Chakwal...

It is exactly six months to the day that I came to Pakistan! And life is still full of surprises, especially life in Chakwal.... I am living at the MIED hostel with one other girl, and the guys’ hostel is next door. Let me tell you about the meal I cooked for myself this evening to celebrate my six months anniversary. It was the first meal I have cooked in our kitchen, and first I had to clean (well, completely sterilise) the place. Here is a photo of my kitchen pre sterilisation (as you can see it is a bit short on the appliances side of things).

Among other pleasant things I found a dead hornet in the sink, and the place was black with grime. But I enjoyed it (something very satisfying about cleaning.)

MIED have kindly managed to bring for me some of the things I had in my kitchen in Mansehra, so I had saucepans and plates and things. But unfortunately the ants had found them before me, so they required thorough cleaning before use as well. There is only one fridge, and that is in the boys’ hostel, so every time I needed butter etc that was a trek around to the other house. I needed butter cos earlier one of the drivers had bought some cooking oil, but it is in a plastic bag! So now I need to find a bottle to pour the oil into. Anyway, I made a really good meal of fried potatoes with a tomato sauce, and thoroughly enjoyed eating it. But then when I came back to do the washing up there were hundreds of ants (maybe a slight exaggeration). So I went on the warpath – it wasn’t a pleasant sight. And then, finally, I had to go and ask one of the guys what to do with the rubbish, and imagine my complete horror when he chucked it over the wall. I have to say that I didn’t react particularly well - I couldn’t quite articulate my feelings in Urdu and the guy didn't speak much English. I can’t believe that they just throw all their rubbish onto the empty ground next door. But there is no rubbish collection here so there is nothing else they can do. The rubbish situation was bad in Mansehra, but at least they had bins that were emptied sometimes. What can I do????? Any suggestions gratefully received. (The photo is of the rubbish outside our house with a friendly next door neighbour.)

As I have been here six months now I thought I was getting used to Pakistani society. But things still have the power to completely shock me. For example, the other day I was talking with some girls and we walked past a building that used to be a cinema. I started to get excited and asked whether there was a working cinema in Chakwal now. Imagine my excitement when I heard that there was! But that excitement was short lived – apparently it is completely culturally inappropriate for women to go to the cinema, even accompanied by men. One of the girls said that she would like to go to the cinema just once in her life. So girls, next time you do such a normal thing as going to the cinema just think how lucky you are.

The attack on Plan has affected many things in Chakwal. The other day I went to a meeting with all the Plan partners and it was about working with communities and how to behave appropriately and deal with cultural norms. But then when we got back to the office we had to wait for someone to come with the keys. The girl I was with said I should wait in the boiling hot car because of cultural norms. Hmm. I have to say I refused, even though we had just been in an 8 hour session about how to behave appropriately. I’m finding it quite difficult to figure out how much to adapt, and when to draw a line. I am finding things quite culturally restrictive at the moment, more so than when I was in Mansehra. I can’t quite work out why as I’m not in the North West Frontier any more. I think it might partly be to do with having been at home in the UK for a short while. And also people are worried about my security so they are being more careful. The attack on Plan has changed things – the girls say that they are more careful with the way that they deal with the men they work with now. Some people here think it is not acceptable for women to work in NGOs.

So, all in all it is an experience. I went to Islamabad this weekend, and went up to Abbottabad on Saturday to collect my things. But unfortunately Corry and I had so much combined stuff between us that my things didn’t fit in the car, and so they are still in Abbottabad! So my possessions are scattered there, a few in Islamabad, and the rest here in Chakwal. I don’t know where I am going to end up – things are still very uncertain. It could be any of those three places. But anyway, I was able to see Corry’s new place in Islamabad (she is based there now, and working at VSO and another NGO). It is amazing! I was going to put up a photo of her living room and compare it to mine, but I have decided against it because I have just about got over my jealousy. When I volunteered, I didn’t expect to have every luxury, and so it shouldn’t be an issue that things in Chakwal are more on the basic side. And the people I am living with are really lovely and so helpful and welcoming, it makes things a lot easier. So anyway, here are a few photos of where I am living now:…

The spectacularly placed open drain centrally underneath our front door. Visions of dropping keys and laptops down there......

The living room at the girls hostel. OK, can I let my jealousy show through slightly and say that Corry (and two other VSOs) have TEN sofas between them.

The roof of our house, right next to the roof of the Mosque. Notice the loudspeakers - the first call to prayer is at 4.30 am. But also notice the lovely sunset and gorgeous view from our roof...

back home!

It was incredible how quickly I slotted back into my life in the UK – I remember sitting on the plane and daydreaming about what things I would buy when I finally entered Waitrose again (humous, coleslaw and cheese). But when I did get there, I had already turned into a usual shopper, trying to get round as fast as I could to leave as quickly as possible.

I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me when I sat on a south-west trains service at Epsom station again, as it used to be my second home. Let me tell you, that did not last very long – just until someone started talking very loudly on their mobile in an otherwise silent carriage, and I rediscovered my commuter persona and exceedingly low annoyance threshold.

My first day back was slightly surreal – the sense of freedom when I went for a run was amazing! (But don’t ask how far I was actually able to run after 5 months of no exercise. My excuse was that I couldn’t actually run on the common as it was so muddy). And it was great to go to church without a sense of fear, even slight, that I could be blown up. Needless to say it was great seeing my family and friends again. And I experienced all types of English weather possible – howling wind, hail, snow, rain and even a little bit of sun.

I did face a few problems that I didn’t foresee. For example, what to say when people asked ‘how is Pakistan?’ Should I go with the truth: attack on an NGO near where I worked, evacuation, more threats, uncertainty, fear…? I tried that a couple of times but given that it was the ultimate conversation stopper I switched to the vague: ‘good, the weather in Islamabad is nice at this time of year..’ with a weak smile. Needless to say, this didn’t apply to all you lovely people who already read my blog. Re that, another VSO volunteer has put on her blog a list of people who obviously don’t read it because they keep asking her how it is going. I won’t resort to such a list of shame yet, as it would be topped with a member of my own family (my parents asked me yesterday to make clear that it wasn't them. So that leaves......?!).

Anyway, so now I am back in Islamabad again, with mixed feelings. It was almost worse saying goodbye to people this time round than before. My brother managed to avoid a tearful goodbye by threatening mum with a snowball (who cowered behind the wheelie bin), chucking it, and then making a quick exit on his bike. That’s the way to go.

Easter!

So, I’m running slightly behind on updating my blog as have been in the UK, and had a few other things to do there than writing. So, I’ll carry on from where I left off (Easter), and fill you in on my UK travels at a later date.

Here is a question for you: how many sites from different world religions is it possible to visit over one Easter weekend in an Islamic Republic?

Answer: sites from ALL the major world religions! On Good Friday VSO arranged a trip for all the new volunteers (they came out two weeks ago) and evacuees (me and Corry) several hours south of Islamabad to the second largest salt mines in the world. We were able to go on a little train right into the middle of the mine and it was so beautiful:

So I hear you wondering what has this got to do with world religions? Well, nothing, but after that we visited a Hindu pilgrimage site – the second holiest Hindu site in Pakistan. The site is mentioned in the Mahabharata – an ancient Hindu text, written 300BC.

I know the building at the front looks slightly like a Norman fort, but I don't think it is!

The next day we visited a Muslim shrine – it was very beautifully decorated inside with piles of rose petals, tinsel and photos of Islamic holy places.

Then on Easter Sunday I managed to get to church (after much stress as High Commission advised against it). I’ve never been to a church before where I had to walk past a police cordon, armed guards and a body and bag search. Quite depressing given the meaning of the celebration of Easter.

After that VSO had arranged another trip to Taxila. This is a very famous archaeological site with remains from from the Buddhist era through the time of Greek influence when Alexander came through as well as Moghul and Hindu relics. To be honest, I got thoroughly confused as to the history as it encompassed such a long time period but I (maybe) will research it and then provide you all with an in depth and incisive analysis (!). But it was great seeing the Buddhist remains – we visited a Buddhist monastery 2000 years old, and it was really interesting seeing the tombs with Buddhist art as well as the Greek influence.

And in the same afternoon we also visited a Sikh gurudwara which is also a very important pilgrimage site as it has a copy of their holy book – the Granth Sahib. We walked through some water and past a big rock with a hand print on of Guru Nanak. Sikhs believe that he stopped part of the mountain being thrown at him with his hand. Also, they believe that by walking through the water by this rock they they can wash away their sins.

In Taxila, there was a Buddha with a hole in the stomach, and Buddhists believe if you put your finger in there and pray then it will heal your bodily ailments. I felt quite holy after such a religious day, especially on Easter Sunday.

So, I wish I could end with some pearl of wisdom all about the different religions, particularly relating the experience of walking past armed guards into church, but I can’t think of anything clever so will leave it by saying that I feel very blessed to be here and have had such experiences (except the armed guards)!

Gilgit 2

Happy Easter everyone! I hope that you all had a joyful and peaceful celebration. I’ll leave an account of my Easter weekend to the next instalment, as I realise it has taken me quite a while to continue the Gilgit story. This was partly due to writers block (in other words laziness in my case) and partly there has been yet more uncertainty because of a bomb in an Islamabad restaurant. It is not good as Islamabad usually has high surveillance, and it was specifically targeting foreigners – this is the first time that foreigners have been a target since 2002.

Anyway, I’ll move from that depressing note and back to the Gilgit story… The reason I went there was because I was with an MIED team who came for training at the Professional Development Centre of the Aga Khan Education Services. The Aga Khan is the Imam of the Ismaili sect of Islam, and he has had a huge impact in this area through the Aga Khan Development Network, of which AKES is part. The Professional Development Centre provides training for people working in the education sector – members of NGOs, teachers, head-teachers and government officials.

The Northern Areas of Pakistan are very interesting – they are in a crucial geopolitical position – on the east they border India, to the north China, coming round there is a few km next to Tajikistan, and Afghanistan, and then to the south the North West Frontier Province. It is so surprising how liberal parts of this area are given the conservative nature of their surroundings. The literacy rate is considerably better here than in the rest of Pakistan, and it was not unusual to see groups of young women wandering around, which is so different to everywhere else I have seen in Pakistan (except Islamabad). A major contrast to travelling up on the KKH through Indus Kohistan where there were no women around.

The first day we were in Gilgit we went on a field visit to Hunza, which is an area about three hours north of Gilgit on the KKH, and so beautiful! First we went to a school and met members of the community and mothers. The women were happy to speak out and tell us of their experiences and how they contribute to the running of the school. This was so inspiring as I hadn’t yet been to any community meeting where the women spoke out in front of the men. In addition, a woman who had had no education spoke about the importance of early childhood care and education, and why care is so important for children of this age. It really shows that attitudes can change towards the importance of education and particularly female education.

Then we drove to Karimabad – we went past Rakaposhi, one of the highest mountains in the world, but I couldn’t see the top because it was cloudy. We were able to visit the Baltit fort in Karimabad, which is a 700 year old fort that was the home of the ruling family of the area. It was influenced by Tibetan culture because one of the Prince’s married a Princess from Baltistan, and it does look slightly like the Potala Palace (not that I have seen that!). It was really interesting seeing where the family had lived for hundreds of years – the kitchen with huge stone pots and blackened ceiling due to centuries of wood burning, the jail and the private rooms. The Mir of Hunza donated the building to the Aga Khan to be conserved and restored.

The rest of the week in Gilgit I participated in the training course at PDCN, which was really excellent. I learnt a lot about problems with the education system in Pakistan, and theories of school improvement. The training centre was amazing – the trainers were really enthusiastic and couldn’t do enough to help us, the views were stunning, and the buildings very well resourced. I was even able to read the Economist!

I flew back, as there was a consensus that going back by road was a little too risky following the attack on Plan. It is meant to be a really spectacular flight, and taking off between the mountains was amazing. But then, you don’t need three guesses – I felt a little sick and so couldn't enjy the views to their full extent.

I could say that I have been run off my feet in Islamabad, but that would be rather a major embellishment of the truth. Don’t think that my whole life here is one big long exciting adventure – most of my time in Islamabad has been spent eating, sleeping, reading and watching DVDs (and a bit of shopping given that all the clothes I had with me when I flew from Gilgit were suitable for a Himalayan winter, and now it seems like a tropical summer). And doing some work.

The other day we went up to Mansehra so I could collect my things. It has been about a month since I have been there, and it was really depressing packing everything up. The last time I was there was for one evening between being in Islamabad and going up to Gilgit, and I remember thinking thank goodness I am home. Before the elections we had to pack up all our things in case of evacuation from the country, and I was certain then that we wouldn’t be leaving. Now, I realise that anything is possible, and situations change within a minute. I’m definitely learning not to take anything for granted.

Anyway, I am coming home for a bit in a couple of days Inshallah so would really like to catch up with as many people as possible!

Gilgit

There is a real phase at the moment among Pakistani girls of sending encouraging and prewritten text messages around. This is one I received earlier:
‘BEAUTIFUL people reflect ALLAH in their lives. They think his thoughts, speak his words and love without reason. May you remain a beautiful person always!’
These gems of grace make me smile and are part of the reason I want to stay in this beautiful country even when there is unbelievable human brutality.

We still do not know why Plan was attacked, but it was well planned and their target was clearly an International NGO, which just changes everything (as NGOs have not previously been a target in this area). The Director and another MIED guy came down the other day and it was really great seeing them – they seemed quite optimistic for the future, which is good. But they both went to the Plan Office after the attack so it was harrowing talking to them. No decisions have been made yet, so it looks like I’ll be in Islamabad for a little longer. The uncertainty has been bad – it was horrible saying goodbye to MIED people in Gilgit and not knowing whether I am going to see them again. And I am not going to be allowed back to Mansehra so my life there is at an end.

But anyway, that is enough misery – I want to tell all about my trip to Gilgit cos it was so amazing and I want to make you all jealous! The journey to Gilgit is up the Karakoram Highway (the name is slightly misleading, don’t imagine a motorway, imagine the smallest and bendiest mountain road you’ve ever been on). But anyway the road takes you up through Battagram (where there have been bombs against NGOs), through Besham (outlying region of Swat where there is army action) and Indus Kohistan (tribal and bandit country). Pretty exciting (though was slightly nervous before going)! The road was built throughout the 1960s and 1970s as a partnership between China and Pakistan, as it goes all the way from Islamabad to Kashgar in China, and it is also known as the China – Pakistan friendship highway. It is 1300km long and one person died for every kilometre in its construction because it goes through such treacherous terrain, particularly the valley of the Indus.

We were meant to leave at 6 in the morning but we actually left Mansehra about 7am. The first part of the journey up to Battagram passed in a bit of a haze cos I was still quite sleepy. But we had breakfast in Battagram which woke me up. Battagram in many senses looked like a normal Pakistani town, but the one major thing that stood out was that there were NO women on the streets. It was a town full of men.

So after Battagram we joined the river Indus at Thakrot - it was very exciting seeing the Indus for the first time. We followed the Indus up through Allai, which was breathtakingly beautiful.

MIED had a project in Allai but I wasn’t allowed to visit (Allai is next to Shangla where there is army action). The project has been completed now though. So we carried on up through Besham, another town with no women around. We stopped and I got off the bus to stretch my legs hoping that I wouldn’t stand out (seeing that so many people have told me I look Pakistani and I had completely covered my head). But as there were no other women around I did stand out slightly!

We then carried on and passed into Indus Kohistan. This was a huge area – we spent the best part of the journey travelling through this area – it must have been about seven or eight hours. The scenery was spectacular – the road was cleaved out of the hard granite rocks that towered above us, and on the other side there was a steep drop to the river Indus.

We stopped off for lunch at Dasu, the major town, and then a couple of hours later for chai in what must be known as KKH style service station. There was a wooden construction with people selling tea, some wooden beds for exhausted drivers to collapse on, and a stream had been diverted where people could wash their hands and faces. I wandered off a little bit and a little boy came up to me and started talking to me. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, and told myself he must have been speaking Kohistani cos I would have definitely understood had he been speaking Urdu :). But one of the guys from MIED came up and said he had been asking whether I was Muslim, and he said yes. But the little boy said I couldn’t have been as my face wasn’t covered. The boy can’t have been more than 6.

Driving through the towering rocks at dusk was kind of spooky – with the lengthening shadows and the mountains and granite rocks close all around us it was really quite a threatening landscape. But we still had miles to travel after nightfall, and I was disappointed because it meant that when we drove past Nanga Parbat (one of the highest mountains in the world) and the place where the Karakoram, Hindu Kush and Himalayas meet I wasn’t able to see anything.

We finally got to Gilgit at 11 o’clock. The little coaster had done us very well and it was only towards the end when we stopped for a break it wouldn’t start again and had to be pushed a little. We then had dinner at about midnight at the centre in Gilgit and I was shattered.

So, that ends the epic trek up the KKH. Adventures in Gilgit and Hunza, as well as the reason why I went to Gilgit, will follow shortly…….

I realise that I have been very lax in updating my blog, so the other day I was starting to plan what to say – all about my two trips to Islamabad, the elections, and my visit to Gilgit (where I am now). But two days ago there was an attack on the Plan Pakistan office in Mansehra, and four people died. A group of men attacked and shot people in the compound and the whole office was burnt down. The people I am with are completely shocked. I can’t believe that this has happened. We don’t have any clue why Plan was attacked.

Corry has been evacuated to Islamabad, and I will be going there after leaving Gilgit. What is going to happen now – with Plan, MIED, and VSO security advice, is very unclear at the moment.

The mountains of Gilgit take my breath away every time I go outside. It is odd being in such a beautiful place and trying to reconcile this beauty with such human brutality.

Balakot

Two years ago there was apparently only one buildings left standing in Balakot town – this area was the epicentre of the earthquake. MIED is starting a new project in schools in the district, and last week I went with some of the team to two schools. The team were conducting a baseline survey – gathering basic information such as the number of children in the schools, whether the schools had any buildings, how many teachers etc etc. It is very difficult to write about an area where thousands of people died and which was completely destroyed, but I will do my best.

The town itself is only about 40km from Mansehra, but where we went was an hour and a half beyond that into the mountains. The place was breathtakingly beautiful. We left at 7.30 in the morning and it was a completely clear day so driving up to the snow-covered mountains in the sun and the morning mist was wonderful.

We stopped for a much needed cup of tea in Balakot as it was so cold. But because I was travelling with two men it was inappropriate for me to enter the restaurant, so I had to drink my tea in the car. It was the first time I remember thinking that my gender has actively stopped me from doing something in such an overt way, and it was a little odd.

What does a town look like two years after it was completely destroyed? Well, in Balakot itself it seemed that many of the buildings had been rebuilt, although there were still quite a few tents and temporary structures. But we drove past a school and one of the guys I was with told me that over 200 children had died in that one school. It is clear that NGOs have had a huge impact in this area - the whole place was overrun by every NGO and INGO you could possibly think of, as well as numerous NGO signs - announcing what projects they were running, the duration, how much it had cost and the number of beneficiaries. But further into the valley and the more inaccessible areas there was less evidence of NGO activities. It is catch 22 that the those communities which are most inaccessible are often the most in need.

The road beyond Balakot town was indescribably bad. When we were in the town I looked up and saw this tiny path meandering along the side of the mountain with a sheer drop down of I don’t know how many hundred metres. Unfortunately it was the only road around, so along it we went. There were landslides every couple of metres. Although the road had been paved at some point, now most of it was covered with compressed debris. Actually, I preferred the areas that weren’t paved because the driver was forced to be less enthusiastic with the accelerator. In areas parts of the road had just collapsed down the mountainside. Early on I decided it was a choice between spending the whole journey with my head in my hands, or just going with the flow, so I was able to look down the mountainside with a degree of composure, and my right leg twitched only occasionally.

I can’t imagine how the people live there – the mountainsides were scarred with landslides, but dotted between the landslides were houses perched on the edge, literally. And this whole area has been designated a red zone by the government because of earthquakes, and they are trying to dissuade people from living there. But people are unwilling to move because their families have been there for generations.

An hour and a half later we reached a little village and heard that there was a landslide further up so couldn’t drive to the school. After much deliberation we decided to walk around the landslide and then hire a local vehicle to take us to the school. I thought that the road from Balakot town was bad, but it was nothing compared to the minor road to the school. It was very steep, bendy, narrow, unpaved and we drove over countless of other landslides And the vehicle was pretty basic as well – the door didn’t close properly, but there were artificial roses hanging in the front so at least it looked pretty.

When we got to the school it was a collapsed building. Two years after the earthquake. I found it quite shocking – there were piles of rubble, a cupboard still with paper in it and blackboards with writing on. Just to add to the whole depressing aura I almost tripped up over a horse’s skull.

It was the school holidays so there were no children, but we were able to get the necessary information from the teacher. Apparently they do have a UNICEF tent where they can hold the lessons.

Then we had the journey back again. We stopped off at the same restaurant in Balakot for lunch, and the men invited me in this time. I was very puzzled as to why I could enter the restaurant this time, but I soon found out – I had to go and eat my lunch separately in a family room. A corner of the restaurant had been boxed off, and when I entered there were two other girls in there. All the Britishness in me rebelled at the thought of interrupting and joining two complete strangers in the middle of lunch, but they were lovely and we had an interesting conversation – they were also NGO workers. It was an Afghan restaurant, and the food was really good. The men eat Pakistani style but not sitting on the floor – they sit on the tables.

So, that concludes my trip to Balakot.