April 29, 2006 General Post Office (GPO) Lahore I never imagined that sending a CD by mail could be a very labourous work in Pakistan. That day I wanted to send some books and a CD of my photos to Indonesia. The post office system in Pakistan, as in India, curiously work inside and outside the building. Outside the building? Yes, in fact, half of the process of mailing have to pass these counters outside the building. There are a row of men with kiosks offering service of packing, packaging, enveloping, legal mattering, etc etc. The madam on the information desk directed me to an old man to package my books for the posting. The madam told me that this man would know anything I need to know. The book posting is quite cheap for sending books, with one requirement, the packaging should be one side opened for the checking by the post office. Then from outside I went back to the office building. The book post for sending my 1.5 kg books cost me only 166 Rs, but the man of the stamping [read more]
Lahore – Badshahi Masjid
April 27, 2006 Badshahi Mosque Lahore is burning. It was 42 yesterday, and again, 42 degree Celcius today. Walking on the street just resembled being boiled by microwave open, with the invisible waves from any directions. I got emotional. But I was not alone. I am sure that the heat makes impact to everybody’s head. I got irritate easily, and I am sure other people were also. These days were the first time I felt annoyed in Lahore. When I walked on the steet on that Sunday, when all of the shops were closed, there were a bunch of boys playing cricket on the street, seeing me, and yelled “Chinni chinni” resembled a chorus. That day I still had quite a sense of humour, that I replied, “main chini mini nahi hu, main namak hu” (“I am not sugar and stuff, I am salt!”). In Urdu, the word “chini” means “Chinese” and “sugar”. But now, with this heat and harassment, I didnt quite have sense of making fun. Because I [read more]
Lahore – Heera Mandi
April 26, 2006 It’s just next to this holy mosque “Larki marki dekaun?,” asked a man, when I passed the famous red light area of Heera Mandi on my way to the biggest mosque of Mughal dinasty, the Badshahi Mosque. What he meant was whether to show me the girls. Without me asking, he said that the price was 300 Rs only, very cheap. “Mujhe dilcaspi nahin!” (I am not interested) I said after quite a while he kept following me and trying to “sell” his comodity. “Accha!” he left me alone. The red light district of Heera Mandi, had been the place of dancing women, transexuals, and prostitutes since the era of Mughal kings. And in modern Lahore, the area is still notorious for the similar things. I was interested to learn more about this area and the life behind, but it was too risky to do research here. Heera Mandi itself looks quite normal during the day, old bazaars with small alleys, women in purdah, males wandering along the ways [read more]
Lahore – Do You Know that ….?
April 26, 2006 Watch out! Some interesting things that make Pakistan differ from Indonesia. Do you know that: 1. It’s better not to plan your shopping day in Pakistan on Sundays Because all shops, hmm, maybe not all, but most, closed on Sundays. It’s bizzare that Sunday is the only holiday in the week, and it’s the chance for office workers to shop. But, eh, all of the shops are closed. Only food maybe is easy to find on Sundays, but not any other things. I am still thinking that the habit of people sleeping and staying at homes on Sundays was made by the closing shops, or it is the other way round. Once I asked a friend, whether it was only on Sundays that people can go shopping, as in other days they busy for works. He answered, “they are not busy at all any other days, hmm…, you know how we Pakistanis work” Sundays are also not good time for shopping in Indonesia, but for contrary reason: the bazaars and malls are too crowded on weekends. 2. [read more]
Lahore – I See India Again
April 25, 2006 Across the border Yes, this is a trip to the Indian border for the famous ridiculous border ceremony of the two enemous brothers: India and Pakistan. Few months ago I attended the ceremony from the Indian side, hardly saw anything due to the huge crowds. Seeing from the different sides of the border is always interesting. It’s just a thin line on the map, some inches of line de jure, but it made the two completely different sides on right and left side. Travelling to the border from Lahore, was passing through dusty areas of uninhabited lands. The area was completely empty since the Partition, and just recently when the relation between India and Pakistan getting better, people started to inhabit the dusty land between Lahore and the border. Equally the same case for Amritsar (Indian city next to the border), but less dusty. It was hot, and dusty. The sweat mixed with the dust to form special ingredients on my wrong-seasoned garment of clothes. The border is [read more]
Khewra – The Salt Mines
April 21, 2006 The salt mine of Khewra Salt mines? For Indonesians, the concept of salt mines may be difficult to accept, as in our country the salt is produced through the drainage of sea water. But in Pakistan, it does exist the world’s second biggest salt mine on earth (the first one is in Poland). Yes, the salt is produced from the caves in the salt hills in the heart of Punjab. That was the reason led me to Chakwal, the northern gate to the salt range, not far from Rawalpindi. The town itself is not inspiring. Not far from Chakwal, there is ancient Hindu pilgrimage in Katas. Katas can be reached by public buses from Chakwal to Choa Shaden Shah (the name of this town is also interesting, as Choa in Urdu does mean ‘rat’), 25 km to southeast, continued by an easy five kilometre ride to Katas. Katas, once a very important Hindu pilgrimage, now is quite desarted after the partition of India-Pakistan, as almost no Hindus left in this area. The legend said that the [read more]
Peshawar – Travelling Alone as a Woman, Travel Experience of Lam Li
April 17, 2006 Purdah “Kenapa mereka selalu hidup dalam ketakutan? Kenapa? Kenapa?” Ini adalah pengalaman dari seorang sahabat lama seorang Malaysia, Lam Li, yang sedang melakukan perjalanan melintasi Asia dan ‘mau tak mau’ singgah di Pakistan. Sebelum masuk Pakistan dia sudah dipenuhi oleh ketakutan tentang betapa ‘seramnya’ laki-laki Paksitan terhadap perempuan. Namun Pakistan memang bukan seperti yang iya bayangkan. Pakistan bukanlah India. Orang-orang Paksitan lebih ramah dan jujur. Dia suka Pakistan, itu tak dapat ia pungkiri. Keramahtamahan Pakistan yang dimulai dari Lahore di mana dia diundang menginap oleh seorang lelaki yang baru saja dia temui di jalan, adalah sebuah sambutan yang ramah dari Pakistan. Dalam waktu lima hari tinggal bersama keluarga Lahore itulah yang mengawali penglihatannya tentang Pakistan. Sebagai perempuan, dia mempunyai akses ke sudut-sudut rumah yang tak bisa saya rengkuh dengan identitas saya sebagai laki-laki. [read more]
Darra Adam Khel – The Gun Factories
April 16, 2006 They have known bullets and guns since childhood Darra Adam Khel is a village 38 kms south of Peshawar, on the way to Kohat. It looked like a normal village of Pakistan border, but somehow resemble Afghanistan villages also. It looked normal along the way: mud square houses, green field, boys wandering around, shops with their glass windows, and Pathans with their distinctive caps. But the name of Darra has something else to proud about, it’s the gun factory of Pakistan. The people in this area, if may say, all do the same business: gun making and selling. The factories are hidden in the rooms in the small alleys and bazaars, and gun shops are widely open. Pen-shapped pistols It’s obvious that this kind of place was not supposed for tourists to wander around. In fact, before the area was open for tourists, many tourist buses came here to visit the gun shops and ‘check’ the local made AK-47, guns, snippers, pistols, etc etc. Since Benazir Bhutto [read more]
Peshawar – Smuggler Bazaar
April 13, 2006 Refugees children Karkhana Bazaar, or smuggler bazaar, was quite among the most famous time in Peshawar memorabilia, due to its proximity with its infamous border, Afghanistan. But the smuggler bazaar today is no more than row of shops selling daily needs. It was Friday anyway, so the shops were closed. And we were there to buy beauty cosmetics… sigh. The bus we took to smuggler bazaar threw us away two kilometers before the place. But it was good. I had the chance to observe some children working along the river collecting garbage. The garbage collectors, mostly children in the Asia subcontinent, are among the most distinctive life of the grass root of the countries. The children, boys and girls, were happy with photographs. Some even posing with their meaningful garbage sack. Many children end up as garbage pickers Not far from there was the Afghan refugee’s camp. It was a very condensed shanty town, but now, the Pakistani government had given them the [read more]
Peshawar – Afghan Consulate
With guys in Afghan consulate April 13, 2006 Lamli, my Malaysian friend, is prepared to go to Afghanistan. She got the Afghan visa already, quite easily, she said. I thought it should not be a bad idea also to get one before I got back to Pindi. Her visa is for two months, 60 dollars. Afghan visa is like a ticket, for a month it is 30 dollars, for 2 it is 60 dollars. You can buy any number of duration of stay, and the price is 30 dollars per month. The visa procedure is easy and straightforward. Today is Thursday, and Afghan embassy is supposed to open. The consulate stated that it only accepted visa application on Tuesday and Thursday, but apparently it worked everyday. I went early to the consulate, got the application and filled it. When waiting for the interview, there was a fat bodyguard staring at me for quite long time. Then his first sentence, instead of a salaam greeting, was: “kukukukukakakakakikiki….” Three years ago, in 2003, I came to this consulate to [read more]
Peshawar – Meeting an Old Friend
She is my idol April 12, 2006 Spogmay Hotel 200 Rupees/ double bed room The days of free computer access had finished, so now on the blog might be short and compact. My friend from Malaysia, whom I met in India before, called me for some times, and we were discussing about the opportunity to meet up. Actually I didnt have any plan to go to Peshawar, but because she was going to Afghanistan in a very near future, I decided to ‘sacrifice’ my plan and go to Peshawar instead. I departed quite late from Islamabad, thanks to the driver from our office who didnt come early. The bus to Peshawar, from the Karachi Company, are usually small buses. I took the Flying Coach, which do really ‘fly’, and I hoped that I would reach Peshawar before dark. The atmosphere in the Coach was not quite Pakistan already. I encountered some Hazaran Mongoloid face Hazaran ethnic boys, who also speaked Farsi. He was an Afghan refugee. I reached Peshawar almost dark. Surprising, with my [read more]
Islamabad – Theft
April 11, 2006 Sebuah keluarga terpandang dan religius Saya tinggal di sebuah keluarga di Islamabad. Keluarga ini cukup terpandang dan mempunyai bisnis keluarga yang cukup besar. Secara religius pun sangat dihormati, karena mempunyai nama keluarga Syed, yang berarti keturunan langsung dari Nabi Muhammad. Keluarga Syed Ijaz tinggal di sebuah real estate besar di kawasan orang kaya Islamabad. Islamabad memang dipenuhi oleh orang-orang kaya dengan rumah-rumah raksasa macam istana, macam kompleks Galaxy atau Dharmo di Surabaya. Walaupun modern dan kaya, keluarga Ijaz amatlah sangat religius. Dalam keluarganya, ruang tamu dipisahkan sehelai kelambu, sehingga tamu laki-laki tak bisa melihat penghuni rumah yang perempuan. Hingga beberapa hari tinggal di rumah ini, aku pun tak pernah tahu ada siapa saja perempuan di sana. Yang jelas banyak sekali, namun selain anak-anak dan bari amma, tak satu pun yang pernah aku lihat secara langsung. Aku merasa aman tinggal di rumah ini. Aku disediakan [read more]
Islamabad – Wedding in the Capital (2)
April 9, 2006 Membaca Qur’an di rumah dulha Hari ini hari ketiga pernikahan, setelah mehndi kemarin. Acaranya, yang semula kata Ijaz dimulai pukul 12, ternyata terlambat lagi (seperti biasa di Pakistan) hingga pukul 2. Ijaz, sebagai teman terdekat mempelai pria, mengiringi mempelai pria dalam mobilnya. Arak-arakan mobil panjang berjalan dari Islamabad menuju Rawalpindi. Di dalam mobil ada yang bertanya tentang asalku. Aku jawab Pakistani. Mereka manggut-manggut, “Gilgit ya…”, dengan sok tahunya menambahkan, “memang orang Gilgit wajahnya mirip orang Cina ya…” Sebagaimana acara pernikahan lainnya di Pakistan, di sini juga acara mempelai pria menjemput mempelai wanita, istilahnya dulha menjemput dulen. Namun karena ini di kota, acara bukan lagi di rumah masing-masing mempelai, melainkan di sebuah Wedding Hall di pusat kota Rawalpindi, tepatnya di Liaquat Chowk. Wedding hall, bukanlah seperti halnya gedung pernikahan di Indonesia di mana piring-piring [read more]
Islamabad – A Wedding in the Capital
Dancing to celebrate April 8, 2006 Today was supposed to be my last day in Kashmir. Syed Ijaz Gillani offered me to go together to Islamabad where I could stay in his family house. He said that there would be a wedding ceremony that I probably interested to attend. He said that he would pick me very early in that morning, at 8, to go together to Islamabad. But not until 1 pm that he came. This kind of little bit delay of appointment is quite common in Pakistan. Some of my friends in Muzaffarabad would like to meet me for the last time. They came at 8 in the morning. Ali insisted to take me to his house to have breakfast. I refused as I was worrying Ijaz would came early. Ali, the 16 year old boy, said that he knew his countrymen much better than me. And he was right. Waiting, waiting, and waiting. They look so bored The morning was full of waiting. Those little boys of 16-20 years old were also enjoying the sexy gabshab (conversation). One scene I was so surprised to spot, that one [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Good Bye Noraseri
April 4, 2006 Time to say goodbye The day to leave Noraseri had come. I had spent quite a month here, and I felt it was already my second home. The people, now I prefer to say, the friends, were so deep in my heart. Farman said that Noraseri had been my second home. He might be right. I would like to return back here to meet again the friends in this village. But now I had to leave to continue the journey. The farewell was not easy. I had such a limited time, because Rashid from the NGO had called earlier in the morning, saying that I had to return to Muzaffarabad before one, so I may copy the photos of the project. He was leaving to Islamabad and brought the computer back from the office. The office was going to be emptied. And I had to rush. It was impossible to say farewell to everybody. I started in Doctor Shahab’s house. Together with Junaid and his cousin, Mubasshar, I went to Mubasshar’s house. Mubasshar father was coming a little bit late, after some work in the [read more]
Kandar – The Land of Fighters
April 3, 2006 Helicopter bringing aids to Harama. Imagine how those angry fighters hijacked the flying copter First, the rumors. The name of Kandar is full of myth, ask every villager of Noraseri, and his face will be filled by fear. Not only villagers from Noraseri, but the fame of Kandar had reached areas as far as Pattika and Muzaffarabad. The people of Kandar had made their popularity around the hills. Kandar, located on the top of the hill just behind, is visible from Noraseri. Seemed as close it was, the real four kilometer distance was somehow an unreachable gap for the villagers from Noraseri. It was the image of Kandar which put down the people of other villages. I have heard the rumor about Kandar for the first time from Rashid who told me how ‘nonsense’ these people were. Rashid said that no NGO was working there, as the NGOs were afraid of Kandari. Kandar, accidentally the name resembled “Kandahar”, one of the most dangerous areas in Afghanistan. It [read more]
Noraseri – The Doctor Shahab Family
April 2, 2006 Doctor Shahab with my Indonesian cap The NGO camp was emptied already today. The scars of the tents left another scars in people in neighborhood. It was Doctor Shahab, born as Khani Zaman, among those who used to come at least one time in a day to our camp area. He was an old man in his sixties, and everybody called him as Mister Doctor, or Doctor Shahab. I believed he was a doctor, until Hafizah told me that he never been a doctor. It turned out to be that he was a pharmacist, and used to be a driver of an ambulance of Edhi Foundation. His work was not that far from doctor anyway. The first time I knew Doctor Shahab was the same date when the Hajji Shahab passed away. The two occasions still made me confusing the two names many of the times. Doctor Shahab was there in the funeral day of Hajji Shahab, claiming that he was a friend of President Soekarno in school time, and asked me to send a dozen of Indonesian caps. He was humorous, he was optimistic, and he was [read more]
Noraseri – The End of Mourning Days
Mahfil, another party to commemmorate the 40th day after the death of Mister Hajji April 2, 2006 The time passed very fast. When I came to Noraseri for the first time, the ground was dry and the hills were yellow. But spring had touched Kashmir, that the flowers had blossomed and the hills were carpeted by green rugs. It had been at least forty days since my first coming here. And the project of Danish Muslim Aid NGO had almost finished. The neighboring families had a queue to invite the personnel of the NGO to their house to have dinner or lunch. Three days ago it was Uncle Bashir’s family, then Doctor Shahab, then we had breakfast in Afaq’s house, and yesterday it was the turn of Farman Shah. The work had almost been completed. The dispensary was just some wood sticks, but now it had been walled and roofed by CGI sheets. Two days ago I came back from Muzaffarabad to make documentation of the NGO works in Pattika and yesterday it was the day of Harama and Noraseri. Most [read more]
Noraseri – Homesick
March 29, 2006 Totally devastated, but life has to go on Time passed very fast, and it had been my thirtieth day in the NGO camp in Noorasery. I was reading some printed material from Andreas Harsono blog (andreasharsono.blogspot.com) which explained about some basics of journalism. This weblog was recommended in the photographer website. It was indeed enlightening. The posts were mostly in Indonesian, and the articles about investigative journalism, how to write in English, some basic elements of journalism, the narrow Indonesian nationalism in tsunami disaster, and the literal journalism were very well-written that I thought deeply about my country. He was right, Indonesia, our country, was full of problems. It was not difficult to see injustice, suppressed people, poverty, mysteries, struggles, and so on. I felt that somehow I wanted to dedicate myself deeper to the journalism world. But I still had too much to learn, as my educational background was not exactly fit with this new [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Poems from Kashmir
March 27, 2006 The beautiful Kashmir is endless source of inspiration During my stay in the area, people kept teaching me various things to be more proper Pakistani or Urdu speakers. That was including those meaningless Noraseri Hindko salaams of ‘gay Barhean’ or ‘mu ko ni pata’. But here I would like to share some interesting ones. This was the national poem (komi trana) of Kashmir. National poem? Yes, Kashmir was still regarded as ‘not Pakistan’; it had its own flag and national anthem also. The national poem had simple words, nice rhyming, and easy to remember. So, let’s start. Baghon aur Baharonwalla (the gardens and the spring) Daryaon aur Kohsaronwalla (the rivers and the mountains) Jannat ki Nazaronwalla (the heavenly scenery) Jammu Kashmir HAmira (Jammu and Kashmir are ours) Vatan HAmira, Azad Kashmir, Azad Kashmir, Azad Kashmir (Our Homeland is the Free Kashmir) The part with ‘jannat’, ‘heaven’, I had problem [read more]
Noraseri – Where is the Bride?
March 26, 2006 A night before I started to suspect the so-called ‘sexy gabshab’, sexy conversations of the boys, which included physical jokes like touching, hugging, and kissing. Yesterday a boy successfully reached my bed and found his way to hide under my blanket, and gave me massage. I thought it was just a normal massage of friends. But his hand always tried to guerilla to ‘that’ place. I prevented him to. And accidentally touched ‘his’ and I was surprised that he was erected. I jumped. I cursed, “Harami!”. End of joke. It was raining the whole day yesterday. It was a sudden, like weathers in mountain areas, changed drastically in minute basis. It was terribly hot day the day before. But the radio forecast that the rain would be for three consecutive days. For sure the main road which connected the village and the outside world was blocked by the landslides. See my cupboard! For today, after doing a short time of documentation of [read more]
Noraseri – Living on Faith
In deeply religious Pakistan, it is important to pay attention to their culture and religion so not to offend them March 25, 2006 Islamic Republic of Pakistan, a country which was founded to house the Muslims of India and to establish a country following the way suggested by the religion, was among the most famous countries in Muslim world. From a discussion with a Pakistani scholar, it was stated that the founding of Pakistan was not only to guarantee the freedom of religion (as people were also free to pray in India), but also to guarantee the life in God’s preferred path. What was the meaning of the name of Pakistan? Formally, Pakistan means land of pure. Some other people claimed that the name of the country referred to the essence of Pakistan: Punjab, Afghan, Kashmir, Sindhi, and Balluchistan (Bangladesh, the ex East Pakistan, didn’t find its place in the name of the country). Another man in Muzaffarabad told me that the meaning of Pakistan was Laillahaillallah, the [read more]
Noraseri – The Hajji Shahab Family
March 23, 2006 Tajjamal and his cousin The relation with Taj Mahal brought me back to the Hajji Shahab’s house. Hajji Shahab, an old man who died recently, whose funeral was photographed by me in my first day in Noraseri, was quite a reputable person in the village. And Tajjamal, or Taj Mahal, was his distant relative. Taj Mahal didn’t come to the funeral day, as he was in Muzaffarabad. This was the first time he came back to Noraseri so it was essential for him to visit the family again to deliver some prayers. A daughter of Mr. Hajji came late in the funeral day, so she didn’t have the chance to evidence her father’s face for the last time. Samera, the name of this daughter, asked me to show her the pictures of the face of the dead father. Samera was in Lahore, and due to road blocks (very common in these rainy days due to the landslides in Kashmir, and the day when Hajji Shahab passed away was also a rainy day) Samera came a day later. Due to my customs, I [read more]
Noraseri – Majlis in Noraseri
March 22, 2006 Roof top gathering Yesterday was the Chehlum, the forty day of the mourning period of the death of Imam Hussain, the third Imam of Shia Muslim sect. Farman Shah telephoned to our office and invited me to join the majlis which would be held in his house. Farman Shah lived in Noraseri, not far from our camp in the village. Farman Shah and his family were all from Shia sect, the Aliwallahs. Majlis, the speech which was held everyday during the mourning period of Muharram until Chehlum, would deliver the story of the death of Imam Hussain. And more than often, the speech brought tears to all of the audience. The Chehlum majlis, as the Ashura majlis (the death day of the Imam) was among the biggest and the most important. I departed early in the morning from Muzaffarabad together with Tajjamal (I called him Taj Mahal), a guy from Noraseri who lived in Muzaffarabad. He came early in the morning, when I was not prepared yet and was still shocked by the whole day of Chehlum [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Chehlum
March 21, 2006 It’s real blade The mourning of the death of the Prophet’s grandson, Hazrat Hussain, who was killed in a war in Qarbala, 1400 years ago, still continued until the fortieth day after Ashura. It was 20 Safar, 40 days after 10 Muharram, the final day of all of the mourning. I had experienced the Ashura celebration in Lahore, which was an astonished experience. For Chehlum, I had it in Muzaffarabad. I came quite early in the morning, 12 noon, to the Shia mosque near the chowk of Medina Market. The mosque itself was not big, signified by the black huge flag, distinctive of Shia mosques. An attendant there said that before the earthquake, the mosque was always crowded during this time of the year. But now, many of the believers had gone. Indeed, the majlis was not crowded, the people who came was only about a quarter of the number the space can handle. The majlis speech, delivered in language more about the same as Urdu, also brought the listeners to hysteria. Ya [read more]
Noraseri – Urdu for Dummies
Urdu is written in nastaliq style of Arabic script March 20, 2006 Urdu, the national language of the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, is quite an interesting language to learn, for linguists or anybody else who is curious about the culture of the Sub-continent. You are forgiven if you don’t know that the language is closely related to the national language of its biggest neighbor enemy, Hindi from Hindustan (India). Indeed, the physical form of both languages are completely different, Hindi is written in Sanskrit Devnagari script while Urdu is written in Perso-Arabic script, or Arabic script written in nashtaliq style which was developed in Persia. But the sound of Urdu and Hindi are more and less the same. In fact, in most conversations it was difficult to detect whether someone is a Pakistani speaking Urdu or a Northern Indian speaking Hindi, except when the Pakistani use more Arabic borrowed words and the Indian use the Sanskrit ancient words. The relation between the two [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Day of Accidents
Having lunch in a ‘hotel’ and got invited March 19, 2006 The day was started by a missed call, missed call from God. It was a small aftershock early in the morning. I was in the middle of my dream, and suddenly felt that my matras was rocked. It was exactly the same feeling as when I stayed in a cheap hotel in India, and got a room next to the main road, and the whole room would be rocked by the passing trucks or buses. The aftershock, a real earthquake, brought me back to India in my dream. And just realized I was in a tent in Pakistan side of Kashmir when I got up. After a hot and sunny day yesterday, today it changed drastically to be cloudy and raining. Many of the plans today were altered, and instead of going to another village, I returned back to Muzaffarabad today. I met the boy who was so desperate to kiss me before, and he gave greetings, and said to me, “A beautiful… piece of meat”, and laughed. Hmm…quite a command of English vocabulary. [read more]
Noraseri – A Story from Basyir’s Family
New home, new hope March 18, 2006 After five consecutive months living in emergency tents, finally, Mr. Basyir had the chance for a celebration: a move to the new shelter. The Danish Muslim Aid, an NGO from Denmark, had provided the family with the building material, and three men from the family worked hard every day to build their new home, the new place to shelter the hopes and dreams remained after everything was devastated by the disaster. Mr. Basyir was a typical example of the suffering victims of the disaster which rocked South Asia on October 8, 2005. The family, once consisted of the parents and ten children, now was smaller. Basyir had had six sons and four daughters. Three died. All boys. And the boys were the youngest in their family. The scars of the tragedy still rooted very deep on Mrs. Basyir. Her youngest boy looked like a Chinese boy, when he was alive. That youngest son was only two years old, and he was not recovered under the rubbles of the house. Mr. Basyir said [read more]
Gilgit – Leaving Scars
Waiting for freedom March 11, 2006 The experience in the jail when visiting the two Indonesian girls was not quite nice. I was really waiting for that moment to come, that the two girls haunted my dream, but when I had the chance to meet them, I even didn’t talk a lot with them as I was rushed by the harsh policemen. I was very disappointed, and at the same time, helpless. Today, a guy from Chilas who discussed about sex with me a night before, asked me to go back again to the jail. The Chilas guy, Mirza, was in the jail for some days because of fighting. Regarding his origin, I thought it was due to free sex, but it was not. The people from Chilas, as those Pathans from western border of Pakistan, were famous of their male to male sexual activities. Mirza said to me, it was not homosexual activities, or at least very different from the concept of homosexuality in Europe, as here men only want to fuck, no suck, no love. He said that Pakistan was very conservative, as this is an [read more]
Gilgit – Two Indonesian Prisoners
Waiting for freedom March 10. 2006 Maryam and Christina, the name of the two poor girls, who were detained by the Pakistani border officials when they tried to smuggle heroine to China. A meeting with Mr Raja Sadafar in Deputy Commisioner office in Gilgit led me to a visit to the Gilgit District Jail today. “They are very poor, really poor girls,” said Raja, mentioning that in a year there was no even a single Indonesian visiting them. He asked me to visit them, as a countryman, and bring them some fruits or something. I have heard the story of the two girls long before, from several different people. They were innocent girls, involved in this kind of business for the first time, thus inexperienced. There was a box of 4 kg heroine planted in the bottom of their backpacks. One of the girls successfully passed the Pakistani check, but when the other was trying to pass, the experienced border guard suspected that the backpack was to heavy for their tiny body size. It was [read more]
Gilgit – The Story of My Visa
Some tricks are needed to get a new visa extension March 9, 2006 Sorry for being snobby about visa, but I dont know why I have to be the poorest creature to be created to always have tragedies with visa, especially in this trip. From the Indian visa in Nepal, Pakistan visa in India, and now, Pakistan visa extension. As what I was believing, Pakistan visa was easy to extend, as the country is promoting tourism now. My visa was about a week left when I was in Muzaffarabad, and Rashid, the guy from our NGO, said that if that possible, than it would be very easy to extend. He just came back from Islamabad Monday 6th, and on Tuesday we started our ‘visa extension struggle’. First of all, instead of directly went to the DC Office where the extension and passport paperworks are done, we visited the Muzaffarabad SSP (I dont know what this stand for), the man with highest position in police department in Muzaffarabad. U know, in Pakistan you can go anywhere with connection. Knowing [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Sea of Tents
Sea of tents March 4, 2006 The city of Muzaffarabad, the capital of Azad Jammu and Kashmir, sprawls along two important rivers in Pakistan, Niilam and Jhelam. The two rivers meet in the heart of the city, where the economic activities of the city concentrated. The main road stretched from the north through Chella Bandi area until the ‘Secretariat’ area, of total 4 kms of length. Muzaffarabad is hilly city, the roads are all ‘uupar niche’ (up and down), with several steep cliffs (many were collapsed due to the earthquake 5 months earlier) and ladder provided to pedestratians to up the hill. Was the main landmark and tourist attraction of the city, the historical Red Fort or Lal Qila is now a bunch of red stones. The remains of the fort, walls now not more than 2 metres tall, are still standing on the top of small hill near Chella Bandi. The shops and houses are also still showing the scars of disasters, with orphaned children beggar sleeping on the street, [read more]
Muzaffarabad – World Hartal Day
Protesters yelling “Death to America”, in front of a banner stating that help from an American fondation is highly appreciated March 3, 2006 Friday, March 3, 2006, was supposed to be the world strike day to protest the Danish cartoon. I didn’t know whether it was indeed done universally, but at least it was nation-wide in Pakistan, and included in this quake torn capital of AJ&K, Muzaffarabad. The experience of unrest in Lahore gave me a fore thinking, that anything could happen in so-called ‘peaceful protests’. The boy from the office accompanied me along the way, and I was wearing my Indonesian peci for my national identity, not to be misunderstood as Chinese and Japanese. From the information I gathered, the whole city would be under strike situation, where all shops were supposed to be closed and no public transport operating. But even though most shops were closed, those which kept doing business were not few anyway. And many restaurants were [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Missed Call
It was a real call, not just mere a ‘missed call’ March 2, 2006 After the major earthquake disaster on October 8 last year, up till now there were already 2,000 big and small aftershocks, of which the people called as ‘missed call’, as the shocks resembles the short vibration of the mobile phone when a missed call comes. I was not shocked by the small earthquakes, as we also live in earthquake area in our homeland. But the people here, covered by the trauma from the disaster, were all running to the street. Still most people chose to live in tents instead of inhabiting the house buildings; no matter how good and untouched the house was, as everybody was still afraid. I was sleeping in my room at that time, when the young boy in the office urged me to run away immediately. It was a missed call anyway. No [read more]
Muzaffarabad – Farewell Party
A lavish farewell party in a ‘hotel’ (aka restaurant) in Muzaffarabad March 1, 2006 The NGO work is almost to an end. It has started since the disaster, and now everybody in the relief team was going to go back to their life. Most of the team members were temporary members, working for 1 month or so, but some like the Gillanis, were here since October last year. As today was a new day of a new month, the members were reducing again. The guys planned to have a farewell party in Muzaffarabad to say good bye to some of leaving members. The transport to go back to the province capital was not easy, and after waiting almost about an hour, we successfully ‘hijacked’ a Suzuki bus. The lunch was in Muzaffarabad Cantonment area, with splendid fried rice, roti, mutton curry, and the pink coloured Kashmiri tea. I really regretted to come very late, that the work is almost to an end. The NGO would be still in the area up till the third week of this month, and there would [read more]
Noraseri – An Exhausting Day
New development in the earthquake zones February 28, 2006 Mahmood Gillani, who possesses a strange habit to only spoke Urdu when there was the sun and spoke other strange tribal languages to me in other time, just came back a night before from Islamabad. The road was open. The work of clearing the road from the blocks was done very rapidly, thanks to the heavy machine donated by ‘the people of Japan’. Electricity was supposed to come yesterday, as the weather was clear. But it came very late, so that the plan to watch porn movie with young boys from neighborhood was cancelled. And I also met a young guy who was very desperate in kissing and hugging me. I gave my palm for him to kiss, but not my face (yet). The porn watching plan was replaced by sexy gabshab (sexy talk), where the goftgu (conversation) was dominated by sex topics. The boys here not only put sexual jokes verbally, but also physically, like hugging and kissing. It was really hard to determine their sexual [read more]
Noraseri – From the Rubbles
Tent school February 27, 2006 The discussion about Playboy magazine somehow had brought strange dreams to me. I dreamt of some Indonesian girls wearing traditional transparent kebaya dress, unbottomed, half-naked, and … . Hmmm …. Somehow, living too long time in Pakistan had made me more wilder in sex fantasies. Next to our camp there was a rubbles of collapsed school building. There was another blue tent with huge Chinese characters: For Disaster Emergency Use. This is the temporary school tent for the students. The students started their class at 8:45, singing a chorus outside the tent, and then got into the big blue tent. Today I started to visit the project of the NGO with Mr Ijaz Gillani and Mr Manzoor. Our NGO, an NGO from Denmark, bearing the name ‘Danish’which might be hated by the fundamentalists due to the red hot Danish cartoon issue. We prefer to spell ‘Danish’ as DUN-NISH, to avoid misunderstanding, as ‘Danish’ with this [read more]
Noraseri – Tent Life
Morning ritual of the volunteers February 26, 2006 The rain which was started the day before yesterday and lasted for more than 30 hours had just stopped at midnight. The sky was still dark in the morning, and I had problem with my camera lens. I don’t know how to clean the lens, and because of overusing under the rain, the lens had vapors on it, and the pictures taken were not sharp. Any input from other photographers is expected. The morning life is always hilarious in our camp. Everybody started the day by shaving the moustache (the Pakistanis prefer to use the plural form of the noun – moustaches, possibly mean the upper and lower part of the moustache, as it indeed means ‘two different parts’ – the men tend to preserver the upper and clean shave the lower), washing faces with the warm water, and brushing teeth with a stick of a certain tree. I prefer not to do anything to clean myself in this cold weather (learnt this bad habit from China), and [read more]
Noraseri – Funeral
Haji Shahab just passed away few hours earlier February 25, 2006 Here, 17 kms away from Muzaffarabad, is hilly areas surrounded by snow-peaked mountains. From here, the glorious snowy mountains of Nanga Parbat can be seen in clear days, flying in the blue sky, towering and dominating the atmosphere. Here is the mountain area of Noraseri, where the NGO I am working with has several projects of building permanent shelters for the earthquake victims. And my work is to take documentation pictures of the projects. But the rain has started since yesterday night, not so big, but continuosly. The weather in the morning was very cold, that everybody in the camp had to halt any works. The rain has made the trekking path in the villages dangerous. And indeed, this is the best weather to just stay lazy and sleep in the tents (not intending to be lazy though… but given chance by the weather ). Gool Muhammad, the cook, who has experience of working in Greece (Urdu: Yunan, Indonesian: Yunani) [read more]