Chronicles Under Gunfire III

Chronicles Under Gunfire: A raymond-angelo.blogspot.com Event; Third of an Eight-Part Epic



Life in Pakistan wasn't easy. There were many restrictions. Certain districts were out of bounds for us; there was a risk of us getting kidnapped, or worse, killed. We were also only allowed to take taxis from a certain company; and even then, when we wanted to make a booking, we had to do it through the Brit High Comm. You never know with this taxi drivers, they said. If they see you living in a big house, they could very well kidnap you; hold you for ransom and vulgarise your body and soul...

Kidding about the part of "vulgarise your body".

Anyways, the area cordoned off from us included anything which looked remotely western, or was seen as a "symbol of the west". This included, but weren't limited to McDonalds (Gasp!), KFC (Though they did have PFC or Pakistani Fried Chicken), Pizza Hut, and even the UN Building!

I tricked people into thinking I wore a kevlar when I went out. That, in all its believablity, is false. Sorry, if I worried anyone. I'll apologise, and say..."GOTCHA BIATCH!"

I was able to visit few places when I went to the country. They were limitted; and even then, we had to wait for our Uncle Paul to finish his work. It's said that it's unsafe to go out with a woman alone. Bleah..

The house wasn't all that friendly to us during our stay, also. There were times where the electricity went off in the still of the night. It's really dark there, and cold too; heaters are needed, always. I never got out of my jeans; they're warm and comfy; I lived in them. The TV's signal isn't always reliable: it went off at the worst of times, and came back on without warning. Go figure.

And don't let me get started on the tap water.

I liked the people there. They knew only the very basic of English; but at least they were polite. They said "Thank Yous" excessively, and "Hellos" a tad too cheery; but I won't fault them for trying. Because of the language barrier, sometimes, the lines of communications broke down. They knew what they were SUPPOSED to do, but when you asked something special, like..."Put yoghurt on my Naan,", they just nod their head but actually, they fail to understand what you're saying, and don't put the yoghurt on my Naan.

WHERE'S MY YOGHURT?

I like their traditional wear; and for winter, they use a blanket to cover themselves. It's called, unimaginatively, a Man-Blanket. It looked comfy enough, I think. The people aren't at all affluent; the most high-class car I saw was the latest BMW; and that was owned by an Ex-Pat. There were sights which astounded me; a Toyota outside a tent! How can someone have a car, when they don't have a house?



As for shopping; don't let me go there. Literally, don't let me go to Pakistan to do my shopping. It's, in many ways, horrible. A typical shopping centre looks like this:


There are no proper buildings (matter of fact, tallest building there is less than 10 storeys high, which is attributed to it's proximity to a fault) in their "malls", just a collection of store houses, like the ones in Arab Street. The goods are fake; even if they claim to be real, I find it hard to believe their authenticity when you're selling Polo in a shop called "Mr Shirts". They have an affinity with "Mr": Mr Books, Mr Books Too, Mr Pizza. The souvenir shops number dozens, but they all sell the same goods; goods which are all claimed to be "unique".

Go figure.

A hangout for us was the British High Commision's Clubhouse which was inside the Diplomatic Enclave. The Diplomatic Enclave houses all the embassies in Islamabad; and the security checks to enter are strict. They have to check the bottom of the car, plus the hood, for bombs! Wild.

The Clubhouse had a computer, good food, a pool table and jolly English company. Needless to say, I liked it.


I loved the food over there. And I loved the attention to detail. Check this out; what an awesome feast. Makes me want to be hungry all over again.


We also went bowling, and even Lazer shooting, with Uncle Paul's mates. It was fun; but it would have been more fun if I was with you guys.

Any of you guys.

On other news, I started my days at ACJC today. I don't know what their stand on blogging is. It seemed strict; but that's not going to stop me from posting about it lah. I'll have to censor myself here and there, but it's better than nothing.

Orientation's been loads of fun, and I'm looking forward to a great year ahead :)

That doesn't mean I don't miss QTSS. I miss it! All of you guys! I'll come back soon; but it won't be until next week, because my orientation only ends this Saturday. Boohoo. That means I'm missing the Sec 1 Orientation and the Drama Open House.Crappert.

I'll end this with this words which I'll leave to be intentionally ambigious:
Let the light seperate you and your friend.