Pakistan - Lahore

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  Lahore, Pakistan
Wednesday, June 24, 2009

OK, maybe I am crazy. With the Iran plan crushed I needed someplace else to go. I opted for Pakistan. Not really the safest place to be these days, but in the two and a half days spent there I had no problems whatsoever and was very pleased with my brief visit of the troubled nation. That said, I did only spend time in Lahore near the border with India. I wasn't quite crazy enough to go touring around the country. Or maybe I'm just getting older.

Shortly after my arrival in Dubai from Kish Island I got busy working the travel agency counters in the airport for the first flight to Lahore, if there was one available. Out of sheer luck I managed to snag a direct flight that was leaving in about one hour. After a mad dash of paying, checking in and going through security I made it on board only to be delayed on the tarmac for almost one hour with no AC. Not only was I the sole Westerner on that Pakistani Air flight but me thinks it will also go down as the stinkiest flight I've ever been on.

Upon arrival at the immigration booth in Lahore I was greeted by two Pakistani women wearing a sort of half chador/abaya, half black immigration uniform. They both spoke English fairly well and seemed quite surprised to see an American with a Pakistani visa coming to their country.

'Why you come to Pakistan?' one asked.

'I'm a tourist.'

They looked at each other and spoke in Urdu for a moment then the other asked, 'You speak Urdu?'

'Uh, no.' I said smiling.

'You like Pakistan?' the original speaker asked.

'Um, yes. I think... I haven't really seen it yet.'

They giggled and one said, 'You know the situation in Pakistan now?'

'Yes, yes. I know the army is fighting the Taliban in the northwest. I'm not going there.'

'Good.' they said in unison.

'Is it safe in Lahore?' I asked a little more nervously than intended.

They both tittered and said, 'Yes, yes.'

'Are the taxis safe?' This was the question that was foremost on my mind at that moment.

'Yes! Lahore is safe for you. If you have problem call me!' one of them exclaimed loudly and then burst out laughing as she handed me my passport.

I walked away from the booth with a fresh Pakistani stamp in my passport feeling baffled. All the stories I had read about women being repressed, girls' schools getting blown up and yet these two were flirting with me like crazy. I suppose there must be a certain amount of allure for a man who comes from a much more tolerant culture with regard to women. That, or maybe it was just the beard I grew especially for this trip.

The taxi ride from the airport to my hotel in Lahore gave me my first view of Pakistan's infrastructure, if you can call it that. There were massive, massive sections of just dry uneven dirt in place of roads with no rhyme or reason guiding the myriad vehicles making there way in all directions at once. Upon entering the city itself the roads were paved, at least, and many lined with trees which I would guess give Lahore its nickname of the 'Garden City'. However, almost all of the buildings are very dilapidated and tended to give the whole city a depressing feel.

When we arrived at my hotel, The Indus Hotel, there was a security guard sitting out front looking bored and carrying a pump action shotgun. Once inside I bargained the front desk staff down about one third of the original price. It wasn't hard, it's quite likely there isn't a hotel in the whole country running at even half occupancy. There was nothing special about the room, it was adequate for the surprisingly high price of about thirty US a night. It was early evening at this point and I went out for a bite to eat and a look around the city. Walking the dimly lit – but crowded – streets of Lahore was quite nice for a couple of reasons. First, in the darkness people couldn't really tell I was a foreigner and they never looked twice. Second, it was a heck of a lot cooler. Eventually my ambling brought me to a restaurant called the Salt and Pepper. Upon entering all activity stopped and the waiter ushered me to a massive booth where I sat alone and was treated like royalty. The food consisted of chicken, chicken and more chicken. Oh, and there was some rice, too. Not very original but tasty nonetheless.

The next day was a busy one that started off with disappointment. The Lahore Museum was closed for some unknown reason. I was only able to stand at the gate and take a few pictures of the beautiful red brick building. From there it was on to the old city which was filled with narrow winding streets filled with all sorts of sights and smells that could have easily belonged in a previous century. The people were all very friendly, if a bit shocked by my presence, and helped me navigate through the maze of alleys on my way to two of Lahore's best sights.

No trip to Lahore would be complete without visiting the Lahore Fort and the Badshahi Mosque. Both sights are separated by a large, and compared to the old city, tranquil courtyard. I took a few photos and made my way to the mosque entrance where, after removing my shoes, it opened into an even larger courtyard that can reportedly accommodate up to 100,000 people praying. The absolutely enormous red sandstone courtyard was surrounded by four towering minarets at each corner and had nothing in it but empty space and a very beautiful three domed mosque shooting up from its opposite end. In an excited rush to take pictures I had made my way off of the main (carpeted) walking path and quickly realized my mistake when my bare feet started to burn on the sandstone. Half running and half hopping I sprinted to the mosque where an old Pakistani man was shouting at me, 'Hurry up! Hot! Hot!'

The old man turned out to be a con man-cum-tour guide for the mosque. He gave me a bit of information about the place in his nearly indecipherable English and then showed me a few tricks with regard to the acoustics of the place. In the end, he made about three bucks worth of Pakistani rupees off me and I ignored him as he sad faced me for more. Nearby, sitting in the cool shade of the interior of the mosque, was a large family of Pakistanis who stood up when I walked past them and one of their group came forward and asked me if I was a foreigner. I said yes and soon there was a line up to get a picture taken with the foreigner. In the time I spent in Lahore I saw only one other Westerner in the city so it's not surprising that this sort of thing would happen. At the end of the photo session the young man who had originally approached me ran up as I was walking away and said, 'I very happy meeting. Take. Take.' He handed me a couple of small packets with candy mints in them. I took them so as not to insult him and thanked him profusely.

From the mosque I made my way across the central courtyard over to the Lahore Fort. The centuries old fort has been the centerpiece of Lahore since its creation. Though the structure itself is noteworthy, I think it's one of those places where the history is much more impressive than the building on its own. It was built about 450 years ago by Emperor Akbar, one of the legendary Mughal leaders at that time when Lahore was the capital of his empire.

My final stop for the day was also in the general vicinity and only a short stroll away. Iqbal park is just across the street from the area that comprises the Badshahi Mosque and Lahore Fort. The park is pretty standard with various local folks strolling around, or on that particular day, looking for shady spots to lounge in out of the heat. Its one discerning feature is the Minar-i-Pakistan, a tower of perhaps two hundred feet that commemorates the creation of Pakistan. My guidebook stated that you could ride a lift to the top for some great views, but it appears the tower, like the museum, is closed for the time being.

The next day, my final day in Pakistan, presented me with the best sight of this trip so far. It was just over sixty years ago when Pakistan was partitioned off of India by the British to give Indian Muslims their own state. (I'm not sure if a lot of Westerners realize that Pakistan is in many ways Muslim India.)This partitioning, incidentally, was a disaster that cost hundreds of thousands of people their lives and displaced many more than that. It also created what must be the most bizarre border closing ceremony on the entire planet. It's no secret that India and Pakistan (both nuclear powers) hate each other. Bill Clinton once declared that border area the most dangerous in the world with mounting tensions over territory disputes regarding Kashmir. Well, if you want to see that tension personified you need only visit the Wagah/Attari borders of Pakistan and India for the daily border closing ceremony that has been taking place rain or shine for the past sixty plus years. And folks, this is a spectacle.

On both sides of the border each country has set up massive bleacher stands to accommodate cheering, rowdy crowds of incredibly patriotic Pakistanis and Indians. In the center of all this is a single paved road which not only provides a crossing from one country to the next (a crossing I would use the next day) but a stage for the Pakistani and Indian soldiers to strut their stuff and try to out macho the soldiers on the other side as they both prepare to simultaneously lower their nations' flags. Not surprisingly, the Indian side, which I could see over the gate, had a much larger set of bleachers. As a foreigner, I had been ushered up to the VIP bleacher section that is literally right along side the paved road just in front of the gate that separates the two rival countries.

When I took a seat at my very privileged spot I was overwhelmed by the number of Pakistanis flooding in and getting pumped up for the ceremony to come. Naturally, men had one set of bleachers, and women another. Music that I assumed was patriotic was blaring from loudspeakers and three cheerleaders, all male of course, were running up and down on the road/stage waving huge green and white Pakistani flags. One of them was a young boy, another around thirty and the last was quite elderly. They were apparently covering their cheerleading demographics. After several minutes of growing excitement a man came on the loudspeaker and stirred the crowd up further by shouting 'Pakistan!' to which the crowd would reply 'Zindabad!' I was later told this means long live Pakistan.

With the crowds on both sides in a near frenzy, the stars of this whacky show finally made their appearances. Eight Pakistani soldiers dressed in absolutely striking black, red fringed dress uniforms goose stepped their way down the road toward the border gate. The crowd went ballistic. From my vantage point I could not see what was happening on the road over on the Indian side as the gate was still closed, but judging by the reaction of the crowd the Indian soldier counterparts had made their appearance as well. The Pakistani soldiers who were representing their country that day marched right past me and it was clear that these fellows had been hand picked for this particular gig. I would wager that every one of them was six foot plus and they all had a certain fit burliness to them that was no coincidence. After a fair bit of ridiculously over the top goose stepping (I'm sorry, but lifting your foot impossibly high into the air and then stomping it down on the ground is just silly) the gate was finally opened revealing the Indian soldiers in contrasting tan uniforms on the other side. If there had been any doubt about choreography for this event between the two nations it was dispelled when the two unit commanders approached one another with their exaggerated goose steps and then very quickly shook hands and saluted before about facing and moving back to their respective nations. The ceremony came to a conclusion once both countries had lowered their flags and the gates were then emphatically slammed shut.

When trying to draw comparisons, for me personally, the closest thing I could come up with was American college football. The only major difference being that in place of team loyalty and pride was sheer, unbridled patriotism. I couldn't help but think of a Texas-Oklahoma game with both sides being split down the middle and shouting something either prideful or derogatory. Seeing an event like this as a completely neutral observer, however, really makes you realize how incredibly silly patriotism/nationalism (not to mention sports team loyalty) can be sometimes. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being proud of your country. But there can definitely be something worrisome with being too proud of your country.

So that was my last experience in Pakistan, and what an experience it was. It is unlikely that the pictures I took will come anywhere near capturing the energy that was present that day, and that has been present there for more than six decades at that border. But that's OK because what I saw at that border does not represent Pakistan. Impressive border ceremonies aside, Pakistan has got some serious problems. And I will sum up those problems in two areas: rampant corruption by the Pakistani elite and a nearly complete lack of education of the common people. It always seems to come back to this. I've seen it in so many places in this world. If your government has put you in a position where, as an adult, signing your own name is a challenge, you can count on being a victim to someone – like the Pakistani elite. Or even worse, find yourself siding with some equally uneducated fanatical bully like the Taliban.

Obviously I don't blame the common people of Pakistan for this. I blame their government and leaders who have generally been greedy scum throughout Pakistan's relatively short existence. And I am including the current Pakistani president, Zardari, widower of the recently assassinated former Prime Minister Benazir Bhutto. I will never condone violence, but I can certainly understand why this woman was killed by a bomb blast while campaigning. How much can you steal? How many millions of lives can you deprive an education just to keep your elite group in power?

Anyway, I digress. Pakistan was an education for me, as expected, and now I look forward to exploring India next...

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