No Time To Breathe

Nawaz Sharif takes office as Prime Minister - it is his third attempt to govern the country and he appears a matured politician, having been twice dismissed from office before and having spent many years in exile. As the solemn swearing in ceremony takes place, General Musharaff, who had ousted, imprisoned and exiled him in a military coup ten years ago, sits only a few miles away in his villa confined to house-imprisonment. His destiny remains uncertain and his house well guarded - we circle in a wide range to reach friends living in his neighborhood.

President Asif Zardari addresses the joint session of National Assembly and Senate, emphasizing the smooth transition of power and the fact, that during the five year term of  his party's rule there has not been a single political prisoner, as Nawaz Shariff and he himself had to endure that experience earlier in life. He calls for an end to the politics of revenge and victimization in Pakistan.

The government starts with great sincerity that can be read on their faces, a budget to clear the circular debt that strangles the power sector, a small and professional committee to bring the ailing Pakistan International Airways back on track, a substantial injection in Pakistan Railways to revive the much needed transport capacity, a sentiment of cautious hope emerges.

Cautious hope, that has been shattered again so badly last night, as sectarian terrorists went on a bloody rampage in the capital of Belochistan, killing at least 28 people. Lashkar-e-Jhangvi claimed again credit for this attack, killing 14 female students by bombing the bus that was to bring them home from the one and only women's university in Quetta and then seizing parts of the hospital treating survivors of the attack. The fierce battle to gain control inside the hospital took the security forces six hours with many more casualties among their ranks, politicians and family members. Four suicide bombers blew themselves up in the hospital.

The new Chief Minister of this province bordering Afghanistan and Iran, Dr. Abdul Malik Baloch, is the first to emerge from the educated middle class and not from the traditional ranks of tribal lords. His appointment was praised with high respect and expectations. He finds himself after the first week of taking office in the middle of the bloody separatist movement. Belochistan has rich and largely unexploited reserves of copper, gold, natural gas and its own deep water port Gwadar. Its history is marked by chronic instability since being incorporated into Pakistan in 1948.

The government in Islamabad and Belochistan are facing their first big challenge in dealing with ruthless terrorists.

Visiting the Supreme Court lets, of course, a sleeping lawyer's heart beat faster. The many rooms bursting with lawyers, all dressed in black suits and ties and with white shirts, a dense atmosphere of excitement. All cases can be brought to the SC, up to the judges to decide which ones they will accept to proceed. The portraits on the wall show former judges wearing impressive white wigs - no longer in use, as this tradition would seriously challenge the endurance of the wise men at the bench, load shedding also here taking place. The elegant white ponytail of one of the judges more of a fashionable statement, I assume. The elevator has a fan fixed inside, hanging from the ceiling and producing a light air disturbance in the otherwise rather sticky cabin.
Chief Justice Chaudry presides over a case in Courtroom One, the legendary judge, who stretches his power in the eyes of many to - and beyond - the limits. His term comes to an end in October. A politician and dear friend from Sindh is challenging the election outcome in his province in the next courtroom and another one is filling up with journalists. We find out that the "case Musharraf" is next on the agenda.



As my struggle to connect to Apple's iCloud floating in cyber space continues, I pack the various devices in order to be virtually connected in the car and head to a residential area, where - I was told - a villa houses some young computer wizards. And indeed, behind a discrete gate and a few marble steps down, "Pak Mac""invites for support to any possible computer problem! The friendly guys, all in the same impeccably ironed striped shirts and jeans offer immediate help, download and upload, a process that would take several hours... No despair, what to do with that unexpected time in an unknown location as I am quickly invited to tea and biscuits and interesting discussions with these self taught specialists. They just want to have a peaceful country, where they can live a prosperous life and don't have to worry about politics.

The "Agas" are fighting the heat with ever new and inventive ideas and we eagerly share every single one of them! The latest treasures from the local fashion markets in thin white lawn fabric, made to measurements, wander repeatedly back to the tailor, the airflow through the clothes seems a bit too generous even for the temperatures we face here. Small pink boxes find their place in our handbags, as dear friend "Agalex" introduces us to the "face saving" tiny pieces of magic paper we are eagerly "blotting" our faces with. Keeping a pair of sandals stuffed with moistened paper in the freezer makes for another wonderful refreshment to look forward to, when stepping into them (I barely remember the heating pads for the ski boots, that I used to treasure in other times...)!!

Agas lunch at Saidpur village - the restaurant Andaaz offers a table packed with the full variety of asian dishes, the many different and tasty spices heat additionally from the inside and we ask for all the shades to be lowered around us. Hence, there remains one spot in bright sunlight and before being baked and cooked and able to be served on an additional plate, I ask for relief to that impending danger. Of course there is: a young waiter stretches a blanket behind my back. After a while I enquire wether the young gentleman is waiting for clips to fix the volatile structure. He politely answers that he will be standing here, serving as a living umbrella. My friends suggest to enjoy this once in a lifetime service, which, I admit is tempting - well, I take a hard decision, I change the seat.

Summer always means change, as the Diplomatic carousel is again turning, entering the second farewell round for us and we say goodbye to our colleagues at a small lunch reception, organized by the Dean of the Diplomatic Corps - remembering with some nostalgia dear friends, last year's nomads that left the country for new endeavors. Again, the Dean reaches new levels of style and the parting are offered beautifully crafted chests (one hopes, packaging the household is still in process, in order to send them on their way to the next posting by shipping container and not as hand luggage on the plane...) and the ladies contemplate about the many jewelries that surely are meant to be safely stored in those lovely compartments. The men opt for cigars.
Each of the Ambassadors holds a short - or not so short - speech, standing behind the chests and dear Dutch colleague and friend Gaius quotes Antoine de St.Exupery - "partir, c'est toujours mourir un peu"- hoping that this is not meant literally given the similarity of the wooden and carved boxes with elegant coffins. The white gladioli on top right on place....