Colors

by Asma Hassan

My driver and I ready to hit the road.

I dug out my travel diary to write this article, which I got especially for my trip to Pakistan in December 2006. It was one of the most expensive hand painted diaries from Barnes and Noble, with the Earth beautifully imprinted on it in gold foil. I thought it was perfectly appropriate to record my first real travel experience.

I was more than ecstatic. It was my first trip to anywhere, and it was Pakistan (I had gone once before when I was only 9 months old). All the excitement and hype boiled down to the morning of my flight. I made sure one last time that I had everything I needed, and a lot of that which I didn’t. I was traveling alone since my mom was already there.

I couldn’t have been more thrilled and energized! Peanuts on the plane, reading my book and writing my diary, chewing gum to prevent my ears from popping, I had it all planned out.

As the plane took off, I was feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness. It would be the first time, for the most part, that I would be meeting most of my family. Besides that, it would also be the first time I saw any place other than Houston, Texas.

From what my friends had told me, Pakistan and India were “so much fun!” From family, to food, to shopping, to weddings and parties, I was anticipating a Bollywood-type set with a burst of color every where I looked. With that in mind, I did not question the reality of what I would face when I stepped off the plane: CULTURE SHOCK.

After that I continued to be electrocuted, shock after shock after shock…

To my surprise, cows always seemed to be crossing the roads.

SHOCK #1: “Where are the restrooms? Wait, what? That hole in the floor??” For any one who has been to Pakistan/India, you know what I am talking about. For those of you who haven’t, let me inform you, though no one felt the need to inform me: most “toilets” consist of holes in the restroom floor. I guess no one felt the need to inform me that I would need impeccable balance and thigh strength to endure one of those. Needless to say, I had to change my clothes after every restroom break until we finally got a toilet installed in my restroom.

SHOCK #2: “On the roads, there is only one rule: there are NO rules.” If you want to know paranoia, that would be me in the car/rickshaw/taxi. No one follows road rules – and honking is considered an indicator to move out of the way and move out of the way NOW! I do have to admit, however, that it was almost as fun sometimes as it was horrifying. And, if you thought motorcycles were built for one, think family of 7.

Definitely tasty! (But, I paid for it later...)

SHOCK #3: “Don’t drink that water, or eat that food…” For anyone not accustomed to the food overseas, it may not be the best idea for your body to expose it to the diarrhea/vomit-inducing food of the overseas. Though, I have to admit the hours spent in the “toilet” were well worth the deliciousness of the food! I carried a 2-liter boiled-water bottle around with me everywhere I went, but I did allow myself a taste of this and a taste of that.

SHOCK #4: “Don’t open your mouth.” Unless, of course, you want to seriously tick off your bargaining-award winning aunt trying to get you a good deal on that already ridiculously cheap (fill in the blank). Most of the time the vendors were already well-aware that you were foreign but if they get the faintest idea that you have beaucoup-rupees, well, face it, you’re going to get ripped off. But this rule doesn’t apply just while shopping for clothes, jewelry and shoes – it applies to anywhere outside of your house and sometimes inside too…
One particular district – the color dying district was especially fascinating to me. There, within minutes, you could dye anything to any color – and when I say any, I mean it in the literal term. Be it cloth, furniture, jewelry. I found it to be so amazing walking down a long street with men working meticulously by their large steaming/boiling pots of water. Situated all around them were the finest of fine colored dye powders which they would add to the water to get the precise color one wanted. They managed to dip their hands and arms into the boiling hot water, twirling the cloth into the dying water. My “wows” and “dangs” definitely did not manage to get us any discounts there.

Driving around was always an experience.

SHOCK #5-Infinite… I can write on and on about my observances in Pakistan, the list and experiences are endless.

Honestly, through all the culture shocks, I had the greatest time of my life… Every corner I turned and every character I met was so meaningful – every corner shop was full of nothing but colors. Not exactly the Bollywood I was expecting, but colors, music, characters, sights and experiences everywhere nonetheless.

I have to admit that while actually there, I did find certain things (and people) to be unbearable. I wanted to do nothing but leave. However, now in retrospect, I did live through it, and loved every second of it – and if only I had $1,900 for a plane ticket, I would go back in a heartbeat!

The lookout from the terrace where I was staying.

I will write more, as well as post excerpts from my travel diary, about the crazy things I experienced in the future… Leave a comment about your overseas experiences too!

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