Art of Living

An organization with the much promising name "Art of Living" is offering me via text message regular updates on their classes since my arrival in Islamabad. They include lessons on how to rejuvenate at their sanctuary at Banigala (moving now to an advance course!), a four day break with classes in mindfulness, dance party and breath and the latest invitation is to meet a healer. He is praised for having received his training in the USA and UK - just for those who thought it was about deeper Eastern understanding about the human being, Western knowledge seems to be a more convincing argument here. Or better book "The Art of living Happiness workshop"?? I will possibly try one of their offers to find out more about their practice of leading a life - or simply ask my predecessor, who was most probably a good customer of them and left her mobile number with me...

The Pakistanis' art of survival is truly impressive and tested in many ways daily - loadshedding being one of the biggest challenge in their personal and professional life. The constantly deteriorating energy supply situation in the country brings substantial parts of the economy, particularly the small and medium enterprises to a near stand still, makes the people having to cope with only ten out of twenty-four hours of electricity in Islamabad; in other cities and in rural areas even as little as four hours per day.
Generators for providing electricity during loadshedding hours are a luxury that only few can afford, leaving most of the people with no means to deal with the heat, without water supply due to shut down water pumps, no possibility to cook, no refrigerators, no gasoline for cars or public transport.

The two young guys who took over the project of our restaurant guide look exhausted and tired on the day of their press conference launching their website. The last days of work included the nights. With the little electricity available, the rechargeable batteries did not get the three hours of constantly streaming power needed to get recharged for the use of computers or light bulbs. We arrive at the National Press Club and pass the open seating area in the blazing heat of 45°C (113°F).

A sigh of relief when we are told that the press conference is to take place inside; we enter the hall - no electricity, no air conditioning, unbearably hot and we jump right off the sofa seats again, their woolen cushions retaining a furnace heat. At 4pm finally an hour of lightly buzzing air conditioners and the press gathering starts. Islamabad's restaurants can now be found on the internet on a new website, starting the next day.

A visit to my shoe maker and I open the door, hardly finding the door knob in the dim light, the small show room in near total darkness, just a flash light on the desk of the shop owner, who sits there in silence and patiently awaits the electricity coming back around 4pm - for one hour... He choses in the darkness some leather skins and carries them downstairs for me to have a look in the bright sunlight. I choose chocolate brown for some pillows to be made.

Bringing him as well my daughter's boots to be repaired, which she likes so much but were met with a critical look and shaking head by a Swiss shoemaker in Zurich - the repair needed would exceed the price of the shoes, I was told. The young Mr. Barismil however takes a careful look and tells me he would do the work for a truly modest amount. I ask, if he has had things that he cherished and would go to an extra length to preserve, no matter what the actual value would be. A long pause. No, Madam, he says, things are just things, they come and go. But you go such a long way for your daughter's shoes to be fixed because you love her, and that is what counts!