Lahore - living in the posh area Gulberg

30 may - 8 june 05

Assalam aleykum,

I am still in Lahore enjoying every day, every hour, every second. I love to “seize the day”, without plans, without knowing what will happen the next day or even the next hour. Inchallah it will be wonderful. “Inchallah” means: “if it is Allah’s/God’s will”. I don’t mind about the name of this supernatural power, its a nice idiom and perfectly suiting to Pakistan.
“Inchallah it will be, and if not – its not our fault, it wasn’t Allah’s will!”
I am happy I can live with this kind of uncertainty, which is always required in Europe. Otherwise I couldn’t stand Pakistan I think 
There are no real time schedules, no exact time, just a vague meaning of a certain – or uncertain period which is always stretchable. But right this stretching makes it so easygoing, you gain much more quality in life. Stress factor seems to be zero – if there isn’t just a horning car speeding towards you with no signs to slow down – or if you don’t need to get something through in a short period of time – that a bad position here, but it only increases your own stress level – not the others’.
The days are colourful and changing, sometimes I stroll in the Bazaar, try to find some things I need, be surprised at every corner; sometimes I just hang around at home, hiding inside because of the heat, have hot water showers all hours; sometimes we all go out to eat or cook at home, or friends bring street food dinner with them to spend an enjoyable evening together; sometimes we go for these great fruit shakes, so delicious and extremely cheap – yes its still unsafe, there is ice and milk and water inside, the hygienic conditions, well I don’t want to observe them, but I can’t think of safety with a strawberry or mango fruit juice in front of me. I just have to drink it, and another one, another one, another one…

Last week 2 Swiss guys visited us for 2 nights. They came with their Landcruiser speeding from Switzerland via Iran + Turkey, but in minimum time. They went on for Delhi to bring the car to one of the guys’ son. In 2 weeks they will come again.
We went to the old city with them, Chandbhai made them drive inside the old city. “Now you are in the centre of the centre of Lahore” he grinned. I never thought that one can drive there. Well, it’s not really driving, it’s crawling and speeding in the mysteriously appearing empty spaces between people, animals, Rikshaws, bikes, bicycles, … to get stuck again.
Again we visited the Badshai Mosque, the biggest and most famous in Lahore. After that we hang around in the bazaar, then drove out again. I was watching the buzzing life on the other side of my window as a butcher smiled at me.
In his left hand he had a big knife, blinking in the sunlight. His right hand held a chicken’s throat – with the living chicken. Everyone except me knew what would happen – the butcher and the chicken and all the people on the road. Without motion, even without turning his head he cut the chicken’s throat with a fast move and threw the still flattering hen in a big container. He saw my surprised look, which made the killer smile even more. A smile that said: “Well, that’s how it is here. At your country, they don’t get this personal treatment, do they? And – didn’t you like the chicken kebab yesterday?”
I again start thinking of becoming vegetarian, but to leave chicken kebab with lemon and fresh Naan? Never!
In the evening I attend my first Urdu lesson. Urdu is the official language of Pakistan, implemented by the British to gain more control of the administrative branches.
Sometimes it seems to me, that I don’t learn new words, but just remember them from long lost times. Maybe I have been living in India or Pakistan in one of my last lives… 
It’s quite difficult to read through different teaching books as Urdu script is not Latin and everyone who tries to translate it has its own opinion of how this word has to look like in Latin script…
Anyway, it’s great fun!
Thursday evening we went for the Sufi Nite, which I have already attended at my first visit in Lahore. The spectators sit on the floor, slightly moving their body. Only real Sufi are allowed to dance – let alone women. I sat there with Pierre, trying hard not to raise and start dancing. My head started moving on its own, the music grew louder and faster, my head flew away with it. I am totally one with the rhythm of the drums. Only when the musicians slow down I notice, that my dupata (scarf) had slipped away. Some of the men around me smiled friendly, some just stared, but most of them were lost in their own thoughts. The dervishes were banging there heads, stamping their feet, shaking their deep black hair madly from one side to the other, their eyes fixing a point at the horizon, far far away – sometimes in extase, sometimes slow and relaxed.
I could stay for hours and listen, but I always feel tension inside and look forward to come home to be able to dance myself there.

The shower at home was nice, even if it’s hot. The water is stuck in the pipes and tanks for the whole day and almost starts boiling. No real refreshment. A little trick: get dried by the fan – it lasts at least 15 min.

The nights start getting hot and hotter, sometimes we sleep outside, or inside or upstairs or downstairs, with mosquito net, without mosquito net always searching for a bearable place to spend the night. AC is available in the house, but electricity is expensive and as soon as you start that thing, you get used and addicted, do better get used to the heat and bear it! It will take me another month or so! I am always happy, if there are “only” 30 degrees at night which happens maybe once a week.
The weekend we spent without much program, just relax, cook, hang round, meet some friends. Saturday evening Pierre and me went to Chitrkar, a art school, where a Christian gospel singer was announced. We were late, everything was over, but some people were still sitting in the painting room. We joined and a musician started a solo flute concert for the remaining guests. It was wonderful, the sound carried me away, slowly up and down like swimming on a never-ending wave of harmony. Sometimes I open my eyes and watch the people. I don’t want to talk, just fly away and watch people. I always learn so much just in watching them, from their body language, their expressions on their faces, their way of talking. No need to talk myself. No time – the music already carries me away and makes my thoughts go astray.
I am happy we were late – no, not late: right in time!

Sunday evening Andreas and me met Chandbhai, who finally wants to go on his new mission: Find a wife. A friend of him will bring him to Buni, near Chitral, where I have also once been, there they should find a girl for him. Andreas was supposed to bring him to the public bus station, Chandbhai told us, that the bus would leave at 9pm. We arrived at 8pm at his place only to learn that the bus leaves at 10pm, but Chandbhai wanted to see us a bit longer. Till 10:00 there was no real sign of movement within the group, they had to wait again for someone else. Buses leave all hours. In the meantime we tried to find out, what kind of woman he wants. We suggested: humorous, with light in her eyes, fit, interested and open minded. “What’s that? What’s that kind of cross questioning? She has to bear me some children. Anything else doesn’t matter. She can go out if she wants, I will teach her English if she likes, but why worry about these things now? You westerners have strange visions of marriage.” “Well, you Muslims too”, I thought but not aloud. At 10:30 Andreas and me left them. They would have to find an other transport – they don’t mind. That’s the kind of stretching time I meant at the beginning.

On Monday I started my volunteer work at the SOS Children’s Village in Lahore. I will give lessons on computer to the office ladies who don’t even know how to write a letter or an email and in the afternoon I will do some creative projects with the girls there. I am really looking forward to work with kids and teens again. I really miss this time in Salzburg.

Today is Wednesday, my second day of work. The main thing is to motivate the girls and ladies in the office. They don’t really want to waste their time with useless things like computer work. They rather prefer reading lifestyle magazines and chat. On Monday, there were only 2 of them around, and in between several cups of tea and rounds of chat I managed to convince one of them to start at least with outlook express to answer the full mailbox and get rid of junk and spam. She was very interested after a while and with her presumably 45-50 years she wrote her first email, proudly smiling and slowly searching & typing letter after letter.

In the evening I got my first real Shalwar Kameez, the traditional dress here. The Village tailor made it and she did a pretty good job. (pic) I wonder if the others will also be nice like this.

Well, I have to leave now for work,
Give me your news, what’s on?

Allah hafez

there are pics on yahoo - they are too much for this blog... if you are asked for a password: acchigom

Life in Lahore Gulberg pics