Eiszeit and Christmas Ball

Overnight the temperatures dropped, letting the leaves on the ground now glitter with a rim of white frost in the early morning hours. The guards put on their gloves and woolen hats and try to stay warm during the night with small fires, that give a cozy light, but a strong smell of burning wood throughout the Enclave.

And along with the quick and dramatic drop of temperatures plunges also the crucial relationship of Pakistan to a new freezing level. The boycott by Pakistan of the Afghanistan Conference in Bonn, followed by an attack of Pakistani terrorists on Afghanistan soil, claiming more than fifty victims, does not help to secure the solidarity of the international community.  The closing of all NATO supply routes through Pakistan in the aftermath of the tragic Mohmand incident leaves the port of Karachi clogged not only with supplies for NATO, but with commercial goods meant to be delivered throughout the country as well, many of them perishable.
The government calls back more than twenty of its Ambassadors for consultations over the current crises. According to the media, they urge the government to immediately reopen the supply routes, arguing that the country's foreign policy should be based on strategy, not sentiments.

A coffee with friends last Friday, still warm enough to sit outside at Kohsar Market, and a young Senator passes by with pale face and serious look in a hurry, on the way to the Assembly, "trying to safe Democracy", as she says. It is the same place where Salman Taseer, the Governor of Punjab, was murdered a year ago, and politicians like her still represent the resilience and hope for the country.

Better not to rely on the political situation for a festive and peaceful atmosphere in this time of the year, the holiday season. My plan to organize a Christmas Ball - originating for a dance - takes shape and is met to my big surprise by enthusiasm not only among diplomatic friends, but particularly among the Pakistani invitees as well.
The challenge of finding the right accessories for creating a Christmas atmosphere in a country that calls itself "Islamic Republic" is luckily met by great support from the local staff helping me find solutions for whatever idea I come up with! Large twigs of conifers, pines, boxwood, every greenery that I find in the garden and Margallah hills are brought and tied into impressive garlands and wreaths, tirelessly, by the gardeners enjoying the last warming sun rays in the courtyard. A mountain of pine cones is distributed in every room of the house.

A browse through the romantic tiny ribbon shops with their endless choice of ribbons in every shape, size and colour, but just not in plain red and required size, let me finally buy twenty meters of red fabric and cut it into stripes - voila, the decoration for the garlands! In a garden furniture shop I find rustic lanterns and rent their whole stock - only to find out later that finding candles will be the next challenge.

It takes a whole day trip to Rawalpindi through the markets to find the candle manufacturer - unfortunately too late to have them made to order (that can be done!) we take whatever suits best in size and have them carried back through all the angles and corners of the closely crowded shops to the car.

My friends from the Wild Gang help tying lady garlands with greenery and red roses for the ball, drinking hot chocolate with Kirsch and tasting and commenting politely each others Christmas cookies - we are still friends!

The chefs heat the ovens and start their work, all candles lit, musicians on their pillows tune their instruments and only snow is missing...

                                                         Merry Christmas!

Bazaars, Bazaars of Many Kind...

December is bazaar season - here in Islamabad as in other parts of the world. Women are baking cookies and cakes for the German bazaar, glühwein and beer is being served, along with Thüringer Schweinsbratwurst. Dresdner Weihnachtsstollen is also very much in demand. A cardboard snowmen, a cardboard Christmas tree, a wreath bring a certain reminder of Christmas mood in Germany at this time of the year.

The British "Mela" gives us the opportunity to buy lemon curd, orange marmalade and Christmas pudding, again made by women, now by the British community, and lots of local artworks and handycraft - with an additional charge on the price for a good cause and for having foreigners buy all those products.

The women of the ISI (Inter-Services Intelligence) give another interesting perspective of possible bazaar activities. No cell phones or photo cameras allowed (since the event takes place on the premises of the ISI), we are directed into a big room with curtains that don't allow either a view out- or inside and are waiting for the dignitary women to be greeted, who arrive an  hour later and signal the opening of the tea buffet of samosas and well, tea. Then we are guided into another big hall with many elaborate handycrafts by Pakistani women to be sold. Some very driven buyers won't wait out the suggested round to have a view for everyone on all the bed covers, pillows and place mats and reserve immediately what their eyes spot as an object to be bought.

Swiss Food Day brings chocolates, cheese in all varieties, cakes, muffins and Bündner Nusstorte, surprisingly baked by Swiss women this time, Swiss wine and beer that delight not only the few local Swiss and expatriates from western countries, but many Pakistanis alike! A gathering of different generations and various nationalities, all spread out and sitting in the garden and on the grass: a late summer day, so peaceful the atmosphere.

Many, many in need of support. The only challenge is which one to choose among the institutions to help with donations.


Then there is another kind of Bazaar taking place - leading the country on an increasingly difficult ground with little hope for a change for the better. An eye on upcoming election campaigns by involved parties bring an additional element of unpredictability and bold statements that are difficult to evaluate in their meaning. The surprising appearance of  a "memo", written and handed over to the then Chairman of the U.S. Joint Chief of Staffs, Admiral Mike Mullen, right after the OBL raid in Abottabad in May of this year, leaves still everyone in wonder about its origin, intention, meaning and consequences. One of the consequences is the appointment of a new Ambassador to the USA, Sherry Rehman, one of Pakistan's most recognised female politicians, known for her courage to stand up for human rights, media freedom and against honor killings... besides apparently being very glamorous!

Last week's NATO Air strike that killed 24 Pakistani soldiers by mistake dominates the headlines and discussions these days - still much remains unclear by now, but leading the country into an ever more confrontational mood. The boycott of the Afghanistan Conference in Bonn this week is only one of the resulting decisions of the government, renegotiation of all existing anti-terror cooperation agreements with the United States another one.



And I take up running again - in the Diplomatic Enclave - the temperatures allowing long sleeves now! Running in the early crisp hours of the day I got used to the security and military posts along the way - and they to me. Kind nods greet me when passing them by now.
The Enclave has an interesting mix of architecture representing many different countries and security systems - walls in all varieties and heights. The next residence soon to be finished is the Moroccan one in a Moorish style with walls in a new record height.
Behind the barbed wire fence I see a few local houses bundled together and a bunch of boys happily playing, waving at me and shouting: "Hi, how are you?" The American Embassy is close by.
The view so focused on the constant flow of news in newspapers, in talks and on TV (the only English spoken Pakistani News channel shut down this week) now gazing into the distance and wandering with the mind freely. The softly filtered sunlight of autumn shines over the Margallah hills and on the morning dew on the open fields, giving them a silvery shimmer.

Hearing the muezzin calling for prayer at a nearby Mosque I pass a small house "Diplomatic Protection Department", abandoned and from a different era that speaks of how much  has changed here...

New Hope! Last Hope? Or no Hope??

Book launch for Imran Khan's new book "Pakistan" in a packed room at the "Marriott" and the air is vibrating from expectations. A tall and athletic man in his late fifties enters the room shaking all hands within reach. This former captain of Pakistan's cricket team is surrounded by a charismatic aura. He is considered by many as the rising political star and has an increasing number of followers among the young generation and in the business community. His political experience is limited, but he is perceived by friends and foes as an honest man.
He is dressed in his signature shalwar kameez with gilet. Calm and self confident, his short speech about Pakistan is more a recollection of things said many times before: America should have treated Osama Bin Laden and his followers as common criminals and not as Islamic fighters. His mission is cleaning up the corruption that destroys the morality of the Pakistani society and the state as a whole. "We allowed the criminals to govern the country and lead us into darkness" - he criticizes the current government being busy in looting, plundering and misleading their fellow countrymen.

But the real surprise follows when retired Air Marshall Asghar Khan takes the floor and tells the audience, that "while Pakistan has attacked India four times, India has never been the aggressor  in any of the wars fought between these two nations". He is a highly respected former military leader, incredibly alert at the age of 92 and apparently a supporter of great weight of Imran Khan. Air Commodore (retired) Sajad Haider will confirm this statement the next day in the newspaper: "The Nation was told the enemy is invading, when actually it was our leadership who led the nation into disgrace to keep megalomaniacs in the chair."



A week later I meet people in Lahore, the city where Imran Khan's show two days before had rallied and electrified an impressive crowd of over two hundred thousand. Most of the 18-35 years old (30% of Pakistan's population) were mobilized by means of  social media. These people are talking about new hope with that glow in their eyes, others with a kind of desperation about the state of their country considering him being the last hope for change in Pakistan.
But many have questions about the kind of change he would be able to bring, whether he would be able to fight the militants and point at some contradictions in his speeches. He himself is speaking of a Tsunami that will bring him to power - interesting months ahead!

Success - finally - for a bill that passed the National Assembly providing severe punishment for "anti-women" practices! It addresses forced marriages for settling disputes, depriving women of their inheritance and forced marriages in general with imprisonment up to five years and substantial fines.

The four day trip to Lahore, a very lively and wonderful city, offers invitations to sumptuous and leisurely garden lunches. Every dish a delight with different curries, meat plates of any sort, grilled and steamed and cooked, broiled and simmered, mutton, beef, chicken and fish, lentils and vegetables, such a variety now to be found locally grown! Beautiful silk shalwar kameezes in bright colours, shawls playfully arranged around shoulders and necks, an inimitable atmosphere so amicable and intimate among women. Yes, among women. Hard to break the custom of divided genders at lunches and dinners, but with great warmth and understanding among the respective groups. Whenever I pretend not to have seen those invisible barriers and head right for the men's group I am met with welcoming surprise and kind amusement and everyone assures me, that there would be actually no such demarcation line...

On the five hours drive home from Lahore a break at a farm with an invitation for a ride in the fertile plain of Punjab - to be told after an other rich meal with a variety of meat plates, that the horses had been brought to Lahore for Polo training during the winter months and the offer for a camel ride instead. Shaky and high above the ground and the saddle a box meant for transporting agricultural goods, but covered nicely with slippery silk fabric. Peacocks, flamingos, dogs and small bridges to cross add another portion of unpredictable excitement for an already adventurous tour in the garden. I made it safely and gladly back to the ground...

Women of Different Walks of Life

I come across a woman, silent, no voice, no face visible, no body contour; the Burqa hiding nearly all personal expression. Only two dark eyes that immediately shy away as I look at her, leaving me to guess about her personality by the way she is walking and the shoes she is wearing. But shoes can reveal astonishing things! Flashes of most sophisticated high heels in bright green snake skin show below a black Burqa at Islamabad's airport, the hands of the totally veiled woman painted elaborately with henna and the young man who accompanies her in Jeans and Versace shirt - obviously a newly wedded couple. I wonder where they might be heading for their honeymoon.

Women with such an outfit can be seen on the market, of course always accompanied. Then there are those who live in Purdah, totally concealed from being seen by men, leaving their home only to be married and moved to the parents-in-laws house. One could only meet them at their home, and only being a woman as well.

The death of Nusrat Bhutto last week, wife of late president Zulfikar Ali Bhutto and mother of Benazir Bhutto has brought back to public attention the life of a remarkable and strong woman, closely linked to the history of Pakistan.

The extraordinary range of qualities attributed to her seem at first a far stretch for a single woman. But following her life story not only through news articles, but testimonies by her friends, reveal an outstanding personality and exceptional life. Born to a Kurdish Iranian immigrant family, she completed senior Cambridge exams in Bombay, but refused to go to college, because her grandfather insisted she would have to wear a Burqa. "Women here in Pakistan are treated like pieces of furniture", she said in an interview in 1975, "we are human beings and should be heard."

She married Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, was instrumental in founding the now ruling Pakistan People's Party (PPP), held at some point a cabinet position, fought for her husband's release after his imprisonment by General Ziaul Haq and stayed in Pakistan after his execution. The regime even denied her attending his funeral.  She formed the Movement for the Restoration of Democracy within the PPP and stood up against the military ruler Ziaul Haq, enduring imprisonment herself. She tragically lost two sons and daughter Benazir and saw her family split in two in the struggles and fights for political power. 

Recent reports of a planned kidnapping of her grandson Bilawal Bhutto Zardari by TTP (Tehreek-e-Taliban) and al Qaeda, could not reach her anymore.

But she also gained reputation as a fashion icon and symbol of style and grace - not only during her time as First Lady of Pakistan - intriguingly fusing western chic with eastern traditional attire and I see every one's eyes light up when I ask about her.

More news about women - I am a woman after all! - following the closely watched visit of US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton here in Islamabad. 

At the press conference at the end of the talks, a young journalist who identified herself as Shamama, addressed Hillary Clinton: "We all know that the whole of Pakistan is facing the brunt of whatever is happening and trying to cooperate with the US, and somehow the US is like a mother-in-law which is just not satisfied with us. We are trying to please you, and every time you come and visit us you have a new idea and tell us, 'You are not doing enough and need to work harder'" - she got a big round of applause and laughter, from the audience as well as from the Secretary of State.

Next day's headline in the Express Tribune: 'MOTHER-IN-LAW' IN TOWN - with a great photo of the two ladies with the concurring age difference! This episode including the reaction by Hillary Clinton contributed to a more upbeat outcome of that visit giving it a personal and human touch.

On the way to Sri Lanka for a few days of vacation and on board of an airplane of PIA (Pakistan International Airways) to Karachi we hear none of the usual music tunes intended to calm the potentially nervous passengers before a flight. Instead, just before take off, a sonorous voice calmly recites prayers. No presentation of all the usual life saving gadgets such as life vest or oxygen mask. The prayers will do the trick, I hope.

Shortly before landing, still surprisingly calmly strapped to my seat, I listen to the pilot's voice, announcing our landing - "… in ten minutes, Inshallah!" - now really rising my concerns about a safe landing. Steep dive and I am again on safe ground, hurray!

Karachi airport offers an odd look at hundred's of men in all shapes and sizes wrapped in nothing but a single large white bath towel - they are on their way to Mecca, I hear. Hardly any luggage visible and since it would be hard to hide anything under these circumstances, I assume that this is their whole set of clothes for the trip. Interesting perspective - I will certainly follow up on that. Maybe some good tips for my own packing?

Schoolday for Girls

An invitation to inaugurate a girls college in the vicinity of Islamabad brings us with a drive of a few miles into the rural area and a different world. We are faced with great generosity and commitment on the one side and ever growing difficulties in the education system of Pakistan on the other side.

On the way to the school through the suburbs of Islamabad we see hardly any women on the streets and markets and the few we spot are tightly veiled. I put on my sunglasses, to avoid the stares of men even through the tinted windows of the car.

We arrive at the school which started as an elementary school for girls seven years ago. A shelter for women was added two years later and now college education was about to being offered, all funded by a Swiss of Pakistani origin with the help of several supporters from Switzerland and Pakistan.

The two main gates are inaccessible since four days,  blocked by neighbours (who sold the properties to the school) asking now for more money after all seemed to be paid for and settled. The legal outcome is uncertain, we are told, and this not because of an unclear legal situation. One of many obstacles the school faces.

The school collects no fees and provides also food and lodging, shelter and security for many of them. An incredible diversity of family background and education is visible in the faces - and in the way the girls are dressed. Luckily, expressions of curiosity and joy are in the majority!

Pakistan has an estimated population growth of 2.1%, far higher than all countries in the region, four million children every year and the public school system is under growing stress, not only because of lack of money.

Last week a "moral brigade" of seminary students - sixty masked men carrying iron rods - attacked a girls school in the nearby city of Rawalpindi and thrashed and terrorised students and teachers, warning them to dress modestly and wear hijabs. The police refused to file a case against the identified  students, having been instructed by the "higher ups" to do so, according to news reports. An increasing climate of fear takes its toll on the liberal elite in the society.

A morning with no Internet access and a broken mobile phone (bought two months ago), million things that ask for my attention in and around the house, nothing getting done according to plan and just the gorgeous weather to be counted on as a delight. Fortunately an escape in the form of a lunch with my "Wild Gang" - we are testing restaurants for an Islamabad restaurant guide, which does not exist so far. After I initiated this project, we were joined by a friend and journalist who was the star in a TV cooking show and she brought her friends - a growing "staff" of young Pakistani journalists, lawyers who like to eat and write,... a very interesting mix of  Pakistani Yuppies!

So we head to our third round of testing to an Asian restaurant, being very limited in our choices by the security people who like to limit our movements with relentless reliability. We meet at the restaurant, the four of us sit at the table and the first alarm message arrives through sms - bomb blast at police station in F/10, followed by concerned phone calls by our husbands. No, we are safe and at the Marriott. We lean back, it's far enough not to be worried and start ordering half of the dishes offered on the menu - after all, we are here to test!

You might figure out the name of the restaurant!! (It starts with a "B"...) We are hesitant to order dessert, because we do not feel an urge for more food after the numerous main dishes we tested. We decide to order one dessert, shared on four plates, but are being served four generous portions of Nougat Praline, the speciality of the house, after the General Manager paid a short visit to welcome us as the only four guests for today's lunch at the restaurant - it's Friday. Thanks to one of our "Gang"  - carrying here an elegant version of a wine crate, we enjoyed our own upgraded version of a lunch.

Waiting for our drivers to be brought back to safety, one of my "Wild Gang" friends makes a courageous remark that we will keep secret from her husband and her security team: "Mark my words! One day I will walk home from Hotel Serena to my residence! What can happen between me, the Serena and the residence! It's a two minute walk! Come on! Girls!!"

Back in the Heat

Leaving just before midnight from an unusually tranquil JFK airport in NY on 9/11, I arrive in the thick heat of Islamabad at 3 o'clock in the morning two days later - hundreds of men mainly in white shalwar kameez, caps and beards are standing outside the entrance hall, waiting, watching. Heavy, sweet odour penetrates immediately all pores. Back in the intensity of smells and colours, light and darkness, bright sun and sparkling stars!

All the news hitting me the next days let me wonder if the situation actually got worse over the month of August since I left or if I am just no longer used to the constant stream of bad news.

Floods again in Sindh in the South of the country with hundreds of thousands of people losing their homes, livestock and earnings for a uncertain period of time; more than five hundred lost their lives. Over five million people are living in tents. Not enough, cholera and other diseases are spreading fast and there is little help in sight. "Donor fatigue"is the word of the day, explained by so many disasters around the globe and a lack of trust.

Rapid spread of dengue fever in the Punjab, Lahore being the center of the outbreak. More than ten thousand people are affected, over a hundred died so far and the government finally sets up field hospitals to take care of the sick persons. Rumors have it, that passenger buses have been spreading the infected mosquitoes in the province undetected - having escaped the fumigation process that started much too late this year.

Flyers in newspapers give advice on how to avoid mosquito bites and a company named "Black Horse International" praises its ability to rid you of cockroaches, termites, snakes and lizards, rodents and mice, mosquitoes of course  - all with fumigation! Providing a "healthy and safe environment" with a picture of  a man well protected in his space suit with a huge fumigator...   and my love for horses winces over the name of the company - their logo a gallopping black stallion!

The hideous murder of Burhanuddin Rabbani, head of the Afghan High Peace Council, in Kabul affects badly the peace process in Afghanistan and the alleged links with the Haqqani network, the recent attack on the American Embassy and ISAF in Kabul, not good news. Not a complete list, but I stop here.

The diversity and complexity of Pakistan's society is apparent on every social occasion. At a dinner last week I sat between a young editor of school books to the left, who had to stand a fight with the board of an elementary school who wanted a chapter of a book removed because the title "The Father dances with the Mother" seemed improper, apparently, for some conservative muslim parents, and a young politician of the Muslim Party, son of a former President of Pakistan, to the right - suspense at the table.

We go on with our daily life, shopping for food is part of  that and gives more pleasure, looking at the new fruits and vegetables coming into season now. First spots of orange appear on the shelves between the familiar greens and sweet tiny lemons and limes with that tantalizing citrus aroma. Grapefruits as sweet and juicy as refreshing, tingling lips and tongue with their own unique mixture of underlying sour tone and hint of bitterness, just enough to enhance the warmth and sweetness! The rose color of their flesh tempting for immediate bites.

Going to the butcher means a dive into the underground - that's the place to buy the best meat in Isloo! The way leading downstairs won't look very promising to a shopper used to buy at Bell, Lobel's or Agata & Valentina, but the steaks are decent, cut, sawed and hacked fresh on the marble counter. Fresh meat smells heavy and sweet; it stays with you for the rest of the day - I usually turn vegetarian for the next 24 hours.

On the way home I leave a pair of shoes with a shoemaker to get the heals repaired. Hammer and nails and little more working material neatly arranged on the floor. He locks my shoes in a small wooden box and promises the work will be done the next day. I wonder whether I will ever see him - and my shoes - again.
But there he is in lotus seat and looking like Mahatma Gandhi, opens the wooden box and pulls out the perfectly repaired shoes for 80 Rupies (90 cts.), letting me marvel how he did it - contemplating power or a magic wooden box??

Lazy Day in Bani Gala

Not much luck with our travel plans in Pakistan at the moment: The trip to Shanduur in the North to the oldest Polo Festival, which apparently was invented there and then refined by a British named Polo in the 19th century had to be canceled because of security concerns. Karachi with its killings of more than one hundred people within three days does not seem to be the perfect vacation spot either.

An invitation to spend a day with an incredibly charming journalist and her equally successful friend at her beautiful country estate in Bani Gala (a settlement on the Western bank of Rawal Lake) brings a welcomed change to the hot streets of Islamabad - and an interesting conversation about life of single women in Pakistan. No desire to get married and both in their forties, they find it difficult to be in a relationship with a man without legal status. The Pakistani society does not accept that. 

Even today, most of the marriages are arranged by the parents, preferably within the larger family (more than 60% and 80% of them between first cousins) and it appears to be accepted across all social groups. Marriage is seen more as a union of two families rather than simply between two individuals.

One wonders though about the many wonderful poetic tales, many dating back to ancient times, speaking of tragic love, broken hearts and chosen death over promised marriages...

But due to their age and career achievements, these two women I spend the day with in Bani Gala have an accepted position in society and feel happy not having to depend on a man. Being financially independent, living in the city and being part of the elite of the society, they enjoy a wide range of freedom, although not quite comparable to women in Western societies. The family and relatives will also set some limits. These ties are very powerful and most single women live with their relatives - luckily, families are very big, so there is no shortage of relatives to live with. The closely knitted and large family net is considered a blessing and the limits it sets to ones personal life are generally accepted. Kinship is the most important force in the Pakistani society and it is also reflected in the political system of the country.

The way of a woman's life varies dramatically,  depending on where she lives, on religion, social and economical standing, education and knowledge.  

Easy availability of staff (cook, housekeeper, babysitter, driver, gardener), makes it possible for women to pursue a career and have a family at the same time, raising often three or more children.

Hina Rabbani Khar was sworn in as the new Foreign Minister of Pakistan this week. At the age of 34 she is not only the youngest but also the first woman to hold this position. She is articulate and well educated and holds a postgraduate degree from the University of Massachussetts. She followed in the footsteps of her father, who had to abandon his political career when in 2002 a new law required election candidates to hold a college degree, which he did not have. Her family's political influence in the area, her father being a big landowner in Punjab province, helped or probably enabled her fast raise to political power. The influence and power of some families is broadly accepted. She is also considered and promoted as a fresh look, young and photogenic as she is, as a softer image of Pakistan abroad. The elements of her political career are very typical for the country. 

Heading back to Islamabad I pass through the village and discover some useful places.

Should you run out of time, patience or ideas, here is the perfect caterer to contact: "Service of Gulam Abbassy - offering Punjabi meals or any kind of food, to be ordered for special occasions! If you want to have other kind of arrangements, like music or meetings, it can be organized as well. Telephone number 0092 344 664 37 73."

Waiting for a cooler hour of the day to submit orders might be advisable!

The opening of a new pool billiard room brings new pleasures for passing the time - for men only, but after my Pakistani friend kindly asked, we are allowed to enter for a moment and even take a picture. The heat allows limited activities only and this is a perfect way of spending time pleasurably. Men seem to have a very playful side - on the way home I pass a playground in full action with no child, but with many happy men on the swings and rocking horses!

Unfortunately there is no more time for taking the measures for a dress made on the spot by the local tailor - next time...

I am leaving Pakistan for a longer summer break and will be back with new posts in September - have a wonderful summer!

Starving Buddha In Peshawar

As my own freedom of movement is rather limited, I have become an increasingly grateful "personne accompagnante" in the true sense of the word - taking advantage of official and professional visits  that offer me the required protection. Eager to see whatever is possible in this country and happy to be able to do so under the current circumstances.

A visit to the Governor of Khyber Pakhtunkhwa (formerly called "North West Frontier Province") in Peshawar allows me one of these trips, that otherwise would be impossible.

Entering the city by car from Islamabad, some interesting shops frame the roadside - as unusual as it seems to me, the sight of stores that sell arms and explosives, does not seem any more special to the locals than the car supplies warehouse or household utilities shop on the same street.

The tight Hotel's security measures that include screening of all luggage 100 yards away from the Hotel entrance seem perfectly logical to me, realizing only then how one gets used to the strangest circumstances.

Of course, I don't get permission to visit the old town - after being tempted by narratives how wonderful the market is, oldest city of skilled copper and silversmiths, a trading center of semi precious stones, emerald mines in the region,...  No, I head to the tiny Hotel shop instead, that, I am told, is brand new and absolutely worth a visit!

A look at the bookshelves offers an interesting choice - no books about the beauties of the city or nature of this area, hiking trails, museums or  landmarks. Not even toothbrush or shampoo. No - books of totally different topics:

Still, the young shopkeeper, who offers to bring anything from his father's main shop to the Hotel, really anything that I would be interested in, has a beautiful fertility figure among his small collection of beads. That's it, nothing else. Needless to say that I opened my purse without hesitation to buy it - broken and repaired with non matching parts of another figure, but surprisingly touching in its frailty and expression!

The sight of a lovely swimming pool in the middle of the patio lets me regret that I forgot my bathing suit - for a moment, only until I realize it would be of little use. Unless I had a burkini (I leave it to your imagination what this dress for swimming purposes looks like). No sight of men in bathing suits - i.e. knickerbockers - either.

The Peshawar Museum -  the former British Officer's Ball house -  has a unique collection of Gandhara figures and reliefs from various sights within Pakistan's ancient Peshawar valley in today's Khyber Pakhtunkhwa province. Gandhara - a civilisation under many different rulers (Alexander the Great one of them) from the 6th cent. BC to the year 1000 AC, Buddhism the main religion at the time.

Walking slowly with the curator of the museum through the first floor the story of Buddha's life unfolds, hammered in stone, until we reach the fasting Buddha. To overcome the cycle of birth and rebirth was his endeavor that he  tried to achieve by fasting over six years with nothing more than a single sesame seed or grain of rice per day as food. This sculpture survived in three pieces, but the serenity of the face, his eyes recessed and hollow, the veins subtly carved on the front, the ribcage barely covered by skin only, reminds strangely of figures of Christ dying on the cross dating back to the same period in churches and cathedrals throughout Europe.

Luckily, the enlightenment came, that ultimate wisdom can not be achieved by denying life and so Buddha ended his fasting at the last moment and continued his life journey.

 The museum, empty but for the staff, a Pakistani family and a handful of students, used to be one of the highlights for tourists. Now it is sadly silent and the curator tells us that they exchanged most of the light bulbs for our visit, as poor quality of the bulbs, the changing current of electricity and load shedding breaks them too easily and lets darkness fall into the showcases.

During dinner we get the news about another bomb blast with casualties - luckily not too close to our place.

Returning to Islamabad the next evening we learn about the abduction of a Swiss couple traveling through Baluchistan, heading towards Quetta. We will only know once they are hopefully free again, what made them choose this dangerous itinerary.

Hopefully more cheerful news to follow - for now I am just gliding in the warm water of the pool behind the white marble wall and a Lassi Drink - salty or sweet -  is waiting for me...

Karachi Boiling Hot

Karachi at 44°C and with supposedly 20 million inhabitants is a boiling city in more than one sense.  Upon arrival, we are welcomed by very caring men in uniform, who keep us constant company throughout our stay and give an immediate sense of the surprises that could be waiting here.
Passing the Mehran Air Base - the showplace of a bold attack only a month ago -  on the way to the city leaves no doubt as to how far and how close to the city the militants have come by now.

We visit a village where two Swiss private companies are donating several very simple houses and running drinking water supply to families, who survived last summer's heavy flooding with nothing more than their bare lives. The keys and properties are handed over to the women and mothers, after having made the experience, that men had sold their properties and the families had lost their home again. Women apparently hold on to their houses better.
In Pakistan 28% of all pregnancies are unwanted and 900 000 abortions are registered every year - contraceptives are not forbidden by the Koran but by many husbands and in-laws. There is incredible poverty and sadness, no sight of a school, medical care and hardly any food. Surviving is the only purpose of life at the time.
A miracle, that there are still children with a smile on their faces.

Koohi Goth Hospital - my next visit offers more hope for improvement! Our "Wild Gang" had organized a "High Tea" at the British High Commissioner's residence in early spring  and with the help of generous donors we were able to support the surgeries done at the Hospital for Fistula repair by providing medications and bandages. The surgeries are being done for free and a team of doctors performs them on Sundays.
What a joy to see some of these women, whose life and dignity has been given back to them! Proudly they are sitting in their tribal costumes or shalwar kameezes on their Hospital beds. The doctors speak of incredible strength and resilience they encounter in most of these women. Going back home and to their hard work immediately after the operations is all they want. The patients come from all provinces of Pakistan, speaking many different languages and dialects, some of them unknown to the doctors and nurses. Such a richness of culture, wherever I arrive in this country!
The biggest achievement of Dr. Shersha Syeed and his team is the school for midwives at the hospital, even going on to teach midwives to become teachers back home in their villages - starting at the root of the problem and trying to avoid fistulas altogether.



The Swiss Consul General set up a competition among local schools in Karachi to create a poster for the 720th anniversary of Switzerland, which will be commemorated on the 1st of August this year. Surprising results from students of a country so different and distant to ours!
One with the Swiss flag - a big white cross on red ground with the words written "order = power" on it - would probably not win the first price in Switzerland, but it does say a lot about daily life in this country.
Another student quotes from the late Swiss Psychiatrist Elisabeth Kübler-Ross - also on the Swiss flag:

"Learn to get in touch with the silence within yourself and know that everything in life has a purpose. There are no mistakes, no coincidences, all events are blessings given to us to learn from."


At the old British "Sindh Club"  (male members only!) we eat an incredibly delicious Pakistani dinner - fruity and hot spices and...  the mango season starts in Karachi!

Pakistan and Horses

Having been living for half a year in Islamabad, I am still wondering every day about the discoveries, perspectives and miracles of this kaleidoscope Pakistan. Its ever changing views and surprises are getting even  more difficult to understand the longer I am here! The country described in the newspapers is so very different from the way that I experience it every day.  How to bring together the noble and gentle Pakistanis with the deadly activities of so various terrorist groups? No overview possible on such a field for a newcomer like me.

The many shocking news these last weeks have amounted to a sense of despair among the Pakistanis. The only hope that remains after every single event is that this might finally be the wake-up call every one has been waiting for to make things move in another, more promising direction! The whole society is changing towards a more conservative and religious one with great consequences in every domain - be it schools, families, military or the social position of women.
The freedom of press in Pakistan allows a multitude of opinions being freely expressed - whatever the motivation or agenda behind it is! However, to guarantee the freedom of press the journalists are also in need of security. The recent killing of Syed Saleem Shahzad 10 days ago sadly proves that this is not the case yet.  To make things even worse, none of the police stations in the area where the murder occurred feels in charge of filing the murder report.
His widow with three young children is trying to survive on promises and no means to live on!

Still, there is enough fun to enjoy life here!
"Tent Pegging" Competition last Sunday in Islamabad - fierce riders on wonderfully saddled horses racing and trying to pierce a tiny tablet on the field with long spears. The team which succeeds in collecting most of the tiny tablets wins! Much fun to watch and to photograph - in fact they were so delighted about me taking pictures and I so lost in doing so, that I just missed being overrun by another team in full gallop.  And then they wanted me to mount several horses, the riders hoping this might bring some luck to their team... instead of tea "Energy Drinks" Pakistani style were served and I was about ready to compete as well after the second drink. Luckily the ballet slippers on my feet made me rethink and hold back!!

My "Wild Gang" (our Diplomatic group of trailing spouses!) is collecting the most amazing and interesting experiences in Asian SPA's - on my next blog...  but then again, next week I will be in Karachi!