My journey to Pakistan Part 4: Water and street restaurants

One of my biggest fears while traveling to Pakistan was getting sick and not being able to have proper medical care. I tried to pack with me all medicine I thought I may need for diseases I never had, I even called friends and asked about their experiences in different countries and what medicine they needed and didn’t have. I ended up traveling with a small pharmacy with me, mostly stomach drugs, expecting the worse from the spicy food and unsafe water.

I was advised to drink bottled water, or, if it is the case to drink tap water, I should boil it first. Bottled water was a good and affordable option so I preferred it. However, on few occasions, I had boiled and cooled tab water. It didn’t get me sick, I didn’t get any bacteria, but the taste was a bit awkward.

I enjoyed dining in nice restaurants like DHA Creek Club, Pie in the Sky Bakery, Hobnob (formerly Copper Kettle), Nando’s, Pizza Hut, but I had the best Pakistani food in small local dinners such as Thali Inn at Boatbasin or Meerut Kebab House.

The funniest thing happened in a dinner where I had the best kebab ever with halwa puri (Pakistanis love to combine hot hot food with sweet food – interesting combination, but not my personal fav). While we were waiting on our order, I was looking around me with great reservation, if not horror, thinking that such place could never exist in Romania, as it would be shut down instantly by the consumer protection authority because of insalubrity. Yes, I have to say it, it was dirty. Tables, chairs, walls…everything. So while these thoughts were going through my head, my mother in law asked me if we have similar places back home. All I could do is smile and say “No”. But, leaving aside this aspect, I have to say the food was amazingly delicious. I just loved it completely. And, to my relief, next day no stomach pain, no other unpleasant surprise. I ate in the most unsanitary place and did not get food poisoning.

However I did not escape Pakistani restaurants without food poisoning, but it came after having a beautiful romantic dinner in a “high life” restaurant near Zamzama Park. People say it might have been the fish, I say it could have been anything else.

It is not in vain that locals say that in Pakistan it is not the war that may kill you, but the water or the food. 

Conclusions of the day:

• Drink bottled water just to be on the safe side of things. Boiled tab water comes in handy as an emergency option. 
• Be careful where and what you eat: even in a fancy restaurant you can have surprises if you chose wrong 
• If you wish to try local food, choose wisely: look for crowded places (means the ingredients must be fresh) and try it from a place where you see many local people eating – they sure know the safe options

My journey to Pakistan Part 3: Rich and poor (happily together)

As a developing country, Pakistan’s social classes are very clearly separated: the poor with the poor, the rich with the rich and the poor working for the rich. I’ve seen great poverty and incredible luxury, exclusivist golf courses reachable through the slums, people living under the starry sky and others sleeping in million dollars mansions.

Disclaimer: I may be wrong about the apparent nonexistence of the middle class, as my observations are strictly based on what was available to me.

I never thought I would have someone do the dishes for me (here my sister Laura would strongly disagree because I don’t like washing dishes in evening, so she “voluntarily” washes them in morning – THANK YOU), cook, clean, iron for me, wash my clothes, water the plants and so on. And to be honest, I found it strange to have people do things for me while I read, sleep or just do nothing. But the first time I wanted to wash the dishes I was stopped by my mother in law so I decided to do as I am told: rest.

Yes, people like to rest in Pakistan. I was most of the times under the impression that people have no pre-determined schedule and that the ones who have, don’t follow it as rigorously as I am used to. This reminded me a little of my vacations in Greece where people value their leisure time greatly. But although the day may have a lazy and late start, it always seemed that Karachi never sleeps.

Rich or poor, people love to be out on the streets. Food streets (yes, there are streets only with restaurants, tea places, juice bars) get incredibly crowded after 10 PM. On these food streets you can see rich and poor people eating in the same diner, same 100 rupees dishes (less than 1 euro), drink the same tea. I loved this about Pakistan: when it gets to food and eating, manners are dropped and people are enjoying a lot.

But enough about food for now. A special post is needed just for this so I will give it it’s time and space later on.

Another place where the line between rich and poor seemed to disappear was at the sea side. Karachi is a city on the coast of the Arabian Sea and people love to go to the beach. Although sunbathing and bathing in the sea in the way that I thought of is forbidden (bathing suits are taboo and appearing half naked in public can get you into a lot of trouble), a lot of people still go to the beach even if it is just for the fun of being outside, cooling (your feet only) in water, riding a camel or a horse on the beach. Some come with their land cruisers straight on the beach and don’t even get out of the car (can’t really understand the fun of doing this), others take a more classical approach to things and walk on the fine sand.

When we went there the waves were enormous because of the monsoon season and rumors had it that some young men drowned there the day before so people were very careful about going in the water. However, it was a fun day once I got used to people staring at me.

At the end of the day everybody went back to their normal high or low class life, rich people drove back home in their air conditioned cars, while poor people walked back to their homes. Some things take time to change.

Conclusions of the day:

• class differences are very obvious, with some people living in open air with their children and their cattle(s) in one place and other people enjoying maximum luxury (just like everywhere in the world)
• it is the most common and affordable thing to have employees do all the house work for you
• good food bridges the class gap

My journey to Pakistan Part 2: A drive through Karachi

Karachi is one of the biggest cities in the world with over 11 million people (some sources talk about 18 million people). It is about 15 times the size of Bucharest, the capital of Romania. I still can’t imagine how big that is, but just for the sake of comparison , it is bigger than Paris, Istanbul or Bangkok.

Getting out of the house was a bit of a hassle. I love to walk. Love, love, love. But in Karachi, you don’t walk. You get out of the house, get into the car and go where you need to get. By car. This was my biggest problem, but I had to comply.

The streets were large and the noise was big. Small cars are the way to go around on the busy streets and people seemed a little careless to what happens to the vehicle (scratches are no issue) as long as they can get through. Rickshaws are everywhere and also lots of people on motors. And yes, buses are just like in the movies or in the pictures from the internet: colorful and overcrowded. 

I was advised not to take pictures so that people don’t get suspicious. At every light stop there were beggars coming to the car and knocking at my window. Again, being a foreigner is a big attraction for many curious people. Just like in Romania :)

Driving seems to be a gentlemen’s agreement. Sure there are rules…I guess. But the main rule is that the car honking first has priority. First few drives (on the passenger’s seat) were like a roller-coaster ride for me. First of all we were driving on the wrong side of the street. Everybody was driving on the wrong side of the street. There was a lot of honking and sometimes the priority was decided by the one who had more guts. But I was the only one surprised by the whole thing. For the rest of the people this was the normal day-to-day driving.

I didn’t get to see much of the city first time I was there. We stayed mainly around the neighborhood, which is the same with late Benazir  Bhutto’s former residence and park, a rather posh area with nice houses, embassies and parks, shopping malls and food streets.

What stroke me the most was the security: I’ve not seen a real rifle in my life before landing in Karachi. And in Karachi I’ve seen so many, that I got used to them in few days. Almost every store has a security guard with a big rifle, while at banks or jewelry stores there are several guards. Some people have heavy armed bodyguards following them around, but we were in an area with several embassies and extra security seemed appropriate. Entering a shopping mall meant having the handbag scanned and us going through a metal detector. First I felt so strange. Then I felt a little more secure. After few days I didn’t even notice.

My conclusions:

• driving around can be an extreme sport for a newbie 
• buses, rickshaws, 4 people on a small motorcycle is not uncommon
• if you are uncomfortable around guns and rifles, a visit to Pakistan will cure that in few days  (but will not get you hurt ;) )

My journey to Pakistan Part 1: Getting there – airport and first impressions

Few years back Pakistan was an abstract name for me, a name that I would hear in the news, but never pay attention to. I never took time to read about the country’s history, about its traditions and people as never in my wildest dreams I thought of getting there.

And then it happened. Cupid stoked and my life turned 180 degrees and I started to read about this far away land. If there’s anything that working in the media has taught me, it is that the least relevant information about the actual life in a country can be obtained from TV or newspapers news.

Sure reading and understanding historical, economic and political facts helped to get an idea about where this country is and what is going on in there, but to be honest nothing really prepared me for what I was about to experience on my own.

The visa procedure went surprisingly well and quick. The counselor and the ambassador of Pakistan in Romania were extremely kind and helpful.

It was interesting to observe people’s reactions to the news that I am going to Pakistan for a vacation. I guess it is not a country on the top of traveling destinations or must see places. My dad asked me to be extra careful there as he doesn’t have enough money for ransom :)

For a girl who had traveled only in Europe, the information about what to expect in Pakistan was so complex that I decided to neglect it completely. The other option was to freak out and I couldn’t let that happen.

I have to say that it was the biggest thing I have ever done: going willingly to a country listed by the ministry of foreign affairs as a war zone.

The flight was comfortable and it took less than going by train from Bucharest to Cluj (my fav city in Romania).

My first surprise was that although alcohol is forbidden in Pakistan, there were a lot of intoxicated people coming out of the plane. Sure, I can’t assume that they were locals. They could have been of other nationalities and just enjoying the last contact with Bacchus’ nectar before they reach the forbidden land. But still it was a little strange.

I reached Karachi in the night and went through passport control quite fast. They have special queues for unaccompanied ladies and people were very polite. Sure, there were questions, but nothing unexpected.

I have to admit that it was strange to see all around me people that looked different, dressed different and spoke a language that I couldn’t understand a word of.

I was advised to pick my luggage quickly and walk without talking to anyone. Before landing that seemed absurd. After landing I understood that in a foreign land you have to rely first of all on what you know and what is familiar to you and there is no reason to be brave. I picked my stuff and walked as fast as I could with a 25 kg luggage :)

And there it was: my first contact with the real thing. No spooky monster like the news were announcing all the time. Just people. Different people, but nonetheless people. Sure, for a minute or two I was the center of attention. I guess there is not every day you see a young, blonde, unaccompanied lady walking around.

The first real shock was the weather. It was the end of June and I was told that monsoon season started or was about to start (don’t really remember). But for me monsoon season and high humidity were as abstract notions as moon atmosphere. Getting out of the airport, which, by the way, was nicely air conditioned, was like walking directly into a hot air blow dryer. Although it was around 1 AM, it seemed like there were 50 degrees there. I sweated instantly in what I thought were my comfortable jeans and I have to admit I looked with high envy at the local’s shalwar kameez which seemed like a much more appropriate option.

Driving from airport to home didn’t offer me the time to see much in the 40 minutes ride because it was late in night, but I enjoyed seeing palm trees everywhere and many outdoor billboards with smiling faces and slogans I couldn’t read.

First conclusions:

• hot weather means sauna hot and humid weather means steam bath humid – like it would make your nicely straightened hair curl back to mother nature :)

• jeans are not the best option for summer in Pakistan

• people look different, talk different, dress different, but they are welcoming and polite