SO THIS IS NIGER

Clash of civilizations or not?

Posted by: Lewana at June 25, 2006 11:40 | link | comments (21)
karachi, human rights

Love thy neighbours?

I try to love my neighbours, says one of my girl friends, but I wish they would not burn their rubbish on the empty lot next to our house.

 
I know exactly what she means. We both could live in a tolerable neighbourhood if only our neighbours showed a bit more civic sense. But the sad fact is that no one is bothered to keep their properties beyond their high walls neat and tidy.

 
They are as blind to rubbish heaps beyond their properties as they are blind to the omnipresent plastic bags fluttering in the breeze. They are totally unaware that each carelessly dropped bag will be blocking an already dilapidated drainage system. No one cares about the resulting pollution of the sea.  

 
In my own apartment block which is considered an upmarket location the stairs leading to the entry hall and the hall itself is rarely swept. And of course, it does worry no one that the walls are grimy and all too often even speckled with beetle nut spit. Worse still is the appalling plumbing and the sewerage that regularly floods the underground garage.

 
Once, when I broached the subject about the stinking garage I was told that the committee could barely manage to pay for the regular servicing of the elevator and that many residents failed to pay the monthly maintenance fee.

 
When one day  I got hold of the janitor and pointed him in the direction of a fat rat having a go at a packet of half-finished chips, he nodded cheerfully, turned on his heel and left for prayers.

 
I have lived for the last 30 years in many Third World Countries, but never did I have to endure such a noisy and filthy neighbourhood. The mullah in the mosque below my study is a case in point. Five times a day he calls to the faithful in the most unmelodious and torturous voice. He is very keen to turn his loudspeakers to full blast, but he is definitely no Caruso. Worse still are Fridays when his young students are frog marched in single file from the Madrassa next door towards the mosque and then are made to wail their hearts out too. This weekly concert is hardly a pleasure since the boys are at an age when breaking voices tend to squeak.

"For someone who isn’t born and bred to the chant of the Koran it is hard to understand its spell." I say to my friend.

“There should be a law that students should learn to sing the Koran only in a sound proof cellar or perhaps somewhere in the middle of the desert”, says my friend. And I nod and say: “If I was as rich as Angelina Jolie I would make funds available to send the noisy and unmusical bunch at least for a year to Egypt or Malaysia. Perhaps they would return with a sweeter voice and perhaps, if they studied hard they would have a slight chance to take part in the annual Koran singing contest in Kuala Lumpur upon their return.

I  also would donate money to the Afghan refugee children who sift the rubbish next to the mosque for bits of metal and other resalable stuff to fill their stomachs at least once a day. No one, least of all my local neighbourhood mullah appears to notice these poor children's blights at all.

Perhaps it is Allah’s will that nothing will ever change in Karachi?

Posted by: Lewana at June 22, 2006 18:14 | link | comments (5)
love thy neighbours, karachi

Internet Censorship in Pakistan

Bad news for me and fellow bloggers Kousik et al who were hoping that my failure to access my friends blogs could speedily be rectified. Not so, as I had to learn today from my Internet Service provider who finally admitted that PTCL (Pakistan Telecommunication Company Limited) has blocked these sites.

A short Google search revealed very quickly the reasons for my failure to access my friend’s blogspot sites.  The OpenNet Initiative has a worldwide searchable map.  You are only one mouse click away to check out your own country.

“Pakistan has ordered Internet Service Providers (ISPs) to filter sites that host cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad, as well as Baluch sites related to the Baluchistan independence movement and local insurgency. The ISPs blocked access to all blogs hosted on Blogspot because a single blog was on the list.”

Fingers crossed here that I won’t be ending up on this black list for mentioning the Cartoons and for having written a travel article about Baluchistan.

I strongly oppose this form of censorship. It is as ridiculous as it was boycotting, for example the sale of Danish butter and Feta Cheese in Karachi.

I am hoping that Pakistan will soon come to its senses again – just like my local supermarket learned very quickly that it makes economic sense to have these products on their shelves again.

One really has to questions the parameters of Pakistan’s filtering parameters if a Quotation site - it is called 'thinkexist' is blacklisted too. After all, what could be so fatal about doing a search for i.e. human rights or freedom of expression? Or am I missing something more sinister here?

Posted by: Lewana at June 10, 2006 16:41 | link | comments (3)
karachi, internet censorship

From the IT HUB Karachi

HELP

For the last month – ever since I have returned to Karachi – I have been unable to access the sites of my fellow bloggers at www.blogspot.com .

Could anyone of you find a minute or so and check out some of the links below and let me know whether you had access to these sites at your locations?

 Many Thanks for your time

http://bangaloreshutterbugs.blogspot.com/

http://deepakg.blogspot.com/

http://indiauncut.blogspot.com/

http://kousik.blogspot.com/

http://artmeliana.blogspot.com/

http://roshanpaul.blogspot.com/

Posted by: Lewana at June 08, 2006 18:13 | link | comments (3)
karachi

The Nursery

“I’ll take you also to the 'laser' shop today”, says my elegant French girlfriend, as I sink blissfully into the soft upholstery of her air-conditioned car.

“To the laser shop, Danielle?” I say, a trifle puzzled. “I thought we are going to the antique dealer?” “Do you think I need laser treatment, perhaps even a couple of botox shots? I had no idea that the Australian sun has ruined my face that badly.”

 “Non, non”, she laughs, “if you have enough time today, after the antique shop we’ll go to the laser shop, ‘elmi.”

I can’t figure out what Danielle’s means by ‘laser shop’ but I am over the moon with the news of our next posting and can’t wait to spill the beans. “We have been posted to Bujumbura”, I blurt out. “Mon Dieux!” she says after a short pause. Are you sure you want to go to Burundi? “You know, ‘elmi, neither all the king’s horses nor all the kings men could get me back to Africa ever again.

 “Well, yes”, I say. “I know that it will be a tough place to go to but I always wanted to see the genuine ‘Gorillas in the Mist’ – and Burundi is probably the closest I am ever gonna get to them in the wild without having to spend a king’s ransom.”

 “Bien sure. There is lots of wildlife in Burundi. Hippopotamus’ and crocodiles in Lake Tanganjika, and billions of malaria mosquitoes, too”, not to mention gun-toting rogue soldiers out of control most of the time.” she says dryly.

Danielle definitely knows what she is talking about. Born in Morocco she has lived half her life in various parts of Africa including Burundi.

Then she leans forward and says to her driver: “We go the nursery first, Martin”. (She pronounces his name Martine) “Oh, that’s nice”, I say distractedly, wondering whether I should rather practice my rusty French with Danielle in anticipation of our next tour of duty.  “I wouldn’t mind buying a few plants for my terrace, too. (To me – an avid gardener ‘nursery’ is inevitably associated with a garden centre.)

 “Non, non, the furniture market is called the Nursery.” “Definitely not a blade of grass to be found there”, Danielle says. Martin drives Danielle’s new car coolly amidst the usual havoc, finding his way with ease amongst the sprawling houses and shops and finally turning with confidence into a narrow lane that is flanked right and left with furniture shops.

 Nazar & Son’s shop is something of a revelation. The large cavernous ground floor is stacked to the ceiling with everything that Faizal-e-Rabbi advertises on his business card: ‘Old teak furniture, Doors, Colams (sic!) and Persion (sic!) Carpets, etc…’  In the middle of it all, Fazal, the English speaking owner is presiding over his collection of antique furniture. He is a middle-aged man dressed in a none- too-clean shalwar kameez and sporting the standard straggly beard Muslim men favour in Pakistan. I am not too sure what he means with the “etc” on his advertisement but there sure is an amazing array of dust and cobweb covered pieces of attractive Victorian furniture on display.

 Against one wall leans a set of wrought-iron grills that would look fantastic if I integrated them into our garden sandstone wall in Perth. And as I poke about the treasure my eyes fall onto a stunning settee in dire need of restoration. “This set – once restored and re-upholstered would be perfect for the conservatory I am yet to build at our cottage in Australia”. I say to Danielle and sigh regretfully.

Yet, one can’t have everything. And of course, I end up not buying a small rosewood cabinet with a striking inlay of peacocks I did choose so carefully and bargained so painfully for in the oppressive heat and humidity. On our way out I discover behind another grimy cupboard a gorgeous ‘armoire’, made out of rosewood and the most exquisite design and mother of pearl inlay work. “Dead right”, I say to Danielle in French, quite shocked at the price tag. “It has to be the most expensive piece of the whole lot on display I have to fall in love with.”  On top of it all Fazal is rather uninterested to sell it at the prize I offer him. By now, Danielle and I are slowly dissolving in the humid heat and in the end I weakly agree to pay 65 000 PKR for the fully restored cabinet.

“Think of the money you would have to pay at IKEA’s in Paris”, Danielle says soothingly as we are heading towards her mysterious laser shop.

Could you figure out where Danielle took me next?

To be continued…

 

Posted by: Lewana at June 06, 2006 00:57 | link | comments (3)
karachi, the nursery