Karachi Sojourner

When the terrible earthquake struck Northen Pakistan last year creating so much death and destruction, I was personally saddened because I had fond memories of my visit to Murray, Islamabad and Abbottabad. I crossed some of the mountains there and witnessed some of the most beautiful landscapes ever. I also wondered if my friends who owned a chicken farm outside Abbottabad and whom I stayed with briefly, but have since lost touch, were spared. Below is one of the articles I wrote about my travels for the Karachi "Star".

Here I am, writing this column on board the "Chenab", as it chugs its slow meandering way across the Punjab, stopping at every little town it passes. "You are going by train!. . . and by the Chenab of all trains!" friends exclaimed in horror when I told them I was planning my holiday up North, courtesy of Pakistan Railways. Warnings of being robbed (Think of the daughter of the ex-governor of Sind who was robbed on the Peshawar Express, they cheerfully reminised); Being suffocated by an AC breakdown (stop the train, advised one concerned fatherly friend); And losing one's young daughters on the way (don't ever get down from the train until you reach Pindi, they warned).

Hostile

It really wasn't my fault that I bought tickets on the Chenab and not on the more civilised trains like the Khyber Mail, the Shalimar Express, or the Tezgam: the only tickets to Pindi left when I went to City Station were for the Chenab.

So it was with much apprehension that I set off on my holiday to Abbottabad/Nathragali/Islamabad with the Ayah ( female domestic) and my two small daughters in tow. The train journey to Pindi (Rawalpindi) was to last 30 hours (2 nights and one day) and at Pindi we would be met by a close family friend who would drive us to his home in Abbottabad. We had bought 3 tickets for the air-conditioned sleeper class (my youngest daughter went gratis) and wondered what kind of travelling companion we would have, as each compartment slept four.

Seconds before the train pulled out of City Station, we found out. A tall, fair, youngish man entered our compartment, looking shocked when he saw us. Thinking he was a railway inspector or something, I was suprised when he reappeared with two suitcases and threw them on the upper bunk. It transpired he was our travelling companion: a Pathan air-force flight lieutenant on his way to Faisalabad. He was most hostile and agitated and our conversation went something like this:

He: I am from the NW Frontier Province and I can't sleep in the same compartment with ladies.

Me: [dressed in a shalwar kamis (pakistani outfit) complete with dopata (shawl)]
It's not my fault. I am a foreigner. Ask your government why it allows this.

He: The guard should do something about this, who's she?( pointing to my ayah)

Me: My ayah. you do something about it. I don't mind your presence. I am not a Muslim.

He: It is not a matter of you minding. It's me who minds!

Detente

After that there was a long silence during which the gentleman sulked and made many trips at regular intervals to ask the guard for a change of compartment; but alas with no success. Eventually, he gave up and retreated for the rest of the evening to the safety of his upper bunk. From there he relented, and said graciously "Please carry on with whatever you are doing. Treat me as if I don't exist". Came dinner time and as my ayah dished out the delicious rotis and curries that my cook had prepared, I felt sorry for the guy and gingerly extended the olive branch by offering him some food. He hesitated but the temptation was too great and he sheepishly ate 2 of my chappatis and some curry while still up on the upper bunk.

But detente was definitely on its way. We even managed a civilised conversation during which he told me he was an air force man and where he was heading, while I mentioned I was a Singaporean and my husband worked for th UN. And wonders of all wonders, he even played with my two daughters and looked at their painting books. We bade each other a cordial good night after I handed him my latest "Newsweek" and "Far Eastern Economic Review" to read which he gladly accepted. At 5 am the next morning, the attendant woke us all up and told him that he had managed to find an all male compartment for him. We said a hurried goodbye and that was the last I saw of him.

The episode gave me much food for thought that night. It was my first actual encounter with something I had heard so much about both before and after coming to Pakistan. I kept thinking about this educated, pleasant enough, young man lying in the top bunk: about his background, culture, and religion, all that made him into what he was. I conjured up a mental picture of his wife. (I assumed he was married) probably a housewife observing strict purdah and not minding being confined within the four walls of his house. There is still so much for me to observe and learn about this country.

Return

How was the Chenab? For all my friends who worried, I would like to reassure them that I am fine and that the Chenab, contrary to their expectations, was very nice and confortable indeed. The compartment was spacious and clean, and thank goodness the air-condition did not break down, not even once. In fact, it was probably the best train journey I have experienced and I have travelled by rail both in Malaysia and in China. In China, the first class compartment was better furnished and newer, but smaller and more cramped. Malaysian trains compare very badly indeed. First class compartments are dirty and cramped and one is often subjected to guards opening the door without warning to check for stowaways. Malaysian trains are also notorious for delays. Slow as it was, the Chenab did chug into Pindi on time:5.30 am in the morning and our friend Kookie was already there on the platform, with a welcoming smile. In fact I am so satisfied with Pakistan Railways that I am making the return journey by rail as well.

An unexpected but happy result of this column was that the Chairman of Pakistan Railways was so moved by it that he wrote me a letter offering me and my family one year's free travel on Pakistan Railways! Unfortunately, with my busy schedule as the wife of a UN diplomat in Karachi, free-lance journalist, plus mother of two, I cannot remember ever having taken advantage of this offer.