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