Sometimes it's so obvious that we're related...

The following is a mostly accurate rendition of a phone conversation I had with my mother last night. Interesting the things that I choose to spend valuable phone time on. Just imagine what we talk about when I'm in the same country...

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom!”

“Hi, Honey! It’s good to hear your voice! Just hang on, let me turn down the TV…okay, that’s better. How are you? How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine, getting better. I have a question for you…”

“Shoot”

“Um…have you ever seen white eggs before?”

“Well…yes – that’s what I buy all the time.”

“No, I mean eggs with white yolks.”

“What?”

“Yeah, I was going to make an omelet for dinner, and I cracked open the eggs, and the yolks are white.”

“Whitewhite?”

“Well, not exactly whitewhite, they’re more like the color of the egg whites themselves, except opaque. Kind of…ecru.”

“Ecru…? Your eggs are ecru?”

“They’re not my eggs, I got them from Lois.”

“Um…you got them from Lois?”

“She’s leaving for seven weeks, and wanted to clean out perishable stuff from her fridge.”

“Oh. So, she had been using them herself lately?”

“Yeah – she wouldn’t have given them to me if they’d been sitting around for a month or something. I think she gets some of her stuff from the consulate, they have a commissary there – it’s where all the Americans get their booze. I would imagine they can get other stuff there, too.”

“Well…if they’re Lois’ eggs, they’re probably okay. What kind of eggs are they?”

“What do you mean, ‘what kind of eggs are they’? They’re eggs.”

“Are they chicken eggs?”

“Oh. I think so. I mean, they look like chicken eggs.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well no, I’m not sure, but they’re the right size, the contents are just the wrong color.”

“Oh, I don’t know what to tell you, Honey. The eggs we had when we were there were always …well, normal. I don’t want you to get sicker. How do they smell?”

“They don’t smell like much of anything, which I took as a good sign. I was going to have them with a little cheese.”

“Are you sure that’s going to be good for your stomach? Why don't you have some mango instead?”

“Because I've already had three mangos today. I’m sure the eggs will be – hang on a second…”

*sounds of whacking, stomping, and mild swearing*

“Sorry – these freaking ants here are the size of Dobermans, it’s getting on my nerves. But back to what I was saying, I think that eggs will be fine with my stomach.”

“Can you do something about the ants?”

“Well, I just smashed the life out of a few of them, so that takes care of the immediate issue. But in terms of the larger problem, I would imagine that there’s something that can be done.”

“What kind of cheese are you using?”

“What - ?”

“For your omelet. What kind of cheese?”

*sounds of more stomping and whacking*

“Argh…I’m using some baby Havarti with dill. Die, die, you little suckers!!!”

“Ooh – that sounds lovely.”

“Yes, I think it will be quite tasty.”

“But I still don’t know what to tell you. Oh – do you have any Windex?”

“Excuse me?”

“For the ants. It will kill them, but it’s not as bad for you as things like Raid.”

“No, but I can probably get some.”

“Make sure you cook your omelet really thoroughly. I don't know about these eggs with the ecru yolks...”

“Right…yes, will do. One sec - ”

*whack*

"Stupid -"

*whack*

"freaking -"

*whack*

"ants!!"

*whack*

"Bloody hell child, that sounds like quite the massacre."

"They're not usually this bad."

“Thank goodness for that. Well, look, I don’t want you to get sick, you know.”

“From the eggs or from the Windex?”

“Well, from either one. Lord only knows what you could get from those things,”

“Fortunately, I don’t want me to get sick, either. I think it’ll be okay. They’re cooking up like a normal omelet, it just looks…paler.”

“That sounds revolting. I don’t know about this.”

“It’ll be fine, Ma. No worries.”

“Okay…be careful. And get some Windex, or ask Niaz to take care of it for you.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what I’ll end up doing.”

“I guess I’ll let you eat your dinner. Let me know if you need anything. We miss you and love you!”

“Love you guys, too. Tell Dad I said hi when he gets home. And don’t worry about the eggs, I’m pretty sure I’m not going to get botulism or anything.”

*silence*

“...that was a joke.”

“I know, I know…call if you need anything.”

“I will – bye Mom”

“Bye, Honey”

And all for the bargain price of 600 rupees worth of phone time…

Wow...sheep learn faster than me...

Every day a very nice young man from the office (wow, just saying it that way makes me sound so very old...) comes around and asks us what we would all like for lunch, and our tradition is to get samosas, which are quite tasty. But yesterday, I was thinking that more fried stuff for lunch wasn't what I had in mind, so I asked if they could get me some mixed veggies and naan (bread), assuming that if they came from the samosa guy, they would also be fine and all that, since the samosas had never given any of us any problems.

I may have been overly generous in that assumption.

I don't know if this counts as what my parents would refer to as "Karachi crud", a notorious and nonspecific digestive illness that struck every expat at one time or another when we lived here, but I'm working from home today in order to not have to try to look like I'm not feeling like crap - since that feels like too much work. I'm also drinking lots of water - hydration is key, you know.

Lois leaves today for her home leave - meaning she'll be back on July 25th, after I leave. Which is too bad, I have come to really like Lois, and I think she's extremely cool for taking jobs like the one she has (she's also been a principal at international schools in Bolivia and Spain) and just deciding that she's going to do this stuff by herself. So my playmate is leaving, which makes me sad - but apparently the American Consulate Club has dart nights on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe I'll see if they'll let me in with just my passport and I can befriend some Marines or construction guys, since they're likely to be the only people here at this time of year. (And Darren - any jokes you might come up with regarding that last sentence, I've already thought of. I'm just sayin'.)

I heard from Judy today, and apparently she spoke with our COO about my..."popularity". He told her that if I felt unsafe, they'd pull me out, but that it was my decision and that if I was comfortable staying here, they'd let me stay. I think I've sufficiently put the kibosh on the unnecessary friendliness, so things should be fine - plus, our project manager returns from vacation on Monday. Even though he'll be based in Hyderabad, it will be good to have him here, I don't think I have much more to be worried about.

Back to work for me - I'm creating data entry spreadsheets to use with our completed surveys...whenever they get completed. (In some ways, it feels like everything is a work in progress here.)

Slight change in plans

Well, it looks as though I will not be traveling up to the villages next week, which isn't the end of the world, to be honest. It's a very long, very uncomfortable trip, and my presence there for this trip is not necessary - G-man essentially just wants show me off and have someone to write his trip reports for him. But since he sent me a box of mangos to the house (very nice) with a bunch of red roses (kind of creepy and inappropriate, particularly since I'm a single woman here by myself) and started inviting me to dinner and asking me to call him by his first name (not done here), I was feeling more and more uncomfortable with the idea of being out in the middle of nowhere with him, even if I did have Hamid with me.

So I spoke with Judy about this, since it all started after she left, and she put the kibosh on the trip. I'm not generally a paranoid person, but this, combined with the other guy on the project based in another city who started IMing me and asking me to post my picture online for him, and who said I should call him any time I "got lonely" (also inappropriate, particularly in this culture) made for a very awkward situation. I told the IMing guy that I would appreciate it if he would keep our correspondence to work-related matters, and he said okay, so he should back off. But G-man is going to be a little more tricky, as I need to continue to work with him.

In any case, I'm sorry to miss another trip out to places like Mataro Hingoro and Mau, because it was wonderful to meet the people there and talk to them. But I'm far more comfortable with the NGO that we have in place now, they have a lot of experience in these issues, and I think they'll do a good job of making sure that everyone is heard and that we'll get good baseline data. Now all that remains for me is to think of ways to make this trip a productive one that will serve its main purpose for me - to make me more marketable and build up my resume. But if I have to spend the next seven weeks writing reports that I could have easily written in Washington, I'm going to be more than a little disappointetd.

Sorry I'm not exactly Susie Sunshine today - it's been a rough day or two. It'll be better tomorrow.

One more time

It appears that we're heading up to the villages again next week. Since the NGO that G-man had so badly wanted to use, for reasons totally unrelated to their ability to actually perform the work, had no experience or capacity to do the work, we have had to revisit our options. Happily, we have found an NGO that appears to be competent and has experience in this area, so I'm going up with them as they field test the survey. It should be interesting, and let's all hope that the car makes it this time, on the first try. Not that the first trip wasn't fun and all, but once makes for a good story. Twice starts to get on your nerves. But I'm sure that G-man will talk my ear off, I'm sure the food will be tasty once again, and I'm sure that I will remain "on the cutting edge of Pakistani fashion." *ahem*

My meeting today with G-man was supposed to start at 12. So I arrived at 11:55, and found an empty office. His assistants told me that he would be there shortly. Apparently "shortly" means "an hour". I sat there and read through my planner, read the little blurbs about "The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People" that are in there, as well as some of the quotes that are supposed to be motivational. Thank goodness for that, or I would have had to chew my own arm off for entertainment. But you see, G-man is the sort of person who very much likes feeling important, and that manifests itself in all kinds of ways. One of those ways is strolling into a meeting an hour late and breezily saying "I hope you didn't mind waiting. I told them to bring you an orange drink." It also manifests itself in him calling me at 9:15 pm on a Sunday to tell me something that could have easily been communicated to me on Monday - but he likes to feel as though people are at his beck and call. Or maybe he just expects it, because so many people are. Ah, the good times.

Not to spend too much time talking about the interesting translations of things (and as a correction - the diet/power yoga clinic sign said "We Exhaust Your Fatness!", I was remembering it incorrectly), but we passed a store today called "Karachi Arms Dealers". Now, I would think that's the kind of thing you might want to keep on the d-l, but perhaps not. To offer explanation, the sign said, in small print, "We are authorized to deal in firearms, ammunition, and various other weapons" Well, good. It's sort of like one-stop shopping. They're like the Target of arms dealers.

I had an interesting morning trying to get my visa extended. The only reason I have to do this at all, mind you, is because the person who was supposed to take care of it in our Washington office got my visa for one month, not four. When I told her this, she said "oh, well, it's really easy to get it extended once you're there." What I should have said was "well, that may be true. But I'll bet it's not easier than having you do it over and getting it right this time." Alas, I didn't say that, because I was caught up in getting everything settled before my departure. So I tell the useless oxygen thief that I need to get this done, and can he take care of it? Oh, no problem. Then a few days later, I ask him what the status is, and he says I have to wait a few more days, then go down to the immigration office with him. Oh, and we can't leave before 10:30, because the office isn't open that early. What a lovely coincidence, considering that's about the time he ambles in every morning!

Both incidents bring to mind a line from "Notting Hill":

So, tell me, Martin. If I were to employ a wet rag, would I have to pay it as much as I pay you?

Life in Karachi is many things, but dull is not one of them - not yet, anyway.

Another Sunday...

...another day at the pool! It is 104 in the shade today, so clearly the best place to be was by the pool. As Lois pointed out, I'm so pale, I'm "practically blue". So I'm working on that. The swimming is coming along nicely, too, so that's fun.

Judy left on Friday, and called me Saturday morning from Lahore, when she was supposed to be in New York, because her plane had "structural difficulties", which is apparently what PIA says when the wing is about to come off the plane. Seriously. Although really, it's still better to take care of that kind of thing when you're in a place where you can actually land. I'm hoping she's made it to New York by now. Yeeshk.

It's been quiet since she left, but I've been reading, and I even saw "Scrubs" the other night with Urdu subtitles - there are a few other familiar shows on cable, which was surprising, to say the least. The thing that is funniest about being here is looking at signs and things. Most signs are actually in English, which was very surprising to me. Someone I know here said that it's almost a status symbol to speak and read English, and you're almost looked down upon if you can't understand it. Very strange to see people almost reject their own culture, when it's interesting and unique, I would think they'd want to embrace it. Although, it does make it a little easier for me to get around, so I'm not exactly complaining.

The translation factor is interesting, though. Gas tankers, which are painted the way the buses are, have "DANGER: HIGHLY INFLAMMABLE" written on the back. I also saw an advertisement for a weight loss clinic that said "We Kill Your Fatness!" I am not making this up. I also see plenty of cars and trucks with license plate numbers painted on. If only we had such a simple and efficient system in the US, registering your car would be a snap! Of course, it would be harder for them to keep the naughty words off license plates that way. Ah well, pros and cons.

G-man invited me to come over to his house for dinner - very nice invitation, so I said "oh, that's very kind of you - that would be lovely", but honestly, I see him way more than I want to already. Ah well, it is a very nice invitation, so I must be gracious. I can have hermit tendencies, and I think this is the perfect situation for me to indulge them. I can't decide yet if I'll be going out all the time once I get home, or if I'm just going to want to enjoy being back in my own place and stay home. But it will be very nice to have my mobility and independence back - that's what's nice about the pool at the American school - there's a big wall surrounding the whole school, which is topped by about 4 feet of barbed wire, and it's patrolled by armed security guards, and surrounded by 200 Army officers. Lois, who lives next door, has the only door through that wall leading onto the cricket field. She said that I could use her door to get to the pool once she's gone back to the US for home leave, thereby making it the only thing I can do by myself, no driver, no supervision, no "protection" - and that cricket field is probably the safest place for me to be in the whole city.

I'm heading over to Lois's house to watch a movie and have some dinner - so I'd best be moving along. I'm going to try to find a place to get pictures developed and placed on a CD, since Judy has taken her digital camera with her. Once I find a place, I'll be posting some more pictures. I'd best be going - got to finish making dinner!