were. Really not in the mood for this madness, I asked where their cards were. One replied "In my pocket" and when I asked him to show me it, I told him he was a liar and needed to go now because he was being a knob (plus, I've heard about fake police people - Dakus - and their thieving ways, which, given as I had just come out of a bank, I was not ruling out this possibility!) Anyway, I refused him our details and then suddenly, the cousin came over and recognized the men as his friends. I thought this madness would be over now and we could go, but we were told to follow these police and somehow stupidly, we did! I think I was swayed by the cousin knowing them that I agreed, but where we were led down this dodgy staircase to a basement 'office', my concerns grew. It was 2.20 by now. Suddenly, we 3 were surrounded by about 10 men who were blocking the door. In my threatened state (partly due to them and the fact that I might now not get my ticket), I became very verbally aggressive and demanded they back the heck off. They were very calm as I ranted on about them being a ridiculous outfit. They kept saying that I didn't understand their questions and that I needed an NoC (no objections certificate) to be in Pakistan. However, as I am Pakistani with a Pakistani ID, they didn't need to waste my or their time. But, there was no way I was going to co-operate given they were not showing me their ID. Anyway, I did write down a few bits of information for them as a compromise. When they continued to talk about us again for about 1 minute after my writing this info down, I started up again with even more frustration and within a few minutes, they let us go.
Un known to me, they had taken the cousin's number and were tracking our movements. I managed to get my PIA ticket (thank goodness!) and wanted to change my remaining money into GBP. But, it wasn't until we were in the bank that I heard the cousin tell someone on the phone where exactly we were. I shouted at the cousin for being a prick and promptly left the bank for my host's office. This is where she had a go at the cousin for being a prick. Soon after, the police arrived at the office and Abuse Part 3 commenced with no hesitation. My host recognized 1 of the party and by this time I was so bored of this bull that when she asked me for my ID card, I handed it over. I did still demand to see their ID and the Chief who accompanied them pulled out the sorriest excuse of a business card, you know the sort you can get printed at those machines in shopping malls. I threw it back at him and told him that if he thought that was suitable ID, then this would partly explain the state f this country's affairs. Anyway, once I sensed a satisfied response from the Chief re my ID card, I stormed out of the room in true diva style and continued on to convert my money.
But, the trauma did not end there: I got my eyebrows etc sorted at a local beauty parlour and then I impromptuously and stupidly, I requested a haircut. The woman did not want to listen to my instructions of redoing the layer and hacked of a ridiculous amount of hair, stating that she's adding in the step, as I requested. Noooooooooo…
However, after being calmed down with a promise of crisps, we eventually returned home to a text message saying my sister-in-law had popped and my 6lb 1oz nephew, Aman, had been born. I cannot explain how happy I feel. I know he is beautiful and I love him already. Suddenly, life seems a-ok.
I forgot all about my crisps. God bless my beautiful Aman x
Just as we left the bank, we were met, as arranged with my host's cousin. He was going to accompany us around to ensure we were ok. One of the slightly annoying aspects of Pakistani culture: People think we will always be ripped off, but in escorting us everywhere we end up doing things differently and not getting the experience we desire. Today was a classic example.
In meeting this cousin, we were delayed in getting a rickshaw slightly. In waiting for another rickshaw, Zahid and I were stopped by 2 men asking us where we came from, what we were doing etc. I was on a mission to get my PIA ticket so didn't bother with them, but they then became a bit more forceful and claimed they were the 'secret police'. Of course, my response was "not anymore, Jack". They didn't seem amused, but as I tried to get a rickshaw, they shooed it away which pissed me off no end. They then insisted on us answering their questions and they wanted to know if we were Pakistanis and where our ID cards were. Really not in the mood for this madness, I asked where their cards were. One replied "In my pocket" and when I asked him to show me it, I told him he was a liar and needed to go now because he was being a knob (plus, I've heard about fake police people - Dakus - and their thieving ways, which, given as I had just come out of a bank, I was not ruling out this possibility!) Anyway, I refused him our details and then suddenly, the cousin came over and recognized the men as his friends. I thought this madness would be over now and we could go, but we were told to follow these police and somehow stupidly, we did! I think I was swayed by the cousin knowing them that I agreed, but where we were led down this dodgy staircase to a basement 'office', my concerns grew. It was 2.20 by now. Suddenly, we 3 were surrounded by about 10 men who were blocking the door. In my threatened state (partly due to them and the fact that I might now not get my ticket), I became very verbally aggressive and demanded they back the heck off. They were very calm as I ranted on about them being a ridiculous outfit. They kept saying that I didn't understand their questions and that I needed an NoC (no objections certificate) to be in Pakistan. However, as I am Pakistani with a Pakistani ID, they didn't need to waste my or their time. But, there was no way I was going to co-operate given they were not showing me their ID. Anyway, I did write down a few bits of information for them as a compromise. When they continued to talk about us again for about 1 minute after my writing this info down, I started up again with even more frustration and within a few minutes, they let us go.
Un known to me, they had taken the cousin's number and were tracking our movements. I managed to get my PIA ticket (thank goodness!) and wanted to change my remaining money into GBP. But, it wasn't until we were in the bank that I heard the cousin tell someone on the phone where exactly we were. I shouted at the cousin for being a prick and promptly left the bank for my host's office. This is where she had a go at the cousin for being a prick. Soon after, the police arrived at the office and Abuse Part 3 commenced with no hesitation. My host recognized 1 of the party and by this time I was so bored of this bull that when she asked me for my ID card, I handed it over. I did still demand to see their ID and the Chief who accompanied them pulled out the sorriest excuse of a business card, you know the sort you can get printed at those machines in shopping malls. I threw it back at him and told him that if he thought that was suitable ID, then this would partly explain the state f this country's affairs. Anyway, once I sensed a satisfied response from the Chief re my ID card, I stormed out of the room in true diva style and continued on to convert my money.
But, the trauma did not end there: I got my eyebrows etc sorted at a local beauty parlour and then I impromptuously and stupidly, I requested a haircut. The woman did not want to listen to my instructions of redoing the layer and hacked of a ridiculous amount of hair, stating that she's adding in the step, as I requested. Noooooooooo…
However, after being calmed down with a promise of crisps, we eventually returned home to a text message saying my sister-in-law had popped and my 6lb 1oz nephew, Aman, had been born. I cannot explain how happy I feel. I know he is beautiful and I love him already. Suddenly, life seems a-ok.
I forgot all about my crisps. God bless my beautiful Aman x
Tuesday 14 October 2008
Balakot – The often inaccurately-described epicentre
I called PIA again and they said they could extend my deadline to 3pm tomorrow and in fact I could go to the PIA office in Muzaffarabad. Sa-weet. Job for tomorrow.
Zahid was only going to stay until Thursday morning and then he was going to cycle back to Islamabad where I would meet him, hopefully for a return journey back together (PIA had). He rested the first couple of days, just checking out the village and its river.
I had a meeting arranged in Balakot with some locals of villages near Balakot itself. They described water problems so I went to assess their needs. Zahid came along, as did my host and her brother-in-law, who drove us there. Balakot is actually equidistant to the epicenter of the earthquake as Muzaffarabad, but the damage in this city has been vastly different. Balakot is a smaller city with much less damage due to landslides. Instead, most of their buildings collapsed with the quake, including on the less steep hillsides. As we drove into Balakot, it was clear that many blue-roofed shelters had been provided to the affectees. Apparently, these were completely free donations by various countries/organisations and, when I saw one of them, I was surprised at how well constructed they were: double-glazed windows, electric power points, lockable doors, 15 year durability. Much better than some of the shelters I'd seen in Muzaffarabad. In addition, we drove past at least 2 hospitals, some schools, a children's play area, bridges spanning the river, new roads and rebuilt shops.
The men we visited from a central area within Balakot seemed very aware of the problems in their specific area that the meeting had much promise. Discussions with them started off with what seemed like a basic water supply problem, but as I recapped with them their needs, they seemed to add on a bit more. So what initially started off with a straight-forward main water pipe line between 2 pre-existing tanks became an extension of an existing mainline, then repair of another line (which Oxfam had already done - even though the locals had collected money for this work, they didn't want to spend it on repairs), to activation of the filtration tank, and finally more activation tanks. I then got told that many an assessment had been carried out on their area, but nothing came of them to the point where people can be abusive of NGO visits. This rang alarm bells – was the lack of funding a function of their needs not being a priority (after all, they have something of everything) together with ignorance of not knowing their relative position, or simply their inability to state clearly their needs? I came to the conclusion that, based on my assessments so far, they were no way a priority and even if they were, it would be difficult to know exactly what they wanted and wasn't entirely sure we would receive active support from the locals. Anyway, another area of Balakot honestly stated that they already had a bit everything, but would like improvements on the situation. Fair enough. I don't think Balakot is a priority area, really!
In the evening, Zahid had planned to begin this massive walk up to Pir Chanasi, some 3km high. The plan was to go up to Thore, that village I assessed, stay overnight to continue early in the morning. But it rained so hard that evening and became so foggy high up that the trip was cancelled. Never mind!
Hope the weather's peachy where you are x
Zahid was only going to stay until Thursday morning and then he was going to cycle back to Islamabad where I would meet him, hopefully for a return journey back together (PIA had). He rested the first couple of days, just checking out the village and its river.
I had a meeting arranged in Balakot with some locals of villages near Balakot itself. They described water problems so I went to assess their needs. Zahid came along, as did my host and her brother-in-law, who drove us there. Balakot is actually equidistant to the epicenter of the earthquake as Muzaffarabad, but the damage in this city has been vastly different. Balakot is a smaller city with much less damage due to landslides. Instead, most of their buildings collapsed with the quake, including on the less steep hillsides. As we drove into Balakot, it was clear that many blue-roofed shelters had been provided to the affectees. Apparently, these were completely free donations by various countries/organisations and, when I saw one of them, I was surprised at how well constructed they were: double-glazed windows, electric power points, lockable doors, 15 year durability. Much better than some of the shelters I'd seen in Muzaffarabad. In addition, we drove past at least 2 hospitals, some schools, a children's play area, bridges spanning the river, new roads and rebuilt shops.
The men we visited from a central area within Balakot seemed very aware of the problems in their specific area that the meeting had much promise. Discussions with them started off with what seemed like a basic water supply problem, but as I recapped with them their needs, they seemed to add on a bit more. So what initially started off with a straight-forward main water pipe line between 2 pre-existing tanks became an extension of an existing mainline, then repair of another line (which Oxfam had already done - even though the locals had collected money for this work, they didn't want to spend it on repairs), to activation of the filtration tank, and finally more activation tanks. I then got told that many an assessment had been carried out on their area, but nothing came of them to the point where people can be abusive of NGO visits. This rang alarm bells – was the lack of funding a function of their needs not being a priority (after all, they have something of everything) together with ignorance of not knowing their relative position, or simply their inability to state clearly their needs? I came to the conclusion that, based on my assessments so far, they were no way a priority and even if they were, it would be difficult to know exactly what they wanted and wasn't entirely sure we would receive active support from the locals. Anyway, another area of Balakot honestly stated that they already had a bit everything, but would like improvements on the situation. Fair enough. I don't think Balakot is a priority area, really!
In the evening, Zahid had planned to begin this massive walk up to Pir Chanasi, some 3km high. The plan was to go up to Thore, that village I assessed, stay overnight to continue early in the morning. But it rained so hard that evening and became so foggy high up that the trip was cancelled. Never mind!
Hope the weather's peachy where you are x
Saturday 11 October 2008
The arrival of the brother
Having trouble booking a flight back to the UK. BA are, in a nutshell, shit. NEVER fly to Pakistan with BA – they have dumped me here to sort myself out with a return flight and their local offices all seem to be closed now (no flights, no office staff). So, I've been calling the UK office. I keep getting told I need to visit a major city to buy my ticket or go to a PIA sales office in Islamabad, 5 hours away because BA and PIA have a repatriation agreement!! Of course, I didn't accept this, but that I had to make a number of calls today and got no where bothered me hugely to say the least. I kinda need to get home. In the end, I focused on calling PIA and finally managed to speak to someone more helpful. She said she could get me a flight, but I could only buy it in person from a sales office, the nearest one being Islamabad. However, she reserved me a seat for the 20 Oct, my original return day, on the same flight as Zahid, my brother, but I had to buy it today. There was no way I was going to get to Islamabad before the day was out so I accepted the reservation and would try my luck later at extending this deadline.
I decided that my illness was fatigue, related to a lack of good sleep (as are many illnesses, in my opinion). However, I soon recovered just about in time to received Zahid, my brother.
Zahid finally reached Muzaffarabad today after an upset tummy/jetlagged start. He also needed to purchase a cycling helmet as he accidentally left his at home - not normally a problem, but given the limited use of motorcycle helmets, cycling helmets were met with strange facial gestures and shoulder shrugs indicting "you'll be lucky, mate". So, he didn't actually leave for Murree until Thursday. However, in his gentle cycling/ramblings around Islamabad in search of a helmet, he realised that perhaps Murree was a bit too much of a steep climb given his slightly ill state. After all, Islamabad is 300m above sea-level and Murree is 2100m and the distance between the two cities is only 60km. You do the math!
So, he decided to catch the bus – again, not a problem assuming you can find the bus station. Now, you've got to remember, Pakistanis don't do much in the way of a) road signs, b) road names, c) inter-city traveling, d) reading or e) saying "I don't know". So, you can imagine finding the bus station was not simple at all. Eventually, he got there after being told be different people that the station in every major direction of the compass and arrived into Murree on Thursday afternoon. Zahid described the journey to Murree as "beautiful and fantastic", but reaching Murree seemed a huge anticlimax, "boring and dirty". However, he did manage to break into the only church to enter what sounded like aanother world or green grass, children playing on the lawns, parents sitting at a picnic. These were the priest of the church's family who invited Zahid in for a cuppa. Lovely. The 3 police check points even seemed trouble-free, even if one of the policemen tried Zahid's bike and rode a fair distance away, inadvertently scaring Zahid into thinking he was watching his bike and luggage being stolen.
Zahid left Murree on Saturday, direct to Muzaffarabad on bike. 40km was marked mainly by "weeeeeeeeee…" and the remaining 40km were tougher. I was at a typically Muslim wedding (ie boring and impersonal, though, atypically, food was served some 3 hours late that when it was announced, everyone stormed the dinner hall as if they hadn't eaten for 3 iftars of Ramadan. My hand was even slapped away after I, in true Brit style, patiently waited my turn to serve myself!! Some people then very strangely proceeded to cast their chicken bones on the floor ready for their next helping. I was a little perplexed by this behaviour and tried to shield myself in a corner of the dinner hall) and so was very pleased when Zahid called to say his legs were now jelly and could I pick him up from the petrol station he had almost collapsed in and where the owners of a nearby shop were helping him regain the feeling in his legs by feeding him Cornettos. So, I did!
It was really great to see him, particularly after his adventure, but I must have been in conservative Kashmir too long as hugging him seemed a bit awkward. I was surprised I didn't let that cultural issue go, but we sat in the back of the Suzuki chatting an laughing away as we drove back to the village. Twas lovely.
I decided that my illness was fatigue, related to a lack of good sleep (as are many illnesses, in my opinion). However, I soon recovered just about in time to received Zahid, my brother.
Zahid finally reached Muzaffarabad today after an upset tummy/jetlagged start. He also needed to purchase a cycling helmet as he accidentally left his at home - not normally a problem, but given the limited use of motorcycle helmets, cycling helmets were met with strange facial gestures and shoulder shrugs indicting "you'll be lucky, mate". So, he didn't actually leave for Murree until Thursday. However, in his gentle cycling/ramblings around Islamabad in search of a helmet, he realised that perhaps Murree was a bit too much of a steep climb given his slightly ill state. After all, Islamabad is 300m above sea-level and Murree is 2100m and the distance between the two cities is only 60km. You do the math!
So, he decided to catch the bus – again, not a problem assuming you can find the bus station. Now, you've got to remember, Pakistanis don't do much in the way of a) road signs, b) road names, c) inter-city traveling, d) reading or e) saying "I don't know". So, you can imagine finding the bus station was not simple at all. Eventually, he got there after being told be different people that the station in every major direction of the compass and arrived into Murree on Thursday afternoon. Zahid described the journey to Murree as "beautiful and fantastic", but reaching Murree seemed a huge anticlimax, "boring and dirty". However, he did manage to break into the only church to enter what sounded like aanother world or green grass, children playing on the lawns, parents sitting at a picnic. These were the priest of the church's family who invited Zahid in for a cuppa. Lovely. The 3 police check points even seemed trouble-free, even if one of the policemen tried Zahid's bike and rode a fair distance away, inadvertently scaring Zahid into thinking he was watching his bike and luggage being stolen.
Zahid left Murree on Saturday, direct to Muzaffarabad on bike. 40km was marked mainly by "weeeeeeeeee…" and the remaining 40km were tougher. I was at a typically Muslim wedding (ie boring and impersonal, though, atypically, food was served some 3 hours late that when it was announced, everyone stormed the dinner hall as if they hadn't eaten for 3 iftars of Ramadan. My hand was even slapped away after I, in true Brit style, patiently waited my turn to serve myself!! Some people then very strangely proceeded to cast their chicken bones on the floor ready for their next helping. I was a little perplexed by this behaviour and tried to shield myself in a corner of the dinner hall) and so was very pleased when Zahid called to say his legs were now jelly and could I pick him up from the petrol station he had almost collapsed in and where the owners of a nearby shop were helping him regain the feeling in his legs by feeding him Cornettos. So, I did!
It was really great to see him, particularly after his adventure, but I must have been in conservative Kashmir too long as hugging him seemed a bit awkward. I was surprised I didn't let that cultural issue go, but we sat in the back of the Suzuki chatting an laughing away as we drove back to the village. Twas lovely.
Wednesday 8 October 2008
The Eagle has landed...
My brother, Zahid, finally arrived into Islamabad a couple of days back with his bike (he plans to cycle between Islamabad and Muzafarrabad, approx. 100km). Unknowingly, the hotel I arranged for him was just around the corner from the Marriott bomb-blast… Ooops. Which reminds me, I still don't have a flight booked back to London after BA's over-the-top suspension of flights to/from Pakistan. Oh, great, and now I'm ill… L
Hope you're in better health x
Ps It was the 3rd anniversary of the earthquake today. It was marked very subtly with food offerings to family and friends that is you blinked or (somehow) did not know it was the anniversary, you'd think it was just a normal day. Unless you spoke to someone about it, you would not know. There was apparently a ceremony in the city which we decided to stay away from given the currently bombing interest here and some kids were off school, but unless you spoke to someone about it, you would not know. Please remember the victims and their families in your prayers over the next few days.
Hope you're in better health x
Ps It was the 3rd anniversary of the earthquake today. It was marked very subtly with food offerings to family and friends that is you blinked or (somehow) did not know it was the anniversary, you'd think it was just a normal day. Unless you spoke to someone about it, you would not know. There was apparently a ceremony in the city which we decided to stay away from given the currently bombing interest here and some kids were off school, but unless you spoke to someone about it, you would not know. Please remember the victims and their families in your prayers over the next few days.
Tuesday 7 October 2008
Reality sucks!
As the Eid celebrations continue and there is more time to learn about how people operate here, it is clear that corruption is rife everywhere, and in the charity field/social enterprise field, it is no different. Or there is plain disorganization that means that money is inefficiently used and consequently sent back to the benefactor, typically some rich Arab geezer who just didn't know what to do with the extra change.
Sadly, I have learnt that someone is almost always making a fast buck from whatever they can. It's disgusting. I have even been involved in minor levels of this behaviour already: My host works as a contractor for the government and recently submitted a proposal to run a vocational training course on vegetable growing. According to her, this is not a new programme, but her application form is being majorly delayed. Now, my host's ex-boss contacted her and said he would like to meet me. So, he's taken us both out on day trips, apparently, to show me the Muzaffarabad area. In doing so, he's asked me many a question about my observations so far and where I think work should be focusing. I do believe that education is seriously lacking in this area now, with families not being able to send children to school. So, he proposed a business plan to me to open a school up and upfront asked for 350,000 rupees. Of course, I said that I'd think about it. But, it just so happens that this man is in charge of my host's vegetable growing application and he seems to be implying that her application may never be process unless she puts pressure on me to enter this school business. How mad is that?! I want to play this guy a this game somehow, but my host says to not bother because he's incredibly shrewd and I suppose I wouldn't want any repercussions for her. Fair point, but boooorrrrrriiiiiing!!
On the other hand, I've managed to secure some contact details of filthy rich Arab folk who I'm going to attempt to get some money from. They are big sources of unfd for this Kashmir area so are worth accessing. It's the longest shot of my life, but I'm fired up now...
Hope you are experiencing a relaxing corrupt-free life x
Sadly, I have learnt that someone is almost always making a fast buck from whatever they can. It's disgusting. I have even been involved in minor levels of this behaviour already: My host works as a contractor for the government and recently submitted a proposal to run a vocational training course on vegetable growing. According to her, this is not a new programme, but her application form is being majorly delayed. Now, my host's ex-boss contacted her and said he would like to meet me. So, he's taken us both out on day trips, apparently, to show me the Muzaffarabad area. In doing so, he's asked me many a question about my observations so far and where I think work should be focusing. I do believe that education is seriously lacking in this area now, with families not being able to send children to school. So, he proposed a business plan to me to open a school up and upfront asked for 350,000 rupees. Of course, I said that I'd think about it. But, it just so happens that this man is in charge of my host's vegetable growing application and he seems to be implying that her application may never be process unless she puts pressure on me to enter this school business. How mad is that?! I want to play this guy a this game somehow, but my host says to not bother because he's incredibly shrewd and I suppose I wouldn't want any repercussions for her. Fair point, but boooorrrrrriiiiiing!!
On the other hand, I've managed to secure some contact details of filthy rich Arab folk who I'm going to attempt to get some money from. They are big sources of unfd for this Kashmir area so are worth accessing. It's the longest shot of my life, but I'm fired up now...
Hope you are experiencing a relaxing corrupt-free life x
Thursday 2 October 2008
Eid days!!
So, there was a bit of confusion last night because we were first told that Eid would be on Thursday – which put me in an incredibly foul mood as fasting for one more day would – but, then got told it would be Wednesday. Randomness aside, I'm glad this happened.
My host's best bud visited last night and she put mehndi (henna) on both my arms and both sides of my hands. She has some serious skills and I couldn't help but wonder how much talent there was floating around. I mean, other than the artistry of the mehndi, everyone makes and designs their own clothes (another contributing factor for the busyness of Eid), cuts their own hair, deals with their own electricity/plumbing problems and builds their own houses!! Granted, it's because these services are not easily available and not always to the standard we in the UK would be satisfied with, but skills none-the-less! So, last night my sleep was a bit 'crumby' to say the least because of the mehndi drying on my hands overnight.
Unfortunately, a lie-in wasn't going to happen on Eid day as everyone was up and running by 6am!! That's one thing about Pakistani culture I like: It's a very 'early to bed, early to rise'. That said, sleep is something I do feel a bit deprived of recently because of Ramadan. Hopefully, an end has been put to all that for another 11 months or so.
Eid was really fun. Everyone was in good spirits, looking good and there was food everywhere!! You can't argue with that. I looked properly Kashmiri I was told (not sure what that means exactly, but it involved predicting marriage proposals). The day was filled with lots of visits from family and friends, and Eidi (Eid gifts/money) was given to the children. I even got Eidi and made 300r!! Sa-weet.
While sitting there and taking part in the festivities, it occurred to me that this is the first proper Eid I've really had. Back home, it's nothing like this: new clothes, new hair style, extensive visiting and Eidi-giving. If Eid falls on a work day, people typically take annual leave for the morning at least and visiting relatives doesn't happen so readily – not in my experience anyway. I suspect the differences in Eid celebrations are a combination of the UK not being a Muslim country and family being more friendly in Pakistan. I must say, it's worth emigrating to a Muslim country just for Eid.
That said, Muslim hospitality became a bit of a burden. Every household you visited offered food… and sadly, the same food: kheer (rice pudding), chana chaat (chickpea/veg mix), fruit chaat (spicy fruit salad) and mitaai (Indian sweets). So, as the day went by, it became harder to eat people's offerings. But, it's really rude not to eat anything. Given that hardly anyone drank mineral water, I was stuck with the heavier foods. Needless to say, Day 2 was managed a lot better.
And lo-and-behold, that Kashmiri look I was apparently pulling off so well did result in a few interested parties, including a young man who is studying to become a molbie (religious figure)! Thanks, but no thanks!!
My host's best bud visited last night and she put mehndi (henna) on both my arms and both sides of my hands. She has some serious skills and I couldn't help but wonder how much talent there was floating around. I mean, other than the artistry of the mehndi, everyone makes and designs their own clothes (another contributing factor for the busyness of Eid), cuts their own hair, deals with their own electricity/plumbing problems and builds their own houses!! Granted, it's because these services are not easily available and not always to the standard we in the UK would be satisfied with, but skills none-the-less! So, last night my sleep was a bit 'crumby' to say the least because of the mehndi drying on my hands overnight.
Unfortunately, a lie-in wasn't going to happen on Eid day as everyone was up and running by 6am!! That's one thing about Pakistani culture I like: It's a very 'early to bed, early to rise'. That said, sleep is something I do feel a bit deprived of recently because of Ramadan. Hopefully, an end has been put to all that for another 11 months or so.
Eid was really fun. Everyone was in good spirits, looking good and there was food everywhere!! You can't argue with that. I looked properly Kashmiri I was told (not sure what that means exactly, but it involved predicting marriage proposals). The day was filled with lots of visits from family and friends, and Eidi (Eid gifts/money) was given to the children. I even got Eidi and made 300r!! Sa-weet.
While sitting there and taking part in the festivities, it occurred to me that this is the first proper Eid I've really had. Back home, it's nothing like this: new clothes, new hair style, extensive visiting and Eidi-giving. If Eid falls on a work day, people typically take annual leave for the morning at least and visiting relatives doesn't happen so readily – not in my experience anyway. I suspect the differences in Eid celebrations are a combination of the UK not being a Muslim country and family being more friendly in Pakistan. I must say, it's worth emigrating to a Muslim country just for Eid.
That said, Muslim hospitality became a bit of a burden. Every household you visited offered food… and sadly, the same food: kheer (rice pudding), chana chaat (chickpea/veg mix), fruit chaat (spicy fruit salad) and mitaai (Indian sweets). So, as the day went by, it became harder to eat people's offerings. But, it's really rude not to eat anything. Given that hardly anyone drank mineral water, I was stuck with the heavier foods. Needless to say, Day 2 was managed a lot better.
And lo-and-behold, that Kashmiri look I was apparently pulling off so well did result in a few interested parties, including a young man who is studying to become a molbie (religious figure)! Thanks, but no thanks!!
Saturday 27 September 2008
High risk? Perhaps; worth it? Totally!
We eventually got to Thore after a morning/afternoon of organizing local widows to receive 20kg of roti (chapatti) flour, donated by some religious organization that were clearly in it for the publicity, too. The head and deputy of this organisation insisted that their banner was held up behind them as they handed over each bag of flour to each widow while having their photo taken with each widow … and their were a lot of widows and it was the hottest day so far, easily in the 30s.
While waiting, I discovered that Thore was actually visible from DMS. It's actually a few hundred meters further up from sea level and, from DMS, seemed like sparkling hundreds and thousands on a cone of grass ice cream. It looked much greener and so I was hoping much cooler. I'm so glad we decided against horse option! Well, that was before I went on the car journey: Eventually, our car came and it took about 1 hour along what can only be described as a road of rubble. It wasn't even the underlay of a new road! The poor 4x4 struggled, as did we. But, that wasn't the worst bit: the road became steeper, higher, narrower and the rubble turned into boulders at times. The scenery was breath-taking, but I found myself quite tense given that the journey was the equivalent of driving through, say, North Wales, on a poorly-made, single-track 'road' with no barriers and a muther-massive drop below. Needless to say, this road is a post-earthquake facility and um, just thank goodness nothing came in the opposite direction!! Especially as we made the return journey in the thick of the night…
Thore itself is a tiny village of approx. 75 families which means the total population is about 600 people strong because each family has about 8 kids each! The whole village exists on a mountainside, overlooking Muzaffarabad city (amazing views), but was badly destroyed by the quake so people are living in the familiar temporary shelters. Their school is an old UNICEF tent and their water supply really is crap. The picture is somewhat different to what I had previously understood: The current source of water is linked to by lots of people and is set at a lower altitude meaning water does not reach Thore. The new source is far from this lower current source and the Thorens would like a new tank at the new source which is linked to the pipes of the old source, thus by-passing the current tank. KYDS would provide any additional material and labour costs. So, it seems like a cheap project. The villagers explained that there was no water for the school children, for wudu (prayer ablutions), cooking or growing crops. They have a strong case for KYDS support.
Iftar was fantastic: pakora and samosa galore over a back drop of the sun setting over the mountain tops. As the sun disappeared, Muzaffarabad city below came to life with its sparce street lighting.
I spoke to my host about gaining government approval and she just laughed at me and said that the work will not be done if the government is aware of this work because they would try to control the project ie gain funds for themselves.
I went to bed quite angry with the state at which this village had been reduced to, but full of mineral water x
While waiting, I discovered that Thore was actually visible from DMS. It's actually a few hundred meters further up from sea level and, from DMS, seemed like sparkling hundreds and thousands on a cone of grass ice cream. It looked much greener and so I was hoping much cooler. I'm so glad we decided against horse option! Well, that was before I went on the car journey: Eventually, our car came and it took about 1 hour along what can only be described as a road of rubble. It wasn't even the underlay of a new road! The poor 4x4 struggled, as did we. But, that wasn't the worst bit: the road became steeper, higher, narrower and the rubble turned into boulders at times. The scenery was breath-taking, but I found myself quite tense given that the journey was the equivalent of driving through, say, North Wales, on a poorly-made, single-track 'road' with no barriers and a muther-massive drop below. Needless to say, this road is a post-earthquake facility and um, just thank goodness nothing came in the opposite direction!! Especially as we made the return journey in the thick of the night…
Thore itself is a tiny village of approx. 75 families which means the total population is about 600 people strong because each family has about 8 kids each! The whole village exists on a mountainside, overlooking Muzaffarabad city (amazing views), but was badly destroyed by the quake so people are living in the familiar temporary shelters. Their school is an old UNICEF tent and their water supply really is crap. The picture is somewhat different to what I had previously understood: The current source of water is linked to by lots of people and is set at a lower altitude meaning water does not reach Thore. The new source is far from this lower current source and the Thorens would like a new tank at the new source which is linked to the pipes of the old source, thus by-passing the current tank. KYDS would provide any additional material and labour costs. So, it seems like a cheap project. The villagers explained that there was no water for the school children, for wudu (prayer ablutions), cooking or growing crops. They have a strong case for KYDS support.
Iftar was fantastic: pakora and samosa galore over a back drop of the sun setting over the mountain tops. As the sun disappeared, Muzaffarabad city below came to life with its sparce street lighting.
I spoke to my host about gaining government approval and she just laughed at me and said that the work will not be done if the government is aware of this work because they would try to control the project ie gain funds for themselves.
I went to bed quite angry with the state at which this village had been reduced to, but full of mineral water x
A possible water project?
Today, I met with the locals of a neighbouring village, Thore, who had heard about my planned work over the next few weeks. They have a 29-year old, poorly-maintained water supply system from the local Government and were asking me to consider updating it. The system provides such little water now because it is linked to other remote villages that Thorens (people of Thore, I guess) are still needing to either walk at least 1km to a shallow well in the summer or use snow in the winter. Of course, this is completely unacceptable. As the water system is provided by the government, it makes sense to go back to the government and highlight the problem, but I'm assured that this would be fruitless and that KYDS support would be quicker and more beneficial. I'm not sure about the legalities of essentially renovating a public facility, but I will find out. Anyway, the Thorens were keen for me to visit their village and, as they were offering pakoras and samosas, I simply couldn't say 'no' (so easy, I know!)
Thore is about 1hr by car from where I'm staying in Dhanni Mie Sahiba (DMS), but they don't always have access to a car so they have offered horse, taking approximately 4 hours! Now, if I wasn't fasting and it wasn't so hot, this would be a great idea. I'd be well up for that, but alas… The plan is to leave DMS at 8am for Thore, see the current system and check out the spot that a KYDS tank could go up in the mountains (mental note to self: wear walking boots and maybe take harness/belay!) and have iftar. Any plan that ends with food can't be a bad one!
Oh, and so you know the lift that provides the only access from DMS to the city. Well, it was installed and run by a private company that charges 5r (approx. 3p) for a single ride. Now, this sounds very minimal to us back home, but actually for people in a poor village where unemployment is 60%, this is a heck of a lot of money when you think about it costing 10r per person for a return journey for yourself and all your average 5 children (assuming you have a job and can afford to send your kids to school). Given that the average yearly salary in the country is about ₤4oo, this is highly unlikely. Anyway, the point of this story is to say that the lift is essential for access to work, education, health and provisions, but the private company that owns it have upped the travel costs to 7r meaning that it's now 14r for a return crossing and 40% greater than the original price, which, incidentally, is so NOT in line with the rate of inflation, which the company claim. I spoke to my host, who was absolutely seething, about this and she feels the only way to manage this problem is to talk to the local government officials. Not, given what I've recently heard about local government, I'm not hopeful and in airing my concerns, she feels there is no choice. Local papers would not print a paper because they wouldn't want to be seen as trouble-making and refusing to use the lift affects their lifestyle too much. She is currently rounding up support to see the Dep Commissioner at local government. She's really quite hard!
In Pakistan, choices are virtually zero and people are barely keeping their heads above water. As such, anything that affects the status quo means that people go under. Everyone knows this, rendering the people powerless. In many ways, at its core, existence here is very sad.
Enjoy your freedom and security x
Thore is about 1hr by car from where I'm staying in Dhanni Mie Sahiba (DMS), but they don't always have access to a car so they have offered horse, taking approximately 4 hours! Now, if I wasn't fasting and it wasn't so hot, this would be a great idea. I'd be well up for that, but alas… The plan is to leave DMS at 8am for Thore, see the current system and check out the spot that a KYDS tank could go up in the mountains (mental note to self: wear walking boots and maybe take harness/belay!) and have iftar. Any plan that ends with food can't be a bad one!
Oh, and so you know the lift that provides the only access from DMS to the city. Well, it was installed and run by a private company that charges 5r (approx. 3p) for a single ride. Now, this sounds very minimal to us back home, but actually for people in a poor village where unemployment is 60%, this is a heck of a lot of money when you think about it costing 10r per person for a return journey for yourself and all your average 5 children (assuming you have a job and can afford to send your kids to school). Given that the average yearly salary in the country is about ₤4oo, this is highly unlikely. Anyway, the point of this story is to say that the lift is essential for access to work, education, health and provisions, but the private company that owns it have upped the travel costs to 7r meaning that it's now 14r for a return crossing and 40% greater than the original price, which, incidentally, is so NOT in line with the rate of inflation, which the company claim. I spoke to my host, who was absolutely seething, about this and she feels the only way to manage this problem is to talk to the local government officials. Not, given what I've recently heard about local government, I'm not hopeful and in airing my concerns, she feels there is no choice. Local papers would not print a paper because they wouldn't want to be seen as trouble-making and refusing to use the lift affects their lifestyle too much. She is currently rounding up support to see the Dep Commissioner at local government. She's really quite hard!
In Pakistan, choices are virtually zero and people are barely keeping their heads above water. As such, anything that affects the status quo means that people go under. Everyone knows this, rendering the people powerless. In many ways, at its core, existence here is very sad.
Enjoy your freedom and security x
Thursday 25 September 2008
UN Ambassador Khan ... hmmm, not quite!
The UN meeting turned out to be one of those frustrating meetings where actions from previous meetings have failed to be met and nothing seems to have been agreed for the next meeting. However, they did talk about the 3rd anniversary of the earthquake and are planning to hold a ceremony of sorts. But, I left that meeting feeling really disappointed with the Kashmiri Government who seems not to have fully acknowledged the disaster's impact on all aspects of their state's living that I heard again remote areas are neglected of major rehabilitation work. There was also a sense of disjointed working between NGOs as a result of the Government's inabilities that I'm sure aids' efficiency is hugely compromised. Still, I got a sense of where work is currently targeted which was useful in that it was consistent with my previous findings AND I got to put my name down on the attendees list thus perpetuating my feeling of grandeur.
Other than this rather formal meeting, the last few days have been very quiet. They have consisted of getting measured up for my Eid dress, watching my tailor make the dress (he's my host's cousin so it's not as strange as it seems) and knitting a lot (I'm now on the green wool). I've been into the city a couple of times and I keep ODing on samosas and pakoras at iftar (break fast) time, including at Pakistan's best chain of hotels: Pearl Continental (treat of one of my host's contacts)
Eat well – I am! x
Other than this rather formal meeting, the last few days have been very quiet. They have consisted of getting measured up for my Eid dress, watching my tailor make the dress (he's my host's cousin so it's not as strange as it seems) and knitting a lot (I'm now on the green wool). I've been into the city a couple of times and I keep ODing on samosas and pakoras at iftar (break fast) time, including at Pakistan's best chain of hotels: Pearl Continental (treat of one of my host's contacts)
Eat well – I am! x
Tuesday 23 September 2008
Eid's coming
I'm very excited – I have my Eid clothes ready for, apparently, a week's worth of celebrating! Life surely does not get better then this!!
Actually, have to tell you about the my pap experience: Through charity links, I was asked to provide a live broadcast to a local Reading radio station on Sunday at luchtime BST. I'm thinking now if all this clinical psychology malarky fails/gets boring etc, I could be a media presenter. Let's face it there are always slots for muslims on Channel 4, it seems ;-)
Question: Is it wrong to have a religious figure write a poem about you?? Apparently, a religious type was in a meeting I attended and he spoke to my host here and said he liked me so much he wrote a poem about me!! I'm going to reserve judgement until I actually read this (obviously) work of art...
Oh, just learnt from home that I'm officially Dr Dr Khan. Yep, update your records, y'all ;-)
Snogs all 'round x
Actually, have to tell you about the my pap experience: Through charity links, I was asked to provide a live broadcast to a local Reading radio station on Sunday at luchtime BST. I'm thinking now if all this clinical psychology malarky fails/gets boring etc, I could be a media presenter. Let's face it there are always slots for muslims on Channel 4, it seems ;-)
Question: Is it wrong to have a religious figure write a poem about you?? Apparently, a religious type was in a meeting I attended and he spoke to my host here and said he liked me so much he wrote a poem about me!! I'm going to reserve judgement until I actually read this (obviously) work of art...
Oh, just learnt from home that I'm officially Dr Dr Khan. Yep, update your records, y'all ;-)
Snogs all 'round x
Monday 22 September 2008
Finally, some work!
Sunday was a lazy day, but because it was sooooo hot, I was grateful for just visiting people's homes and getting an idea about the impact of installing and having easy access to fresh water. The village overall is very pleased and I keep getting duas (blessing and prayers). This is a typical Pakistani tradition, to bless the givers of positive things, but I felt a tad guilty for receiving all these blessings given it not anything to do with me!! So, I've decided to keep some and give the rest back to the charity. Gosh, I'm so noble and fair :-s
I met some of my host's friends and managed a bit more knitting. It was a really nice, leisurely-paced day. I thing tomorrow will be harder because I plan to do some information gathering.
Heard about the Islamabad bombing – very sad and stupid. I also heard about BA's decision to halt flights in/out of Islamabad temporarily. Bummer, as Zahid, my brother's flying in on 3 October… we'll see what happens there. Not to mention that I'd quite like to cme home at some point, too :-s
Today, Monday, I went into the city to speak to a random slection of various NGOs to get a sense of what they're doing and what they think still needs to be done. So, I picked a few of the little ones, namely UNDP and World Bank ;-) and was invited to a UNDP meeting. I have no idea how that happened, but I thought I'd go anyway because it's a meeting where many NGOs eg Save the Children, UNICEF etc go. Maybe I'll meet some more people and they can give me some valuable information. And the meeting's in English – rock on!!
I did meet a local outfit which receives international funding and felt incredibly smug when the Deputy Director offered to hold a meeting for me and another related charity to help me determine where and how to install another water project. Surely, if this happens and it productive, my assessment work is essentially done?? Or am I getting ahead of myself. My host thinks I am because her 6 years of NGO experience in this area says that it's wise to listen, but not hope for too much. I shan't hold my breath then.
What else happened today? Oh yes, I saw 2 motor bikes crash into one another (thankfully, no-one was hurt and it couldn't have been more comical: I mean, it couldn't have been engineered any better), a man dressed up as a woman (a pretty one at that) and I saw a chicken get slaughtered as I sat in the courtyard of my host house (it's ok, I knew it was going to happen because the chicken sat next to me in the rickshaw taxi on the way home and was bought in my honour, somehow making it alright!?!).
Life goes on in Pakistan, slowly, but surely. I hope all's well at your end, too x
I met some of my host's friends and managed a bit more knitting. It was a really nice, leisurely-paced day. I thing tomorrow will be harder because I plan to do some information gathering.
Heard about the Islamabad bombing – very sad and stupid. I also heard about BA's decision to halt flights in/out of Islamabad temporarily. Bummer, as Zahid, my brother's flying in on 3 October… we'll see what happens there. Not to mention that I'd quite like to cme home at some point, too :-s
Today, Monday, I went into the city to speak to a random slection of various NGOs to get a sense of what they're doing and what they think still needs to be done. So, I picked a few of the little ones, namely UNDP and World Bank ;-) and was invited to a UNDP meeting. I have no idea how that happened, but I thought I'd go anyway because it's a meeting where many NGOs eg Save the Children, UNICEF etc go. Maybe I'll meet some more people and they can give me some valuable information. And the meeting's in English – rock on!!
I did meet a local outfit which receives international funding and felt incredibly smug when the Deputy Director offered to hold a meeting for me and another related charity to help me determine where and how to install another water project. Surely, if this happens and it productive, my assessment work is essentially done?? Or am I getting ahead of myself. My host thinks I am because her 6 years of NGO experience in this area says that it's wise to listen, but not hope for too much. I shan't hold my breath then.
What else happened today? Oh yes, I saw 2 motor bikes crash into one another (thankfully, no-one was hurt and it couldn't have been more comical: I mean, it couldn't have been engineered any better), a man dressed up as a woman (a pretty one at that) and I saw a chicken get slaughtered as I sat in the courtyard of my host house (it's ok, I knew it was going to happen because the chicken sat next to me in the rickshaw taxi on the way home and was bought in my honour, somehow making it alright!?!).
Life goes on in Pakistan, slowly, but surely. I hope all's well at your end, too x
Friday 19 September 2008
I'm like the Secret Millionaire, only I'm just a Thousandaire
I had a refreshing sleep last night so I was ready to hit the bank and see what I can do with this money I was carrying around. A grand doesn't seem like a lot to us, but when it translates into 100,000 rupees, you kinda need to be careful. So, in true Western "don't trust the brown man" style I had the money and my ID strapped so tight to my body with a body wallet that I could barely breathe. But, at least my riches were unnoticed ... until this is, I arrived at the bank and actually had to fish in my baggy shalwaar trousers for the goods. Not good when the bank security in Pakistan is a man with some rather large rifle, probably no training, walking around, bored. Now, as you can imagine, most of the worforce in Pakistan is male so rooting around in my pants to find the damn ID card was not very pleasant. Then, giving my title as Dr Khan completely confused the bank manager who was dealing with my case.
After signing 7 times - and I only completed 2 forms - I handed over my pennies and he then explained that I'd not get an ATM card or cheque book for 1 week!! Freak out time - I was under the impression that I'd get access to my money immediately so handing him ALL my money wasn't a good move. Anyway, once I got over the "shit, now what?" moment, the bank manager saab simply asked how much I thought I'd need for the week and I threw a random figure of 10,000 rupees (syeah, right - Brewster's millions springs to mind!). He simply reached into a draw and pulled out requested figure and said in true Goodness Gracious Me stylie ''you don't worry". No receipt, no log of this exchange, no nothing! Back home, even if my father was the bank manager, he couldn't do this!! Of course, I took the money and ran, but blimey, what the f*** was that!
I was later told that, other than the fact that I had just deposited a rather large amount of money which showed I'm good to return the money (how did he know it's real?), it's because he knows a friend of a friend of the girl I'm staying with!! Again, WTF!
Anyway, once I got over that incident, the money from which I re deposited awkwardly in my pants again (clearly, a glutton for punishment), we visited Muzafarrabad city for some grocery shopping. I also got a good tour of the city which showed off a couple of tent dwellings, damage and gave a good view of the landslides that happened.
The city has actually, for the most part been rebuilt and was, according to my host, up and running. This confirmed my earlier thoughts of help perhaps needing to be more latent or remote than the structure of the city suggested. In terms of the work I'm here to do, it's quite hard to know where the needs are for these reasons. In addition, this area is likely to experience another quake much like the one of 2005 – the villagers often explain that they have aftershocks and tremors leading to believe this prediction to be highly likely. It also begs the question of where to target support: on structural issues eg more water pipes in remoter villages where water is only obtainable from a springs a fair walk away or on skills that if another quake happened, survivors are more likely to build their lives outside of the poverty trap. Charity work seems to work on greatest need and maximum return, but this principle does not help me much. So, any theoretical thoughts about what you'd do would be most welcome.
Hope you're fab, too x
Ps Couldn't end the entry on such a serious note: A more fun note was that a snake about 1.5m long entered one of the neighbouring shelters which caused some uproar. Stupidly or bravely, I got well in there to see it, but apparently, it coiled up in the sofa. Once the local kids found out, they literally hit to sheds the furniture and eventually found and killed the snake. Nice!
After signing 7 times - and I only completed 2 forms - I handed over my pennies and he then explained that I'd not get an ATM card or cheque book for 1 week!! Freak out time - I was under the impression that I'd get access to my money immediately so handing him ALL my money wasn't a good move. Anyway, once I got over the "shit, now what?" moment, the bank manager saab simply asked how much I thought I'd need for the week and I threw a random figure of 10,000 rupees (syeah, right - Brewster's millions springs to mind!). He simply reached into a draw and pulled out requested figure and said in true Goodness Gracious Me stylie ''you don't worry". No receipt, no log of this exchange, no nothing! Back home, even if my father was the bank manager, he couldn't do this!! Of course, I took the money and ran, but blimey, what the f*** was that!
I was later told that, other than the fact that I had just deposited a rather large amount of money which showed I'm good to return the money (how did he know it's real?), it's because he knows a friend of a friend of the girl I'm staying with!! Again, WTF!
Anyway, once I got over that incident, the money from which I re deposited awkwardly in my pants again (clearly, a glutton for punishment), we visited Muzafarrabad city for some grocery shopping. I also got a good tour of the city which showed off a couple of tent dwellings, damage and gave a good view of the landslides that happened.
The city has actually, for the most part been rebuilt and was, according to my host, up and running. This confirmed my earlier thoughts of help perhaps needing to be more latent or remote than the structure of the city suggested. In terms of the work I'm here to do, it's quite hard to know where the needs are for these reasons. In addition, this area is likely to experience another quake much like the one of 2005 – the villagers often explain that they have aftershocks and tremors leading to believe this prediction to be highly likely. It also begs the question of where to target support: on structural issues eg more water pipes in remoter villages where water is only obtainable from a springs a fair walk away or on skills that if another quake happened, survivors are more likely to build their lives outside of the poverty trap. Charity work seems to work on greatest need and maximum return, but this principle does not help me much. So, any theoretical thoughts about what you'd do would be most welcome.
Hope you're fab, too x
Ps Couldn't end the entry on such a serious note: A more fun note was that a snake about 1.5m long entered one of the neighbouring shelters which caused some uproar. Stupidly or bravely, I got well in there to see it, but apparently, it coiled up in the sofa. Once the local kids found out, they literally hit to sheds the furniture and eventually found and killed the snake. Nice!
Thursday 18 September 2008
Not sleeping in 30 hours is not fun
Dear God! I really don't remember anyone's names! So bad, but hey, thank God for that apology yesterday. I was wrecked this morning so I did not go into town to sort out all those things I wanted to do (open up a bank account, get phone credit, bottled water, check the city out etc), but I managed to do some knitting (that blanket is well traveled!), practise my urdu, walk around the village and generally laze about, including doing some sun-bathing (topped up that Ibizan tan, but only on my feet and face – the rest of me is covered in apparently very unfashionable Pakistani attire!). Despite the lack of productivity, I feel better for resting. Tomorrow, I hit the bank and somehow begin my search for where the greatest need(s) is/are!
Hope all is well with you x
Hope all is well with you x
Wednesday 17 September 2008
I arrive after a sleepless night travelling...
After an embarrassingly tearful wait at LHR (which incidently, my brother handled very well), I departed London on a plane seat between 2 uncle-jis, who, thankfully, acknowledged my existence, though forcefully trying to make me use a shoulder to sleep against was a bit too familiar, even for my liking! Still, if he were the man of my dreams, that gesture would have been viewed very differently!
After I eventually got my baggage, I was met, as promised by my contact lady … AND half her village, it seemed!! She had 2 car loads of people accompanying her from her village 6 hours drive away that I felt very special indeed – completely unnecessary, but very appreciated. So, in my pigeon urdu and their limited English, off we set, stopping at Abbottabad to see my charity boss's brother-in-law, as well as randomly in a pine forest for a rest. Dictionary using aside to keep the conversation going, it was an amazing ride. From busy city streets to roads hugging the mountainside, I didn't know where to look. As the view became more hilly (and the roads insanely rubbly), it was clear that we were getting closer to Muzafarrabad.
The city is situated in a valley and given it's almost 1m inhabitants, it was surprisingly small, albeit somewhat sprawling. My initial impression was that Muzafarabad did not seem so ruined, but as we wound down the mountain, I realised how wrong I was! The main road in had a repaired split down the middle; there were still piles of rubble everywhere; people were living in semi-permanent homes or still in tents; the biggest evidence of this awful event, however, for me, was the clear land sliding that had happened on the sides of the enclosing mountains – smooth walls of rock existed alongside otherwise jagged rock face. From the shere volume of rock that must have slipped into the city, you really did not want to be there. Therefore, what I noticed from above was simply patchwork conducted by the charity organizations that have now left the city.
The village I am staying in, Dhanni Mie Sahiba, is literally next door to the city, across the Neelum river and was described to me as one of the worst hit places of all. It exists on what appears to be a large hill top now about 3/4 the original surface area because the earthquake caused massive land slides, taking with it the houses, shops, people walking etc. And destroying the bridge linking it to the main city across the river. So, for a while there had no easy to the city. A wooden slat bridge was made for people to cross, but wore away very quickly, but only after (thankfully) the cable car was installed to take bigger things across. As the wooden bridge is no longer in use (only through choice because the river beneath runs with such a strong force), we accessed the village with the cable car. It seems disrespectful to say the view as we traversed the river were stunning, but they truly were. They were just as beautiful from the village, but somehow easily missed because of the living situation some people were in. I don’t think I saw a single fully formed home. At least, thanks to KYDS Trust, they have had free, fresh running water only in the last year or so.
The villagers were so pleased to have a KYDS Trust representative stay with them that were was a welcome party as I descended the cable car and my host's entire family greeted me. All 22 of them!! Given my crap memory for faces and names, I apologised in advance for not remembering their names and smiles loads. They recognised my need to rest, wash, eat and then sleep so I suspect the real fun will begin tomorrow.
A big shout-out to all of you who texted me to wish me well – you'll make missing home that bit more delayed! I will try to complete a daily log, but this depends on access. Hope all is well with you x
After I eventually got my baggage, I was met, as promised by my contact lady … AND half her village, it seemed!! She had 2 car loads of people accompanying her from her village 6 hours drive away that I felt very special indeed – completely unnecessary, but very appreciated. So, in my pigeon urdu and their limited English, off we set, stopping at Abbottabad to see my charity boss's brother-in-law, as well as randomly in a pine forest for a rest. Dictionary using aside to keep the conversation going, it was an amazing ride. From busy city streets to roads hugging the mountainside, I didn't know where to look. As the view became more hilly (and the roads insanely rubbly), it was clear that we were getting closer to Muzafarrabad.
The city is situated in a valley and given it's almost 1m inhabitants, it was surprisingly small, albeit somewhat sprawling. My initial impression was that Muzafarabad did not seem so ruined, but as we wound down the mountain, I realised how wrong I was! The main road in had a repaired split down the middle; there were still piles of rubble everywhere; people were living in semi-permanent homes or still in tents; the biggest evidence of this awful event, however, for me, was the clear land sliding that had happened on the sides of the enclosing mountains – smooth walls of rock existed alongside otherwise jagged rock face. From the shere volume of rock that must have slipped into the city, you really did not want to be there. Therefore, what I noticed from above was simply patchwork conducted by the charity organizations that have now left the city.
The village I am staying in, Dhanni Mie Sahiba, is literally next door to the city, across the Neelum river and was described to me as one of the worst hit places of all. It exists on what appears to be a large hill top now about 3/4 the original surface area because the earthquake caused massive land slides, taking with it the houses, shops, people walking etc. And destroying the bridge linking it to the main city across the river. So, for a while there had no easy to the city. A wooden slat bridge was made for people to cross, but wore away very quickly, but only after (thankfully) the cable car was installed to take bigger things across. As the wooden bridge is no longer in use (only through choice because the river beneath runs with such a strong force), we accessed the village with the cable car. It seems disrespectful to say the view as we traversed the river were stunning, but they truly were. They were just as beautiful from the village, but somehow easily missed because of the living situation some people were in. I don’t think I saw a single fully formed home. At least, thanks to KYDS Trust, they have had free, fresh running water only in the last year or so.
The villagers were so pleased to have a KYDS Trust representative stay with them that were was a welcome party as I descended the cable car and my host's entire family greeted me. All 22 of them!! Given my crap memory for faces and names, I apologised in advance for not remembering their names and smiles loads. They recognised my need to rest, wash, eat and then sleep so I suspect the real fun will begin tomorrow.
A big shout-out to all of you who texted me to wish me well – you'll make missing home that bit more delayed! I will try to complete a daily log, but this depends on access. Hope all is well with you x
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