Village life

So, I was thinking the other day that reading my blog must be a little bit like reading a postcard (especially the last entry). I really don’t like getting postcards – my dislike was founded last year when I got one from a friend whilst I was going through dissertation struggles over the summer – it wasn’t great reading about her holiday on the beach in Mallorca when I was stuck in the house from dawn to dusk over a hot computer. So, I’ve decided instead of always writing about myself I will interview some people so that you guys can get more of an idea of what life is like for Pakistanis.

The first girl I interviewed is about my age, but has had a completely different life to me. She grew up in a village in Hunza. I won’t mention her name to protect her anonymity, but we’ll call her Ayesha.

I was very interested to find out what life was like growing up in a village in mountainous Pakistan (particularly because I’ve just been watching ‘Lark Rise to Candleford’ – talk about nostalgia for an idyllic and lost rural past).

And one thing I clearly gathered from her was that things have changed in her village a lot since her childhood and traditions are being lost. This was exemplified by a lively argument between her and a few other women from Hunza during my interview about the exact nature of some of the festivals. This was only twenty something years ago. Even then the village was opening to the modern world – the KKH was open and foreigners were not unusual.

So, let me take you back to a village twenty-something years ago in the Northern Areas. Agriculture is the main source of income – her family was in agriculture, and had fields, goats, sheep and cows. It was the family that looked after the fields – there was no tradition of employing labour except when doing big works. There were no tractors, but things were done by hand, and with oxes. Animals lived in the houses with the families in many cases. Ayesha remembers enjoying giving the oxes food like dough and chapatti in the house – it made the ox very happy!

Now, oxes are no longer used at all now because of threshers. It seemed like she has mixed views regarding the influence of the modern world in her village. Beautiful traditions are being lost, but at the same time it must have been hard work. Apparently cows were used for threshing – someone had to hold a dustbin and run after the cow to catch its urine. Funny, but actually very hard work, and such a waste of time.

But in other respects this was clearly not your typical traditional rural and timeless Pakistani village (if there is such a place). Education, even twenty-something years ago was concerned of paramount importance, and a significant proportion of people’s income was invested in education. Now, three of her sisters have Masters degrees. And there were relatively liberal views – girls were not stopped from working, and there was a more relaxed attitude towards gender than in much of Pakistan – it is traditional with people from this area when they meet to kiss each others hands – very surprising for a country where it is unusual for men and women to even shake each others hands.

There were two major festivals that she told me about – Tahum and Cheneer, and both were based around the agricultural cycle. Tahum celebrated the beginning of spring. People cleaned their house and made traditional food, which was shared within the village, particularly among the elders. They went to the Jammat Khana early in the morning to pray. The Jammat Khana is the Ismaili mosque and centre of village life.

Cheneer was celebrated before the harvesting of the crops. There were slight arguments about what actually happened, but it seems that in the morning they first went to the Jammat Khana, and then went to the field and cut five pieces of wheat. Some of the wheat was tied on to the ceiling on a pillar. All the family members came together to grind the other bits of wheat and it was then put in some milk, which the elders drank.

Weddings are the other festival of great importance in the village. The nature of weddings varies from village to village, even within Hunza, and it seems like weddings are very simple in this village. Very unusually, the girls do not take a dowry with them to their new home, only a few items from their father’s house, and a few clothes. As part of the ceremony the bridegroom brings some suits of clothes for the bride. The bride is dressed very simply compared to other Pakistani weddings – there is no gold, and little make up. The actually wedding ceremony takes place at the Jammat Khana, where it sounds like it is similar to the Christian wedding – prayers are said, verses from the Qu’ran are read, jewellery is exchanged (although it doesn’t have to be rings) and the bride and groom are asked the ‘I do’s’.

On the seventh day after the wedding the bride returns to her father’s house with some chapattis, and this is when she can take implements and one piece of furniture from her father’s home to her new home.

Everyone in this village is Ismaili, and Ayesha is clearly proud to be an Ismaili. Women are able to go to the Jammat Khana to pray, and in the village they often go daily. Inside the Jammat Khana people pray and learn from the Imams, but it also a place where community affairs can be discussed. Ismailism is very tolerant; the Aga Khan is really respected and he interprets the Qu’ran and provides guidance on how to live as an Ismaili. Key messages that Ayesha told me are to respect your culture, make bridges with other communities, respect diversity and pluralism, fasting is not only a matter of not eating, but your whole life should be fasting from sin and evil. The main thing is to respect human beings – first of all, people are human.

The north...

Hunza must be officially one of the most beautiful places in the world. I can’t really describe in words how beautiful, so here are a few photos that will make you very jealous:

We stayed in a house in a little village with the following view from the back garden:

The house was surrounded by potato fields, it had a view up to the glacier, and on one side was the Hunza river:

The scenery was so awesome it definitely reminded me how small we are....

We stayed in a house belonging to a colleague at MIED, and he warned us it was basic. I have seen some basic Pakistani houses, and had mentally prepared myself. But when we walked into the house my friends and I just stood there with out mouths wide open. It was one of the most beautiful houses I have ever seen – it was a traditional Hunza house, with the sleeping area, living area and eating area all in the same room – the whole area was carpeted and cushioned. The roof was wooden. It is difficult to describe, but here is a photo, with a baby in it (twas v baby friendly).

One day we walked up to a glacier, my first glacial experience :) It was fairly surreal being close to a huge block of ice and being too hot. I got completely sunburnt that day. Apparently the glacier has shrunk considerably this year, so we couldn’t get past the moraine to walk on it. We also saw another glacier which had recently caused a flood destroying the road and fields of crops. When we got back I read in a national newspaper that UNDP are analysing the shrinking of these two glaciers as evidence of global warming.



It was really lovely experiencing village life even just for a couple of days – like getting glacier water out from a pump when the taps didn’t work, and walking past women I knew working in the potato fields. Walking around the village was lovely – in contrast to Chakwal where people just stared here everyone said asalam aleikum and smiled, there were women wandering around, and I didn't feel like I was breaking some unwritten social rule by walking outside by myself.

Many people from MIED come from this village, so we were made really welcome. One day someone came to cook for us, their family and many other people from the village as well, and we all sat around a gas lamp (power cut) eating fresh potatoes and spinach from the fields. And another day we went to visit a different family and arrived at 9.30 in the evening as it was quite a long walk. They weren’t expecting us, but they even cooked a meal for us! The wife was incredible – she was looking after 5 kids (not all her own), teaching in a local school, cooking a meal for 3 strangers and making us welcome in her home. The people in this village really were among the most friendly and hospitable that I have ever met.

I was with two friends – a married couple and their baby. It was actually really great travelling with a baby – he coped better with the heat and the altitude than the rest of us! He was a great ice breaker, and Pakistani men loved him! Quite a few times random strangers came up to us and kissed him – slightly bizarre but we got used to it.

So I’ve decided to buy a house there and grow my own potatoes and cherries. Forget coming back and getting a proper 9-5 job in London.

Islamabad again

Last week I bid a fond farewell to the hostel in Chakwal and moved to back Islamabad. I was really sorry to leave (except the ants, but I have an inkling that problem isn’t just restricted to Chakwal). Life in the hostel had been interesting and fun, and the people there so friendly. But I am happy to be back in Islamabad again - I'm not living in the guest house as I did before, and now MIED has their head office here. And I can walk to work – the freedom!!

The last few weeks in Chakwal were very interesting. As I mentioned before, I was helping out in an evaluation of one of their projects, which was great. I really enjoyed doing the field work and seeing some of the work that MIED had achieved – particularly new school buildings, running water and toilets are available in nearly all of the schools now. And talking to the communities was great – some of them were so motivated and had raised thousands of rupees for their school’s development. In one community until recently the only water they had was from rain and natural pools. The animals drank and swam in it, and the community used it for drinking. But 3 months ago the government built a pipeline to the village. And in May the community organised themselves to build a link from the pipeline to the school 3 km away. It took them a week to achieve this! Completely brilliant. Who says development is all about dependency and handouts?

Then after the data collection we started work on data analysis and writing up the report, which we achieved in mega quick time because of the need to move to Islamabad. I don’t think an evaluation report has ever been written so quickly (but that doesn’t mean that it isn’t of very high quality!). I and the guy I did it with enjoyed doing it so much that we are now on the hunt for more evaluations….

Unfortunately Plan has decided to pull out of Mansehra completely, which leaves us with a major funding crisis. We will try to find new donors for our projects, but it is all pretty stressful. We are working with over 20,000 children in Mansehra so it will be gutting if we have to close all the projects. It seems that many INGOs are coming to the final stages of their support in the earthquake-affected regions, so I don’t think it is going to be easy. But there is still huge need in those areas – most schools in Balakot are still operating out of tents. And we are running 100 ECCD centres for the very young children in two valleys – we can’t just leave them.

This is going to be a completely new phase for MIED, as with all the previous projects it was the donor who approached us, rather than the other way around. The only slightly relevant experience I have is writing the funding rejection letters for Tearfund – so I know exactly how to approach donors to ensure that they WON’T give money, but how to do it so they will….?! Though I had a networking opportunity the other day – someone from the Northern Areas was on our balcony and noticed someone else on a neighbouring balcony also from the Northern Areas. They established through a loud conversation that both offices had Europeans working there, so we were invited around for cold drinks. It was an INGO and they knew all about MIED and our work, and even said that they would have been happy to work with us, but they are leaving the country next month. Grrrr.

So life is kinda interesting. I’m going to the Northern Areas next week with some friends who I haven’t seen for ages, and their baby, which is v exciting!! I can’t wait. But on Friday we got a security email from VSO saying not to arrange any travel early next week as we might have to hibernate. Hmmm. Also I’ve left ALL my cold weather clothes in Chakwal and I don’t think the temperature at 3000m is going to be exactly the same as Islamabad. Talking of which, it has been so hot that the front of my Ipod has melted. Anyway, I’m trying to develop the Pakistani attitude: kya masle hai? Ye Pakistan hai, sab chalte hai. What problem? This is Pakistan, everything is possible.

Daily life in Chakwal continued....

I realised I might have come across as slightly cynical in my last blog entry (probably a result of the heat), but I am really enjoying my time in Chakwal. Things have been very interesting recently as we are doing an evaluation of the impact that MIED has had in 30 schools here.

And I am really enjoying living in the hostel as well. We make our own entertainment in the evenings, which involves quite a lot of singing, and some dancing. Group singing is slightly problematic as the only song I have in common with the others is Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. But I’ve also been able to conclude that VSO have had a lasting impact in Pakistan – a lady currently at MIED used to work with VSOs in the Northern Areas several years ago. And the other night she came out with ‘Peter Piper picked a pack of pickled peppers’ that she remembered from them!! Pretty good. And the other people in the hostel were so helpful and good to me when I was ill – running around and getting mineral water and things. It is a really lovely aspect of Pakistani culture that when someone is ill everyone really helps and puts themselves out.

And I’ve been slowly getting to know different areas of Chakwal. There is an old train station quite near our office – a legacy from the Raj. It is used for cricket matches now. Shopping for basic food items is interesting – there are many many tiny shops scattered around – some of which just sell a few vegetables, but others of which have quite a variety of things. And a woman owns a small shop very near the hostel.

Chakwal district is very varied and beautiful – there are the plains where crops are grown, particularly wheat. And there are also the mountains which are very dry – you can easily see the sandstone which is all different colours from deep red to yellow. Driving around to the different schools during the evaluation has meant I have seen a lot more of the area. Some photos of Chakwal:

Cricket at the old railway station.

Having a few problems getting up the hill. I was very sorry that it was completely culturally inappropriate for me to help push.

They managed the hill fine though!

Walking to a school through a town in Chakwal district (I can't remember its name!)

Rain!!

Pakistan for the uninitiated:

Causes of confusion between Pakistan and the UK:

In the UK when you flash your lights to another car it (usually) means please come on. Whereas in Pakistan people flash their lights when they want to say ‘everyone, out of my way, coming through at high speed’. So when a car overtakes it flashes its lights at any oncoming cars expecting them to swerve onto the side of the road, never mind any passing pedestrians, cyclists, donkeys or fruit stalls.

When people say you are looking smart, it means you are looking thin. On the other hand, if someone says you are looking healthy, the ultimate compliment in the UK, here it is a polite way of saying you are fat.

When making a phone call the ringing tone in Pakistan is EXACTLY the same as the engaged tone in the UK. When I first came I put the phone down a fair few times before I twigged.

And at Chakwal’s main traffic junction there are four roads and ONE set of traffic lights. That is not one set of lights for each road, but just one set of lights. But life continues and people manage to travel in an out of Chakwal daily. Ye Pakistan hai. Sab chalte hai. This is Pakistan. Everything is possible.

Let me now up date you as to my culinary efforts. The war against the ants continues. I put down huge amounts of ant powder so now my cooking is complicated by that, the ants, the fact that the surface is a lovely mottled grey colour so I can’t see where either the ants or the ant power are, and several more dead hornets in the sink. I’m seriously considering admitting defeat and eating with the others. Don't get me wrong - I really like Pakistani food, but they eat at 9.30 every evening which is too late. And I have to say eating chappattis three times a day sometimes gets a bit much. And I’m actually trying to be vegetarian again as when we were travelling down the motorway the other week I saw a travelling cage with many chickens in, and it was truly horrible. The chickens were hanging out of their cages which were so small they couldn’t move, and some of them were already dead.

In my last blog I omitted to explain anything about Chakwal and where it is. Well, it is a town about the same size as Mansehra in the northern Punjab, two hours south of Islamabad. In other respects it is completely different to Mansehra though. It is much more of an agricultural town – you can always see farmers coming in with their donkeys and crops and things. And there is a lot of ‘urban agriculture’ – behind the hostel there are fields that previously were used solely as rubbish dumps, but have recently been ploughed. And I think I am the only foreigner here – people stare a lot, whereas in Mansehra because of the earthquake they were used to foreigners. And finally, Chakwal is HOT. It is so hot, the kind of heat I haven’t experienced before. The hostel attracts heat like a greenhouse – it is one level with a flat roof, so the sun beats down on the roof all day and then radiates the heat all night so my room is like an oven the whole time. The fans are very good at moving around hot air. But it is even worse when the power goes off (at least 4 times a day) because of the energy crisis. I thought it was bad in Mansehra when I was reduced to sitting in the dark staring at a gas fire in the evenings, but it is infinitely worse here when the fans go off. The other night I was so baked that I went out on the roof and tried to sleep. Sleep escaped me but the stars were amazing. But I decided not to do that again cos I counted 43 mosquito bites the next day. And now, amazing people in the hostel have got a water cooler working in my room which is the best invention known to man.

And yesterday there was rain! I tell you, I have never felt that happy about rain before in my life. We were walking home from work and I got completely soaked. The rain drops were so big, and the bizarrest thing – some of it was hail!! And at the same time the puddles were hot because of the heat from the pavement. And also, I now have the foolproof way how to get rid of colds…. I caught a cold on Friday (don’t know how in 40 degrees of heat, but I still managed it). So all day yesterday I was snivelling away, and then got completely soaked in the rain, and then had to sit for half an hour in soaking clothes waiting for someone who had run away with our keys. (I was steaming in more sense than one!!) But then my cold went!! Don’t get it (probably this is a case of don’t try this back home - might not work so well….)

On Sunday I was able to get to a local Catholic church. It was good though I didn’t understand a word. The church was held in a room which was brightly decorated with streamers and things. The music was great - two women sat at the front and sang and there was a harmonium and drums, and the church was really full. There is also a Protestant church in Chakwal so I’ll give that a go soon (not that the language problem will be solved at all by doing that). Re language, I’ve decided heat affects the brain so it is impossible to learn a new language when it is over 40 degrees.

I've just put up loads new photos on the flickr site, (though they are slightly mixed up between snow in Oxford and the heat of Chakwal...)

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...