Flying out of the tiny airport of Gilgit under a clear blue sky we could easily spot popular sights such as Nangar Parbat and the Horseshoe Lake.
We landed in Islamabad ahead of time, caught the taxi to the bus station and waited there patiently for our departure. The shia muslims of this city were still mourning (see Muhurram) and hence many processions had forced the traffic to stop, so all previous buses had been canceled.
The 4 hours ride to Lahore were overly pleasant, sitting in the front row with max leg space and admiring the plains of Punjab region. I was especially surprised of the well maintained and empty highway that connected the 2 cities: 4 lanes and no potholes!
We arrived in Lahore on time but also here the shia muslims were active so our pick-up delegation couldn't get through the blocked roads. And of course no 2 unaccompagnied ladies would catch a taxi after dark in this country!
Eventually we made it, arriving at Maryam's cousin's house and being welcomed by 7 more family members and a deliciously tender mutton for dinner.
The weekend turned out to be the usual shopping-sightseeing-entertainment-dining-out-action, but everything in the frame of a Muslim country with it's strict rules and idiosyncrasies and with a very warm-hearted family as my guide. So let me summarize for you, what I learned this weekend.
What I learned about Pakistani families:
Assuming that the family I learnt to know is normal, I found myself in the middle of a bunch of 2 generations, men and women casually interacting with each other. Like in every middle-class family over here there were servants who did the cooking, so nobody had to spend their time in the kitchen. In fact, most of the time we spend in someone's bedroom, be it for morning tea or for getting ready to go out at night. While one person was getting ready in the bathroom, the other 8 sat together on the bed or the opposite lounge chair to chat, giggle and play up... just like in every other family anywhere else in the world. There was no reservation between family member, it was a cuddling and teasing. And most remarkably the men (in this setting all below their mid twenties) were nothing but polite, charming, sensitive and pure gentlemen. So I wonder, where does that impression of a macho-regimented Muslim family come from?
What I learned about Pakistani society:
All above described happens behind closed doors, in the sacred community of the family. That's why family plays such an important role in Muslim society, because outside these circle of trust, everyone is considered an enemy. Be it a clerk in the service industry, a shop seller or just a person on the street, the Pakistani approach is to be unfriendly, don't smile, be bold, don't show weakness, get your message across and try to minimize contact. Such a difference to the happy, intimate family life!
And now I also understand why women cover up as much as possible, to reduce any kind of attention. Any attention from outside means a potential threat. So, show no skin (not even arms), no shape, cover your body in cloths to hide every bum, cover your hair (not mandatory) and always, always have a male family member next to you showing everybody that you are protected!
And even more surprised I was later on, when I learned that there is a red-light district in Lahore called Heera Mandi (which means Diamond Market)! We went out there for dinner at a restaurant displaying artwork of a guy who was born in one of the whorehouses and penciled and painted everyday scenes.
I learned that prostitutes are officially dancers and yes, they still wear the traditional outfit (I mean traditional Pakistani, not traditional prostitute) and men can hire them to dance "with happy end" as I would put it.
Unfortunately they even sticked to the official mourning, so nothing was going on that night.
What I learned about shopping in Pakistan:
As you can imagine there are not many western tourists in Pakistani and accordingly I raised a lot of attention in the streets of Lahore. Suddenly everybody shouted something in English trying to catch my attention, people were gaping and children couldn-t turn their heads away. I was happy to be heavily guarded by my entourage, so nobody had a chance to come close to me, be it for selling or for stealing something.
I felt like I made someone happy just by looking at their stuff.
But when it got down to business I left the talking to my 8 shopping assistants who told the shopseller how much of a rubbish quality his scarfs are and that one in turn tried to convince them of the opposite. It's probably the same in every bazaar of the world, they show you stuff you are not really interested in instead of asking you what you want. I was forced to sit down and tons of scrafs were opened in front of my eyes, the shopseller was making every effort to show me everything he has in his shop and everybody was talking Urdu to each other which made me just a sidekick... but I enjoyed it :-) At the end of all the insulting, dispraising and bargaining I had a beautiful Pashmina scarf and authentic leather slippers.
The latter turned out to dissolve after 2 hours of wearing them, so we went back to the shop and the insulting started again... (Luckily nobody dared insulting my feet for destroying the shoes)
Can you imagine 3 ladies grumbling in this hard, loud Urdu language and trying for 20 minutes to squeeze out my money from this guy? Unfortunately it didn't work, but the experience was priceless.
In the scarf shop:
(the knees on the right edge also belong to my entourage ;-)
Inside the shoe shop:
Outside the shoe shop:
Dining out in Pakistan:
Breakfast (to be on the safe side we brought our own crocery)
Tea
Dinner at the rooftop of Coco's Den
How it is to be a tourist in Pakistan:
For some reason I thought it is a disadvantage to raise so much attention as a western tourist, but when we came to visit the Lahore fort it turned out to be of good use. The fort was officially closed as it was taken over by lots of army soldiers who needed to be present to watch the mourning processions of the shia muslims and to avoid any clashes with the sunni muslims, which is apparently a historical must.
So, I expected that in such fierce times nobody would want to have a conspicuous tourist around.
But it was the contrary: because I was obviously no muslim they would allow me in the fort as I wouldn't be endangered anyway. And because no woman should go alone, my whole entourage was allowed as well. After a thorough ID check, a confidential examination of our male companion Faizan who had to tell them on my behalf what I was doing there and some "money for tea", we were allowed in and enjoyed the huge fort almost for ourselves.
Enjoying the views
Looking down
Looking up
Looking across
Group pics
We landed in Islamabad ahead of time, caught the taxi to the bus station and waited there patiently for our departure. The shia muslims of this city were still mourning (see Muhurram) and hence many processions had forced the traffic to stop, so all previous buses had been canceled.
The 4 hours ride to Lahore were overly pleasant, sitting in the front row with max leg space and admiring the plains of Punjab region. I was especially surprised of the well maintained and empty highway that connected the 2 cities: 4 lanes and no potholes!
We arrived in Lahore on time but also here the shia muslims were active so our pick-up delegation couldn't get through the blocked roads. And of course no 2 unaccompagnied ladies would catch a taxi after dark in this country!
Eventually we made it, arriving at Maryam's cousin's house and being welcomed by 7 more family members and a deliciously tender mutton for dinner.
The weekend turned out to be the usual shopping-sightseeing-entertainment-dining-out-action, but everything in the frame of a Muslim country with it's strict rules and idiosyncrasies and with a very warm-hearted family as my guide. So let me summarize for you, what I learned this weekend.
What I learned about Pakistani families:
Assuming that the family I learnt to know is normal, I found myself in the middle of a bunch of 2 generations, men and women casually interacting with each other. Like in every middle-class family over here there were servants who did the cooking, so nobody had to spend their time in the kitchen. In fact, most of the time we spend in someone's bedroom, be it for morning tea or for getting ready to go out at night. While one person was getting ready in the bathroom, the other 8 sat together on the bed or the opposite lounge chair to chat, giggle and play up... just like in every other family anywhere else in the world. There was no reservation between family member, it was a cuddling and teasing. And most remarkably the men (in this setting all below their mid twenties) were nothing but polite, charming, sensitive and pure gentlemen. So I wonder, where does that impression of a macho-regimented Muslim family come from?
What I learned about Pakistani society:
All above described happens behind closed doors, in the sacred community of the family. That's why family plays such an important role in Muslim society, because outside these circle of trust, everyone is considered an enemy. Be it a clerk in the service industry, a shop seller or just a person on the street, the Pakistani approach is to be unfriendly, don't smile, be bold, don't show weakness, get your message across and try to minimize contact. Such a difference to the happy, intimate family life!
And now I also understand why women cover up as much as possible, to reduce any kind of attention. Any attention from outside means a potential threat. So, show no skin (not even arms), no shape, cover your body in cloths to hide every bum, cover your hair (not mandatory) and always, always have a male family member next to you showing everybody that you are protected!
And even more surprised I was later on, when I learned that there is a red-light district in Lahore called Heera Mandi (which means Diamond Market)! We went out there for dinner at a restaurant displaying artwork of a guy who was born in one of the whorehouses and penciled and painted everyday scenes.
I learned that prostitutes are officially dancers and yes, they still wear the traditional outfit (I mean traditional Pakistani, not traditional prostitute) and men can hire them to dance "with happy end" as I would put it.
Unfortunately they even sticked to the official mourning, so nothing was going on that night.
What I learned about shopping in Pakistan:
As you can imagine there are not many western tourists in Pakistani and accordingly I raised a lot of attention in the streets of Lahore. Suddenly everybody shouted something in English trying to catch my attention, people were gaping and children couldn-t turn their heads away. I was happy to be heavily guarded by my entourage, so nobody had a chance to come close to me, be it for selling or for stealing something.
I felt like I made someone happy just by looking at their stuff.
But when it got down to business I left the talking to my 8 shopping assistants who told the shopseller how much of a rubbish quality his scarfs are and that one in turn tried to convince them of the opposite. It's probably the same in every bazaar of the world, they show you stuff you are not really interested in instead of asking you what you want. I was forced to sit down and tons of scrafs were opened in front of my eyes, the shopseller was making every effort to show me everything he has in his shop and everybody was talking Urdu to each other which made me just a sidekick... but I enjoyed it :-) At the end of all the insulting, dispraising and bargaining I had a beautiful Pashmina scarf and authentic leather slippers.
The latter turned out to dissolve after 2 hours of wearing them, so we went back to the shop and the insulting started again... (Luckily nobody dared insulting my feet for destroying the shoes)
Can you imagine 3 ladies grumbling in this hard, loud Urdu language and trying for 20 minutes to squeeze out my money from this guy? Unfortunately it didn't work, but the experience was priceless.
In the scarf shop:
Dining out in Pakistan:
Breakfast (to be on the safe side we brought our own crocery)
Tea
How it is to be a tourist in Pakistan:
For some reason I thought it is a disadvantage to raise so much attention as a western tourist, but when we came to visit the Lahore fort it turned out to be of good use. The fort was officially closed as it was taken over by lots of army soldiers who needed to be present to watch the mourning processions of the shia muslims and to avoid any clashes with the sunni muslims, which is apparently a historical must.
So, I expected that in such fierce times nobody would want to have a conspicuous tourist around.
But it was the contrary: because I was obviously no muslim they would allow me in the fort as I wouldn't be endangered anyway. And because no woman should go alone, my whole entourage was allowed as well. After a thorough ID check, a confidential examination of our male companion Faizan who had to tell them on my behalf what I was doing there and some "money for tea", we were allowed in and enjoyed the huge fort almost for ourselves.
Enjoying the views
Group pics
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