May 15, 2006 Giving understanding to the people and the leaders is a main task for the development programs here Sami Samaj Sujag Sangat is a small NGO in Umerkot dealing with the welfare of the people in the rural areas of Umerkot, bordering with the vast Tharpakar connecting this interior Sindh with Rajasthan and Gujarat in India side. This part of Pakistan had quite a substantial amount of Hindu people, and especially in deep desert, the rural villagers were mostly Hindus from the lowest caste. Umerkot itself had a glorious history as the birthplace of a Mughal king, Akbar. The town had a very ancient fort, but not much was left from the ruins. Parkash, a friend of mine, was working in this NGO with a teamwork which consist of people from the two religions: Muslims and Hindus. They work together without any problem. Religions had never been problem here, as people from both religions respect each other and live harmoniously. Beef was even not served in restaurants here, as about [read more]
Umerkot – Heatwave
May 14, 2006 The heatwave almost killed me Pakistan was boiling, Punjab was attacked by heatwave. The newspapers reported hundreds of people fainted and 30s killed in Sialkot and Lahore, where the temperature rocked until 50. And actually, I was among the victim. The hot days in Multan and Bahawalpur, and the unforgiving train journey from Punjab to interior Sindh, had eaten all of my power. ‘My old friend’ had come to visit me, and forced me to have a complete bed rest for a week. Fortunately, on my weakest time, I had arrived to a house of my survivor, the Hindu family of Piragani in deep Umerkot, where I could recover my health in a comfortable room filled with love and affection of the whole family of 52 people. My recovery was fast, but still hard work of research in hot and deep desert might danger my body. But I will try my best for [read more]
Bahawalpur – Train Journey to Sindh
May 8, 2006 The totally-not-express Bahauddin Zakariya Express Packed. Hundreds of passengers, agressively jumped into the economy train of Bahauddin Zakariya which served the bottom class of people of cheap mass transport. The passengers blocked the only passage from the chart door until the seats with the unimaginable number of luggage of their each, and their huriness which dont allow others to pass. This was the common scene of passenger boarding in public transports in Sub Continents. It seems that everybody doesnt have any second of time, and ‘time is money’ concept suddenly overwhelmed the laid-back mind of these Pakistani passengers. The hurried passengers, each with their own hysteria of screaming and pushing, also zipping through, made everything worst. The train came late. It started from Multan, and Bahawalpur was supposed to be the second stop, separated around one and half hour. But the train came two hours late, and departure from Bahawalpur was in the [read more]
Bahawalpur – The Christian Community
May 7, 2006 Father Nadeem Joseph That morning, 28 October 2001, just few minutes before 9, the Christian Protestant devotees were just finishing their weekly mass. The church was a Catholic curch, St Dominic Church, in the Model Town area, a well-to-do area in Bahawalpur. The Protestant were allowed to do mass here, with the concession with the Catholic fathers. They were given the morning shift, from 8 to 9. The mass has just almost finished, the pastor walked toward the gate, and the people following him, ready to receive blessing. Suddenly two strangers with machine guns came through the door, splashing the bullets from their weapons to all directions. The hungry bullets flew to the breasts, legs, chests, women, children, men, everybody. The casualties was not few, 16 people killed by the firing. This was the first in Pakistan history of brutality against Christian minority. But it was not the last. The church is a small building, very simply decorated, with only three rows of [read more]
Uch Sharif – The Saint City
May 5, 2006 Half Left Bahawalpur is the gate to the saint city of Uch Sharif, where some of the most holy men of Islam and Sufi were putting their roots here. Uch Sharif is said to had the second oldest university, after Rome. Where in Rome, the universities were already left their medieval time, replaced by cableless internet connection equipped classrooms, the religious schools in Uch Sharif were still looked wrapped by the time of their heydays. Uch Sharrif is about 100 kms away from Bahawalpur. The bus had to change in a nearby city, Ahmedpur, which was 20 kms away from Uch. The bus conductors, as in other places in Pakistan, would admit everybody even when they were sure that the bus wouldnt take the passenger to the destination. I departed early to avoid the summer heat (reach almost 45 now), but still I spent too much time on road because the bus going to other direction insisted to take me anyway. And as result of this friendly and helpful ticket seller, I was lost in the [read more]
Bahawalpur – Youngster Life
May 4, 2006 Drining alcohol from the same glass is sign of brotherhood It was a coincidence for me to meet Amir, this young guy from Bahawalpur, who invited me to his house in his hometown. I was waiting for ticket in Multan to go to Bahawalpur by bus (60 Rs, 1.5 hours). He, a tall, dark, fit young guy with soldier-like-body offered me to sit next to him, and then he also offered me to go to his house to accommodate me. His house is located near Gulberg Road just next to the Model Town. The houses in this complex look like of the same styles, little blocks with small yards. All with the same stone colour, very simple with agricultural atmosphere. Actually he didnt bring me to his house, he brought me to the building next to his house, which was occupied by his uncle and nephew. It seems that he didnt want to meet me with his mother, that he never ever invited me to go to his own house. He kept coming all the time, bringing the food (only rice as I told him I ate only rice, and out of [read more]
Multan – The Mausoleums of Multan
May 2, 2006 Bahauddin Zakariya Mausoleum in Multan The old city of Multan was among the first places in Pakistan to be converted to Islam by Mohammad bin Qasim. At that time Multan was a center of a Brahmin kingdom, led by a Brahmin king of Darra. Nothing left in Multan of its pre-Islamic history. The city had became a major pilgrimage for the Muslims all around the country as many of the mausoleums of the holy men of the religion are located here. The most famous mausoleum of Multan might be the Mazhar of Sheikh Rukn-i-Alam. The building of the mausoleum was fantastic, reminded me to the Moghul mosques and mausoleums of Uzbekistan (they were all Moghuls anyway). Rukn-i-Alam means pillars of the world. A large number of pilgrims come here everyday, to pray around the tomb inside the mausoleum building. Rukn-i-Alam is a leader of the Suhrawardiya Sufi sect, so both of Sunni and Shiah pilgrims come here. To come to the mausoleum, one should leave the shoes and sandals outside. There was [read more]
Multan – Welcome to Multan
It looks like a time machine May 1, 2006 Ali Hotel, Multan, 150 Rs So, at last, I left Lahore, with very deep feeling of sadness. I have felt that Lahore is another home of mine, keep returning back for visiting friends, enjoying the tea and watching the time flows in Anarkali, and…. the food…. Lahore is heaven. But my visa said that I had to keep going, to see more of Pakistan, before it expires in June. So I listened to it. The farewell of Lahore was dramatic. I didnt expect to be that. Two local friends came to visit me for having juice in Hafiz juice stall near Anarkali, then Asad, one of them, decided to go together with me to the bus station, despite of the risk of being slapped by angry father. I departed almost midnight, thinking that I would arrive early in the morning the next day, so I may save one night hotel fee and one day of travelling time. Asad, helped me to get the public bus to the bus station. I didnt let him to share my bags, because I thought I had [read more]
Lahore – A Peshawar boy in Anarkali
April 29, 2006 The culinary capital of Lahore, Anarkali Food Street He was very young, I suggested that he was only 11 years old. His name is Waseed, a Pathan boy from Peshawar. He comes everyday to Anarkali, with his little treasure: a weight scale. Oh, plus some thick papers for him to sit on. “How old are you?” “Between 10 and 15” But it’s a big range. He doesnt know his own age. Waseed didnt know English. Even his Urdu was limited. I tried to communicate with Farsi, but he knew nothing. He was not from Afghanistan anyway, but his homeland was just next to the Farsi speaking country. He sat on the padestrian path of the food street of Anarkali, Lahore, waiting for customers. Every time a curious fellow tried to weigh on his little scale, he get 2 Rs. He was very young. “You dont go to school?” “No” “Where are your parents?” “In Peshawar”. Peshawar is a city 10 hours away from Lahore by the public bus. The [read more]
Lahore – The Postal System
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]