Pakist'Anne Frank

I've been back in Pakistan for 5 days now, the events of which have been entirely un-noteworthy but I'm making this blog entry for entirely self-serving purposes. This entry should be considered little more than an exercise to keep one amused in the early evening, during a powercut with only a fully charged laptop for company. Read on at your own discretion.

I’ll begin by describing the context that drove me to inflict my boredom on others. Since flying into a foggy, drippy Lahore on Wednesday morning and returning to my pad, I have left the house only twice for no longer than an hour and half each time. The reason for this is partly (first two days) due to jetlag and my cold, now approaching its triumphant four-week anniversary and having progressed on to cruelly robbing me of my senses of smell and taste. The other part (next three days) is due to the religious festival of Muharram which has now reach day ten of a month long mourning period. The tenth day is the climax of the proceedings where the old city sees many members of the Shi’ia faith taking to the streets and self-flagellating, some using sharp knives, in multiples of 3,7 or 21, attached to long chains. It’s not exactly what I would call a tourist attraction but nonetheless, VSO have advised that we stay in the house as events can sometimes turn unpredictably violent in more than just the self-inflicted manner described.

As a result of this we have passed a very leisurely few days sleeping, sunbathing on the balcony, (in full salwar kameez, but my face has a nice colour to it now) being snotty and appreciating the texture of various foods. It's amazing how sharply ones qualityof life declines without a sense of smell or taste. Boredom eating hasn't even come into the equation as a possible activity to help pass my hibernation weekend.

Anyway, since I'm stuck in the house, I thought I would take the opportunity to give you a tour and tell you about where I live. I live in the cantonment (army housing) area of Lahore in the upstairs portion of the home of a very pleasant family. We enter the house through a side door and climb the curly stairs into this very bizarre open plan bit. We currently hang our washing here but I have suggested getting some space hoppers so we can make better use of the area. The stairs you can see in the picture curl upwards into nothing. Not literally, like the edge of the universe or anything, just this weird plastic roof-lid thing.

Here's our kitchen, cooking facilities basically consist of the double hob and a microwave sized oven (not pictured).

Here is the living room, where we luxuriate, receive guests and play internet. We have no TV but I don't really mind, TV here is pretty bad despite there being around 80 channels. It just takes 16 times longer than in the UK to realise there's nothing worth watching.

This is the view of our balcony from inside. It's quite big but we don't go out there much as all the neighbours can see and seem to like to stare. No one can see us if we sit on the floor so we can catch some rays if necessary, but I still wouldn't risk damaging the neighbours' delicate constitutions by wearing my bikini.

This is my boudoir. I get pretty cold at night because the houses here are designed to keep the heat out for the sweltering summers. I'm sure I'll be grateful for it in a few months but for now my feet freeze on the faux-marble floor.

Finaly, here is my en suite bathroom. I rarely use the squat toilet as we have a normal one in another bathroom and also in view of an a incident where I was overtired, overconfident and undercareful with my pyjama bottoms. Nuff (too much?) said. The shower head thing next to the loo, attached to the outside of the bath is like a squirty handheld bidet. I can't figure out the logistics of using one of those in public places when there seems to be nothing provided in the way of tissues or any other implement for drying ones "self".

I'm also probably the luckiest VSO volunteer ever in that I have both a bath with shower and a seperate shower with a reliable supply of steaming hot water.

So that completes the tour. From looking at pictures of volunteer accommodation in other countries, I think I'm pretty lucky to be living in such a nice place. I think that's about all I have to say for now, I really don't know where Anne Frank got her inspiration...

a very porky christmas

well it's been a while since I've had anything to say but I thought it was time for an update so here goes....

I'm writing to you from my mother's living room in Hove, UK where I've been slobbing about for around three weeks now. I decided spontaneously to return home for Christmas, no one in my family was expecting me and the carefully-planned surprises elicted such loving terms of endearment as "piss artist", "fucker" and "wanker".

The decision to come home was based on various factors including the fact that AAS closed for ten days over Christmas, therefore my puny holiday entitlement would be unaffected by going home for the festive period. The slight frustration I expressed in the previous blog entry had turned quickly to a daily fury/depression at the difficulties I was experiencing in making myself understood at work and I was in dire need of some sort of refuge. The clincher came when I tried to picture a Christmas meal without pigs in blankets. I realised that it just categorically could not be done and for me it seemed like a sicker form of self-flagellation. Before you could say "pork products are amazing" I found myself on the phone to Pakistan International Airlines enquiring about direct flights from Lahore to Heathrow.

I've now spent an urgently needed few weeks consuming pork products of all varieties (yes, even pork scratchings), boozing to various degrees on a daily basis and wearing revealing clothes at suitable opportunites and when not suffering from some sort of annoying flu thing which seemed to strike most people over Chrimbo/NY.

And so on to the interesting part - Bhutto's assassination. Needless to say, I was pretty relieved to be here watching the riots from the comfort of my family home and not in Pakistan under house arrest like my poor housemate who was home all alone for the duration. I think VSO told her to stay in the house for around 3 days during which she had no company and no internet as there were prolonged powercuts (a regular theme in Lahore at present but usually not lasting for longer than 45 mins at a time).

Everything seems to have calmed down now, however VSO were kind enough to allow me to delay my return to Pakistan. I will have been in UK for almost 4 weeks by the time I return which is quite weird and unexpected. Elections will supposedly take place on 18th February. The volunteers will again be expected to hibernate (stay home, perhaps build a little fort out of sofa cushions and bury food in order to help enhance the hibernation vibe) for 3 days or more. Initially I felt really anxious when I heard this. What if there's a severe backlash after the election? Will we be evacuated? Is the situation hopeless and should I therefore not bother to return? say the UK media: CIVIL WAR!! ....Aargh!!!!...?

As is usually the case when I indulge myself in these little, but definitely justified, security-related freak-outs, I calmed myself down relatively easily by asking a few questions of some people in the know. If events following the election are consistent with Pakistan's history, it is not expected that any civil unrest will last longer than a few days. A civil war, Kenya-styley has also been deemed unlikely due to the lack of any large and distinct both politically and religiously defined groups. Pakistan has been suffering its own internal conflicts in the tribal areas and other provinces for a number of years now. I don't know much about these conflicts to be honest but I do know that the situation in the relatively stable Punjab is quite different. Touch wood to the max, that's what I say.

So, I'm going back to Lahore in a week's time, well rested, with a renewed patience, hoping to make my placement work better and also to take up a job opportunity with a development magazine which surfaced just before I came back.

Before I sign off I would just like to comment on something important I have learnt from the treasured time I have spent back at home during this festive season seeing my valued friends and family members. Basically, it has come to my attention that a number of people I count amongst my nearest and dearest are almost completely ignorant with regards to the events of my life over the past 3 months. This can only mean one thing: you bastards aren't reading my blog! Do you know how bloody tedious it is to have to verbally relay these events over and over again, in addition to having painstakingly written them out in an easily digestable fashion and posting them on the easily accessible interweb?! It's very tedious people, VERY tedious. I'm well aware that the people reading this rant are not the people who are actually in need of hearing it, but you're obviously nice, caring people and I'm sure you would want me to vent. So, between you and me, I've decided that until these gits start reading the blog, I shall keep their names listed here. When they ask me to remove their names, I will know they've visited the page and duly withdraw them from the "name 'n' shame". I think that's fair.

right

1) Ben Burbridge - I read every single one of your round robins when you were travelling and I even printed them all out and made them into an attractive little book for you on your return. Why oh Why don't you care?

2) Chris Kidd (pictured above as Buzz Lightyear) - my own little brother, shame. on. you.

3) Dan Cuffe - I'm sickened to the core, as usual.

4) Edwin David George Fenn. buck your ideas up me laddo.

that is all.