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PAKISTAN

JANUARY 2007 & FEBRUARY 2008


In a country with a bad reputation, a sign reminds people to look out for themselves.

"Hey! Are you scared?" a loud voice bellowed from behind me as I meandered through the narrow streets of Lahore's old city. Despite his almost perfect enunciation, I kept walking without missing a beat as if I hadn't heard a thing.

"HEY! ARE YOU SCARED?" This time the voice was louder and closer.

I whipped around and saw a clean-cut Pakistani man towering above me. I looked at him straight in the eyes and asked, "Why should I be scared?"

He looked perplexed. "Because Pakistan is a very dangerous country," he stated as if I had been asleep for the last hundred years.

"That's what I've read in all the newspapers and magazines," I responded, "but I wanted to see for myself if it was really true."

He let out a breath and said with genuine concern, "Please be careful."

I shook his hand, turned around, and continued walking.

So, The Economist, in an effort to boost circulation, recently declared on its front page that Pakistan is "The World's Most Dangerous Place." I guess that's a great head-turner for commuters rushing through an airport, but I just don't believe it. No matter where you are in the world, if you go looking for trouble, you're probably going to find it. Are there terrorists and suicide bombers here? Yes. Can Pakistan ever become a democracy? Maybe. Is what happens here important to the rest of the world? Absolutely. Is everyone who visits destined to be murdered? Only if you believe everything the mainstream media tells you. Maybe the stuffy writers of The Economist -- especially the ones who write articles that never seem to end -- should pay a visit to Camden, NJ.

I crossed into Pakistan at the major border post with India at Wagah. For me, coming alone into Pakistan was like jumping into a really cold pool. I knew the first several hours would be a major adjustment, but once I got used to it, it would be a warm swim in wavy waters. The border facilities were modern and efficient, and the authorities on both sides were friendly and professional.

The big news in Pakistan was the upcoming Feb. 18 elections. Would they be free and fair? Would there be violence and how bad would it be? Would the assassination of Benazir Bhutto ensure a victory for her People's Pakistan Party (PPP)? Would anything change? Could things actually get better in Pakistan? Could things possibly get worse? And why is President Musharraf's party symbolized by a bicycle?

There are two ways of interpreting the security situation in Pakistan -- either as good as one can hope for or downright bad. I could make arguments on both sides. There were times when police always seemed to be around, and other times I wondered where the hell they were. The United States has given billions of dollars to the Pakistani government since 9/11, so why isn't this place more secure? At least now I know why all the police were so friendly to me. We're paying their salaries.

There were very few foreigners here, and the number of Americans was tiny. Foreigners in Pakistan are an incredibly interesting breed, but one thing is for sure...none of them are normal. One of the two Americans I came into contact with was a stoner from Texas who was taking advantage of the stunningly low cost of living. He was chased around a city by undercover police who he believed were imposters. He wound up losing half the day at the police station and was quite proud of the story.

I spent a good deal of time traveling with Eric and Sara of Iceland. Eric was an aspiring war journalist and photographer; Sara was a bright, adorable girl who would serve her nation well as an ambassador in some far-flung nation. The small nation of Iceland should have tremendous pride in them.

I didn't have much trouble in Pakistan. The locals were mostly friendly and curious while occasionally incredulous. Here are some of my memorable moments:

  • On my first day in Lahore I was walking around a busy business district. Several gunshots went off and hundreds of people stopped what they were doing and gravitated to the area to figure out what happened. I never sorted it out.

  • While at Benazir Bhutto's chehlum ceremony, I witnessed what appeared to be a crowd dragging a man out of the Bhutto family mausoleum and beating him.

  • While walking alone in Larkana, a young man tried to impress his friends by running toward me with a long foreign object in his hands. He was laughing long after I jumped out of his way. I said a few words to him, watched his face turn white, then strolled back to my hotel.

  • While having dinner with a poor family in Lahore, I spilled my tea and essentially ruined the tablecloth. The mother pointed to the spill and said the mess was a metaphor for the whole of Pakistan, so there was no need to be upset by it.

  • While riding economy class on a train from Multan to Rohri Junction, I looked up and saw about 10 men standing above me. It was briefly alarming, but all they really wanted to do was talk and have their picture taken.

  • While on a train from Lahore to Multan, a man sitting across from me told me I was beautiful. He proceeded to stare at me. I took a nap and when I woke up, he was still staring at me. This man stared at me longingly for about five hours until he mercifully arrived at his destination. He never even said goodbye. I felt so used.

  • On the train from Karachi to Lahore, two transvestites jumped into my sleeper compartment. Never one to miss a photo opportunity, I took out my camera and offered 20 rupees (33 cents) for a picture. One of them grabbed the money, then they both ran away before I could get the picture. I chased them down the corridor, and one of them jumped out of the moving train; I leaned out of the train and snapped a picture. The other was taking a lot longer to jump off the train. With camera in hand, I tapped him/her on the shoulder, but he/she didn't turn around. I then lifted my foot to his/her behind and was 100% certain if I kicked him/her off the moving train that nobody would ever shed a tear. Needless to say, I restrained myself. They were bad businessmen/women, because I would have gladly offered ten times the money for some funny pictures, if they had only stuck around.

  • I paid for a business class sleeper cabin for the 21-hour train ride from Karachi to Lahore. It was comfortable and lacked the mayhem of economy class. I would have slept like baby except for the woman with sleep apnea snorting and gasping her way through the night.

  • A successful businessman in Karachi gave Sara and me a ride back from the beach. He was horrified when he heard where we were staying. I couldn't figure out why he was so worried about us. He was the one who lived in the terror-prone city.

    Need a break from "The World's Most Dangerous Place?" Have lunch or dinner at Pizza Hut. They were easy enough to find and cost a fraction of what it would at home. Or go to the large McDonald's in Lahore. It's conveniently across the street from the mammoth cardiology center.


    Call to prayer at Badshahi Mosque, Lahore.


    This man took an eight-hour bus ride from Karachi to participate in a
    ceremony observing the end of Benazir Bhutto's 40-day mourning period.


    An estimated 10,000 people showed up to pay respects to Benazir Bhutto
    and show their continuing support for the Pakistan People's Party (PPP).


    "Dancing girls" in the Heera Mandi district of Lahore's old city.


    Eric of Iceland takes a rest while waiting for the first morning bus to Larkana.


    A typical Pakistani bus (Karachi)


    A school in Multan. Many people in Pakistan speak some English.


    Beggars patiently wait for some spare scraps on a Sunday morning in Karachi.


    At the Karachi Zoo, some people will do anything for money.


    This guy in Lahore has no issue with his masculinity.


    A smile breaks through the tough exterior.


    A colorful, but tired old man makes his way down a street in Karachi.


    Some men use orange dye on their hair and beards in Pakistan.


    In Multan, schoolgirls filled the streets in the afternoon. (Photo by Sara Kristin)


    A woman enjoys a peaceful moment on
    Clifton Beach (on the Arabian Sea) in Karachi.


    A ferret chews on a snake without killing it at Clifton Beach, Karachi.


    Sara rides a camel on Clifton Beach, Karachi


    A young girl sells flowers for 10 rupees (17 cents) on Clifton Beach, Karachi.


    A tranny laughs after jumping off a moving train with my 20 rupees. (Near Karachi)


    He knows not what he wears. (Lahore)