I land at JFK airport and my husband and I go to the rent a car section to get ourselves a car for the trip. I hand over my passport to the lady at the counter - seeing my green passport, she jumps up with a laugh and says in her unique nasal afro-american accent...'Oh I love the women in your country, very strong women I must say, you cook up your men if you're not happy with em' and then looking at my husband she says 'You've gotta be careful man, she can be a tough one!'. I was confused, first trying to translate the accent and then the context of 'cooking and men'! (at first I thought she means we cook food for our men, which we do). I got her to repeat it for me and then i realised she was talking about the news two days back about this lady in Pakistan who happened to murder her husband and cook his body to hide the meat. She did it to take revenge from him for eyeing her daughter (his step daughter) for an affair while he was already married to the mother. She was so angry she decided to kill him and then cook him up.
I hadn't seen this news till then, but the way the lady described it, we both had a good laugh about it. Then she looks at my passport and says 'O you've got your husband's name here' and turns to her colleague and says (in her accent again) 'Ya know, in their country marraige is serious business, naught like ours, where yadon know who your husban' is, or who's husban' he might be thamorrow'. I smiled at the fact that an american for once was appreciating the fact that we have our husband's listed on our passport. Usually we pakistani females dread the whole passport changing hassle and this chauvinistic law of having either your father or your husband as part of your identity (as if you, your living breathing meaty self were not enough to prove that you actually exist!). But this lady saw it as a sign of respect, something to go by as a legal and social protection.
This might not be a very unusual interaction between a customer and a service agent, but post 9/11 any pleasant interaction between a Pakistani and a US citizen is definitely unusual now and I took a sigh of relief that one my first declaration of Pakistani identity in the US land, had something light-hearted to talk around it, rather than the monotonous link of terrorism.
Dua'en boht soch ker aye they Tere Dareechey per sab bhool gayeen Duniya ki takleefein leker aye they Teri chadar ki siyahi mei kho gayeen Jitni kami thi zindagi mei ek Teri kami se puree hueen Barrey josh se ayee thi Tere darr per Ye jalwa dekh ker behosh huee [Fizza, at Kaabah, 24th July 2011]
Ankhon mei ansoo hain pathar Kitne paani mei hai aimaan aj dekha
Dil mei sakhti hai jese pathar
Kitna ishq e Ilahi hai aj dekha
Rongttey kharey hain jaise mimbar
Tere ghar ki shaan kia hai aj dekha
Dil bekhaufee se hai khaufzada
Momin ka munafiq hona aj dekha
Siyaah to hai ye chadar o aswad
Dil ka siyahh hona magar aj dekha
Tere habib to phirtey hain idhar
Gunahgar ka tawaf magar aj dekha
(fizza , at kaabah, 24 Jul 2011)
Kash mei kuch saal peechey chali jaun Ek masoom bachi bann ker Tere darr per auun Gunnah ho mera buss zam zam ka girna Dua ho meri bus gurriya ka milna
Kash mei Mohammad (SW) ke zamaney mei chali jaun Jo aye na samajh kuch to Aap (SW) se puchney aun Gunnah hota mera buss chaadar ka urrna Dua hoti meri shahadat ka milna
Kash na hota mere dil mei ye bojh Dhoungee kesey itney gunahon ko soch Farishta ek hee kaafi tha mere kaandhey per Mola Duujey per dala meine korey kaghaz ka bojh
[Fizza, 26 July, at Kaabah]
(Beyond the humble attempt of expression above, I have no words to do justice to the spiritual experience of the holy cities and pilgrimage, but a mere factual account is described below)
Its been quite long since I blogged, but better still, I had been traveling so much that I gathered some more substance to blog about. Well, last month I was in Saudi Arabia, for the shorter muslim pilgrimage (Umrah). The pilgrimage takes place in Makkah but once you're in the country, almost every one (muslim) makes it a duo trip to Makkah & Madinah. Madinah is where the last Prophet (Pbuh) spent most of his lifetime post the revelation of the Holy Quran and so his (pbuh) tomb is also in the same city.
It is quite an experience for a believing muslim to visit these sacred cities. We have since childhood read about the stories of the spread of Islam and the sacrifices of early muslims and the followers of our beloved Prohpet (pbuh). One expects and also desires that once you set your eyes on the Kaabaah or the Masjid-e-Nabvi your eyes will burst into uncontrollable, unintentional, spontaneous tears and one would feel that their soul is still alive and in touch with its spiritual self. To me that moment took some time to come, and inititally i was embarrassed and a bit disappointed in myself. But later when I shared my experience with other people, many said that it sometimes takes time in sink in the fact that you are at that holy place. And at other times, some believe, our souls are so soiled with the weight of our daily small and big ill-deeds that it takes time to wash those off and soften our hearts so that we could see from the eye of the soul. I felt, guilty...that I might be from the latter group.
However, leaving me aside, what I was totally impressed with were the arrangements at both Makkah and Madinah. From my childhood story books I had something very ancient in mind about this whole experience, e.g I had assumed that the walk between Safa and Marwa (the two symbolic hills in Makkah) would be open air, with rocky and sandy land beneath our feet and the scorching sun above our heads - you might say that was very naive and rather stupid of me; I should have at least done that much of research before going. Well to my benefit, I had mustered up a lot of will power to walk these hills in the conditions I had imagined but actually I found that these hill points were now indoors, air-conditioned and all floored with cool marble. Another beautiful technological advancement are the 'umbrellas' and 'sliding Domes' at the Masjid e Nabvi (In Madinah). So when the sun is out, these umbrellas open up wide to include the outer open air area of the mosque under a cool shade so people can pray outdoors as well. Towards sun set, these beautiful umbrellas collapse back. Similarly the beautifully painted, carved Domes that make the roof of the inner mosque are also movable and adjust according to the angle of the sun.
Inside both the masjid e Nabvi and the Kaabah, you have air conditioned prayer places. There is an unlimited supply of 'zam zam' , the spring water that is meant to heal any disease or ailment, other than death. But the most amusing of all scenes is the 'cleaning mechanism' at the Kaaba. One, the cleanliness standards are out standing! Very frequent cleaning and very well done; but more interesting is the process. So the cleaning runs like a supply chain process; first a group of uniformed guys enclose an area with the red ribbon, then comes a little car carrying a drum of soapy water and a guy spills that water, then comes an army of men with wipers, wearing socks sliding and skating over the soapy water to spread it across (it almost seems like they are performing some kind of a choreographed exercise!), then the next row of 'men with mops' comes running mopping away every single inch 'squeaky clean'! It is surely a sight to watch! And this is all done bit by bit in every patch of this huge mosque, so that prayers are not disturbed yet all sections of the Kaaba are kept fresh and clean.
Another noticable experience is the level of tolerance and diversity during and around the pilgrimage. People from all countries, cultures, languages - all gathered and almost greedy to get in first for every act of worship, yet patient, yet considerate of their other muslim brethren. Whenever someone would be praying in a rush area, others would voluntarily build a wall around him/her so that those rushing in their way do not bump into or hop over the praying person. Yes there are places like the 'Haj re Aswad' (the stone from Heaven) where people would push and pull and knock you off to get in first, but even there I observed that most people were advising others not to hurt each other for a chance of worship, for such an act of worship would have no weight in the eyes of Allah.
The reason I named this post 'perfect play of spirituality and vacation' is because, this actually was like a vacation - a vacation where you have limited activities to do so you actually rest enough too. We were there for ten days and all we did was eat, sleep, pray - eat, sleep, pray... and the element of praying was so fulfilling to the spirit that it was an enjoyable activity.
A research study shows that 'moving homes' is listed among the top 5 most stressful experiences in life after divorce, financial stress, death and a couple more. For me however relocation has a different meaning, it is how I identify with my life and myself. Relocation has been part of my life as far back as I can remember - whether it was changing homes in the same city, or moving to another country. So in every couple of years, I start anticipating a move even if I haven't planned one! From packing up carton boxes, clearing out the mess unsorted in months, going home hunting and haggling with property agents to finally unpacking and organising the new home - all are experiences that I have somehow enjoyed immensely in life. Moving is probably my third best adrenaline after traveling and my skydive experience.
Right now I have seven suitcases lined along my bedroom walls, ranging from empty, to semi, to fully packed. Its time for another move - Yes, I am now - after having lived in Islamabad, Lahore, Karachi, Abu Dhabi, Dubai, and London (I'm sparing you of the different areas and number of home moves within those cities) - moving to Toronto.
Every city and every new move has added to who I am as a person, and even more so to my 'effortless learning bank'. What you may learn by roaming about a few hours in a new city, no encyclopedia and no travel guide can teach you. The insight you develop on people, cultures, diversity of thought, belief and customs cannot be gathered through reading notes on anthropology. Sometimes this insight can scare you - belittle you, make you realise how insignificant you are in this wide world. Sometimes it can shaken up your deepest belief systems. As they say - ignorance is bliss and too much irrelevant information may lead to confusion. So the job as an 'absorber' becomes quite difficult when it comes to deciphering all the input as we walk past so many systematic, cultural, institutional and behavourial changes. But I still find the benefits out weighing any draw backs of moving.
I am now looking forward to my next move, this time with my companion (this being our first move as a married couple) and I'm more than positive that this move will be more enriching than all past relocations. :)
Soon after our wedding, my husband had a two week business trip to Toronto. We had planned I'd go visit my family in Dubai during those two weeks and tickets etc. were all sorted out. It was the evening before our flight to Dubai (his connecting to Toronto) and he comes home with three options for me: "my trip is going to be a month long now, so you have 3 options, either you spend a month in Dubai or you spend 2 weeks in Dubai and 2 weeks in Lahore (where my grandparents and two siblings are) or you could accompany me on the business trip." Without much thinking, the newly wed bride plunged at the offer of being with her husband (and I have to admit somewhere deep down the inherent traveler in me was excited about the new destination). Last minute, the only available flight we found for me was with Turkish airlines so we had to travel the long 14 hour journey separately! (he was already booked on emirates)
The journey had a 7 hour stop over in Istanbul so I decided I would try my best to get a transit visa and get out of the airport. Seven hours of sitting at the airport before and after two long flights would have been a physical and psychological disaster for the adventurer living in me. So I tried and luckily managed to get the transit stamp. Not knowing much about the city and location of the main tourist attractions, I went looking for the tourist helpdesk at the airport. They advised me that I should take a taxi (worth 70 Turkish liras, one way!) and get to the other end of the city which could take an hour. When I asked them what the tube (metro) would take, they said 1.75 Turkish Liras - the decision was simple: I wasn't going to listen to the travel desk anymore. So I got a map of the city from them and went straight in the direction of the subway. The map showed me a picture of the Blue Mosque (built in 1606), one of the most famous tourist attractions of Istanbul . I showed that to the subway staff and asked them what route would take me there.
It was still 6am in the morning when I boarded the tube. I plugged my ipod into my ears and chose a seat next to the window. We quickly came over ground and I could see the suburbs of the city in the dawning light. This was March and still very cold for Turkey so everyone was packed in long coats, gloves, headgears and muflers. Luckily I was dressed for Toronto so I was well equipped for Turkey too.
I managed to change subways correctly and got off at the station closest to the Blue Mosque. On my way, I saw many mosques that looked exactly like the Blue Mosque (that I had seen in pictures) and I wondered if I had already missed it. To add to my confusion, when I stepped out at the correct station, I could see three similar mosques again! It was freezing cold and foggy - I walked along a bit trying to figure out which mosque I should audit first. It was 7am now - streets were still quite deserted. Only one breakfast stall on the pathway was to be seen. I went to him as I was a bit hungry myself and bought myself some traditional turkish cheese filled bread. Nice fellow he was - he noticed I was a tourist and let me pay a discounted rate when I fiddled with my bag looking for more change. Hunger was solved, but it was still too cold, too cold for my apparently very warm clothes. I found a cafe open, perhaps the only cafe open at 7am in the morning - the Pudding Shop. They had wireless internet and I was carrying my travel buddy - my laptop! So I quickly connected, ordered a latte and spent some time checking emails, updating friends and family etc. By 8am, the chill had worn out and the sun was brighter. I decided it was time to do what I had originally come here to do - look for the Blue mosque! I went into one Mosque, saw all around, inside and outer courtyard - it was beautiful. It looked like the blue mosque, but I wasn't sure if it really was. So I went ahead to the next mosque and there I read a very different name to the mosque outside its gate and came out again looking for "the mosque". So I asked someone on my way, which of the three was actually the Blue Mosque, which I later learnt was also called the "Sultanahmet Camii Mosque". He pointed at the one I had entered first, so although I had seen it, I went inside again to give it the due respect and detailed observation, now that I knew it WAS the blue mosque :). Spent some good time, took a few pictures with the help of friendly looking strangers roaming around willing to patiently click while I posed like a typical tourist. I was satisfied, I had done justice to all the hassle of getting the transit visa and risking my way out of the airport. I walked about but since it was early morning, most shops were closed and I decided to return back to the airport in good time.
I got the same opportunity on my way back from Toronto. This time I made it to the ctiy at around 6pm, much more confident and knowing my way around. It was a perfect time to join the evening rush and glow of the tourist areas. I decided to check out the famous 'Grand Bazaar' this time. This a popular shopping area with traditional turkish shops selling handwoven carpets, bags, clothes, wall hangings and what not. The turkish lights are beautiful - multi-coloured and very delicate in glass and wrought iron. I had some interesting exchanges with the shop keepers - some thought I was Iranian and others Egyptian but whoever I was, it was a way to lure me into buying their prized products.
I thoroughly enjoyed my walk all across the bazaar and infact I walked long enough to get to the Blue Mosque again. Istanbul, rightly known as the city of mosques, has a mosque of equal grandeur at literally every ten steps. The most beautiful part of the evening was the call (azaan) for the maghrib prayer. Suddenly all the mosques started the azaan and the city seemed to have risen above the ground in this beautiful synchornised echo. All the pedestrians and shopkeepers started walking towards their closest mosque (quite a choice they had). I also joined the congregational prayers at one of these mosques. The ladies area was upstairs and I happened to be only one out there but I actually enjoyed the combination of privacy in my area and being part of the group of people praying downstairs.
Later I grabbed the traditional Turkish 'Donor kebab' and walked across the colourful bazaar, enjoying the walk in the comfortably cold weather (this time of the day as compared to the chilly early morning on my last transit).
I happened to engage in conversation with a couple of Turks who were curious where I was from. When I told them I was from Pakistan, to my surprise they were extremely warm and pleasant and said "oh brother country, brother country" in sincere joy! Pakistanis today seldom get that kind of a response towards their identity and so I was touched. One of them who I met outside the mosque asked me if I could teach him names of the 5 prayers in Arabic, since he only knew them in Turkish. That was a pleasant sweet exchange of knowledge and he repeated the five in Arabic to make sure he remembered as I told them. Another two Turks I met in the cafe were discussing the recent upheaval in Middle East and were interested in my views on it. I also met an Afghan/Turk shop keeper who had lived sometime in Pakistan and managed to speak a little bit of Urdu. And so a truly Turkish evening it was!
