And the word of the day is...

YEAH BABY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so that's two words. BUT, I just found out that we signed the contract for Vietnam which means that I'm going! WAHOO!! I e-mailed the project manager to see when he wants me to arrive and all that good stuff, so I have absolutely no details at the moment, but I am still SO excited! I think that it will make the most sense for me to leave and come back here, and I don't think it's going to extend my time away, but that sort of thing is, clearly, still undetermined.

I am totally doing a happy dance in my head. Because I'm at work, and it might garner a few strange looks were I to do it at my desk. I mean, I suppose that, as is the custom in my company, I shouldn't be convinced that I'm really going until I get on the plane, but at the moment, it looks like that's the case! This is just so great.

Work here is actually going well at the moment. I finally feel like I've hit my stride a little more, and I have a plan of action in my head, of sorts. I had a few meetings yesterday, I've got some reading and research to do today, and my "to do" lists that I make each morning are getting longer. But they're also getting done, so it's all good.

Since it's Saturday, we only work a half day, so I'm heading straight to the pool when we get out of here, then I'm going to see the tailor tonight - it was supposed to be last night, but there was a change of plans. I'm going to have a few more salwar kameez made, but I'm going to modify them slightly so I can wear them in Vietnam, too. Vietnamese women are, generally speaking, the size of my pinky, so finding clothes there would undoubtedly be a little tricky. Ah, the logistics of international travel. (Geez - could I sound any more pretentious? Sorry...)

That's my news - nothing terribly exciting going on in the 'stan, but no news is good news, right?

You say you want a resolution....

Little Beatles reference for you there - sing along now!

After thinking and thinking about the way the situation with G-man was developing, I was starting to have serious reservations about the approach that had been identified – speaking with his supervisor and then having his supervisor deal with him. The reasons I was having reservations about this are not because I was worried about whether or not G-man would still like me or have high self-esteem or any of those things – to be honest, I don’t give a crap. However, the goal of all of this much-appreciated effort was to return my working environment to one that is professional, productive, and comfortable. Good goal, no?

Well, G-man being torn a new one by his boss was not likely to accomplish this goal, because someone who has no qualms about hitting on women he works with doesn’t exactly meet my standards of “professionalism”. And he would probably not think twice about taking it out on me for the rest of my time here, thereby making my working environment a great deal less comfortable and productive. It’s hard to explain what it is about him, but he is very concerned with appearances, appearing important, appearing as though he is all-knowing and all-powerful, etc. When I was at his office for a meeting last week and he had someone bring us lunch (vegetable patties), he berated the guy who brought in the food for putting a couple on each plate, instead of all of them on a platter so we could each take what we wanted. Once he was done yelling at this confused man, he turned to me and said “they just don’t know how to serve”, as if expecting me to sympathetically roll my eyes and make some comment about how it’s so hard to find good help these days and I just had the houseboy flogged for not doing a proper hospital corner on the sheets or something. Kind of like an intellectual Napoleon complex of sorts.

So my solution is this: if (when?) I receive my next “invitation”, I will clearly tell him myself that this kind of behavior is neither appropriate nor professional. If his behavior continues after that, I am fine with people speaking to his boss, because he will have been warned (not that he doesn’t already know better) and I will have zero sympathy. Not that I really have a lot of sympathy now, but hopefully you get my meaning. Besides, I am more comfortable playing an active role in this kind of situation, instead of the little girl who needs the big men to speak up for her. I can speak for myself, after all, I just need a little time to collect my thoughts sometimes. What has helped in all of this was knowing that I had support from my company and the project manager, and most importantly, my transition from being upset to being pissed off. I don’t like victim mentality and the “poor me, all these bad things are happening to me” that comes along with it, because it’s paralyzing and you convince yourself that you can’t do anything to change your situation. This is far more productive for me anyway.

While driving out to Clifton the other day, I spotted a sign that I couldn’t help but be amused by. It was a hand-painted sign mounted at an intersection, and it said “Dr. Tanveer’s Ultrasound and Mammography”, with a phone number below. Now, I’m sure that Dr. Tanveer is a very nice man, and that he’s got a good little practice going there. But it just looked a little too much to me like the Pakistani equivalent of “Dr. Bob’s Mammography Hut”, which would strike me as a little shady, and maybe not my first choice for medical care. Just sayin’. It’s the little things that amuse me, as someone in a foreign environment.

Life in Pakistan continues, and things appear to be okay these days. The weekend is coming (eventually), and I’ll be spending some quality time by the pool again. I’m also heading to a tailor to get some clothes made, which I’m really excited about. No word yet on Vietnam, but I’ve got my fingers crossed!

Now, why didn't I think of that?

I got a lovely package today from my roommate, Marie (thank you so much, by the way!). When it went through customs, they opened it, which wasn’t terribly surprising, despite Marie’s careful and meticulous documentation of the contents of the package. And even despite her writing “TAMPONS” very clearly as part of the contents and liberally distributing them throughout the box – as that’s a common way to deter male customs officials in this part of the world from truly ransacking whatever it is they’re “examining”. But what struck me as hilarious was that they then charged me a repackaging fee. It was only 10 rupees (so, approximately 15 cents), but I thought that was the most ingenious way I’ve ever heard of to generate revenue.

Life in Pakistan is many things, but it is certainly not dull.

The other day, we were driving to the office, and as we drove through the intersection in fits and starts, I said “Um…Hamid? Are the traffic lights out?” and he said “Yes, Miss! No signal!” The funny thing was that I really didn’t notice right away. I would have to nominate the guys in white uniforms who stand out in the middle of the road directing traffic all day for the “You Cannot Possibly Be Paid Enough For What You Do” award. Because as I’ve mentioned before, I’ve noticed that things like lines on the road and traffic signals appear to be taken more as friendly suggestions here than actual “rules”. It’s interesting enough when the signals are working. When they’re not, it’s a curiously civilized “every man for himself” game. Whoever looks from left to right the least, thereby showing the least developed sense of self-preservation, wins by making it through the intersection the fastest. I’ve also noticed that, at one intersection in particular, if the turn lane is just too full of people, the common solution is to just get onto the other side of the road and make your turn when the light is mostly green. I say mostly green because here yellow lights appear not only before a light turns red, but also before it turns green.

I had another meeting today about the situation with G-man, and I really hate the fact that any of this is happening in the first place, because I don’t want to be the main attraction here, I just want to do my freaking job. Apparently, our project manager is going to speak with G-man’s superior, who will then take the matter up with G-man. There is no possible way that this won’t make working with him a heck of a lot more awkward. Although, the alternative is for me to continue to deal with G-man’s inappropriate behavior just to make him feel more comfortable – and I don’t really like that option, either. So I suppose, if I have to take sides here, I’m taking my side. Because just wishing that G-man had a different personality and personal code of conduct isn’t going to do the trick. I tend to have an aversion to “being rescued” as most of you probably know, but I guess that this is the way this has to go.

Okay – just to wrap things up on a high note here, the following is a direct translation of the introduction to the budget speech that we saw in “Dawn”, an English-language newspaper here.

“Budget is presented every year and, God willing, till such time that this world exists, the budget of Pakistan will continue to be presented.”

Nothin’ like a little drama to spice up a budget speech. I wonder if they had interpretive dance, too?

Eureka!

I seem to have found a way to resolve the samosa issue (the issue being that I am so sick of fried food), by doing a big ol’ grocery shopping trip yesterday. I actually had Hamid take me to the fancy-schmancy market that’s farther away than the ones we normally go to, but I think it was worth it. Now I just need to find a good vegetable stand, and I'll be set for a while. (Although, produce here doesn’t get the preservative bath that it does in the States, so you need to eat it quickly.) I bought a large bag of lentils (some of which I cooked up with some ginger last night…yummy), and a large bag of rice. I’m likely to grow tired of lentils in the near future as well, but at least they’re good for me in the interim. And this means that I can make my lunch! Since the house is not equipped with a Pakistani Fry Daddy, I should be able to explore the wonderful world of NON-fried foods. Yay!

As I got in the car yesterday afternoon, I noticed that the radio and tape deck were back (they were taken out for repairs), and I mentioned this to Hamid. He cheerfully said “Yes, Miss! Radio is fixed!” and turned on the only English-language radio station he knew of (“This is English!”). I can’t fully describe how surreal it is to be cruising down Sharae Faisal (one of the main drags in the city) listening to “Heart of Glass”. It’s only slightly more surreal than cruising back the other way, listening to Indian hip-hop. (Hamid really likes Indian music, and I’m game to try anything, so I don’t mind.) I realize that when I describe Hamid’s speech, I have a tendency to use exclamation points a lot, but he just sounds so darn chipper most of the time, it seems appropriate.

I spoke with my boss about the situation here at work, and he was appalled, and said that if, at any time, I feel unsafe, to just go to the airport and get on a plane, and he’ll approve whatever expenses are necessary. I really don’t think it’s going to come to that, but it’s nice to know that I have support in this situation. I’m still trying to get in touch with the project manager, who should be back in town today, and I’m hoping that this will get resolved. It just really sucks, because the IMing guy is our local resettlement specialist, and I had wanted to do some resettlement work while I was here to gain experience – but I don't know that I want to work with someone who thinks it's okay to ask a female colleague to send him pictures of herself. I’ll have to see how that works out – since I put the smackdown on his IMing, I haven’t heard a peep from him. Also, having so much support from people in the company, I would feel more comfortable confronting him if it the unprofessional, lecherous behavior surfaced again.

G-man is supposed to be back from his field trip, so I’ll need to get some information from him and am likely to have to meet with him again. I would imagine that it will be fine, and if I get another dinner invite, I’ll just tell him that it would be most appropriate to keep our contact to work-related matters. At first I had thought the dinner invitation was a “have dinner at my house with my family because you’re here alone” nice gesture. The second time he made the offer, it was clear that his wife and kids would not be included... He also offered to take me shopping to show me where to get furniture (I’m on a quest for some of that beautiful Pakistani furniture that my parents have – I’m also taking requests – I’ll see if I can negotiate a flat shipping fee! It’ll be a sea shipment, so as long as you’re not in a hurry, let me know!), when what would have been appropriate in this culture would have been for him to say that his wife would take me shopping. It’s a strange landscape for me to navigate in a lot of ways, but I really appreciate the support I’m getting from people at my company, and I’m feeling far less adrift than I was last week.

Still sucks, though.

There’s a possibility that I may get to go to Vietnam for a couple weeks to work on a project there, and I would LOVE to go. It’s one of those places that I’ve always wanted to see. And it would be a nice break from life here, to be honest – I’d get to walk around by myself and everything! I had wanted to take a lot more pictures while I was here, but since my mobility is so limited, there haven’t been as many opportunities as I had hoped for.

It’s funny, because one thing that I’ve noticed about being over here is that, all difficulties with my current assignment aside, and as much as it was really hard to leave, the thought of going somewhere else next doesn’t seem so bad. It’s hard to explain, because I miss all of you a lot, and I love my home and my life in the States, but I’m also aware that so few Americans get to see the corners of the world that I could have the chance to see in this job, and that’s not something I want to take for granted, or pass up while these opportunities exist. Ah, the eternal conflict. (Well, maybe it’s just my eternal conflict.) Wanting home and the world at the same time.

Well, look at me, getting all philosophical. I can be, like, totally deep and think-y when I want to, you know.

Be on the lookout!

I have seen this music video here that is the funniest, most bizarre thing I've ever beheld, and apparently it's quite popular and climbing the charts in the US. The song is called Rock the Party, by the Bombay Rockers, and it's quite catchy, if generic. But the video...ah, the video. It shows these two guys, presumably the Bombay Rockers, drive into a parking garage, and get into this rumble of sorts. With a bunch of guys dressed up in huge mascot-style animal suits. Just so you don't get confused, they will freeze frame the animal guys in the middle of their martial arts wire-work butt kicking to let you know their names. Among them are "Mr. Psycho Horse", "Bird Reynolds", and "Rabbit Royale". So, since this is a chart-topper in the making, keep your eyes peeled kids (what a revolting phrase...), you heard it here first!

I had lunch today with a gentleman who does a lot of business with our company, and his wife. He called me a few days ago, which I knew that he would, and said that he was told he should act as my "protector" while I'm in Pakistan, and that if I ever needed anything, he would take care of it for me. Although I had to chuckle at the phrase, I certainly appreciate the offer. And, although he is quite a bit older than me, his wife, by happy coincidence, is a couple of years younger than me, and has said that any time I'd like to go shopping, she'd love to take me. Oh, the trouble I could get into - they have beautiful sandals here, you know. I'm hoping that Pakistani women have small feet and that my big ol' American feet will be hard to shop for.

Okay, that's a total lie.

In any event, they were both very nice and we had a lovely conversation over lunch. We were at Avari Towers, which is a fancy-schmancy hotel in town, and one that is, I'm guessing, frequented by a lot of European guests. I say this because our table overlooked the swimming pool, and I haven't seen that many men in teeny-tiny Speedos since the time I made the unfortunate decision to use the pool at my gym on a Friday night. You don't make that mistake twice, let me tell you.

At lunch, they asked me if I was here alone (lots of people ask that), and I said "yes". They also asked if I was married or engaged (lots of people ask that, too), and I said "no". They then asked if that made me sad, and I laughed. I said that, all things considered, I was quite lucky for my life to look as it does at the moment, and although they seemed a little puzzled, that seemed to satisfy them. But I have to remember that, in a country where women live with their parents until they get married, my situation is quite unusual, to say the least.

I went to the pool today and, though I was the only person there, had a very nice time. My swimming is really coming along, and I have some actual color on my skin, much to my astonishment. I mean, I'm sure that if you put me next to most other people, I would still be "practically blue", as Lois would say, but in light of my theory that I have two colors, white and red, I'm going for something between "corpse" and "burn victim", because I've heard that such a thing exists.

For those of you who do a lot of international traveling (Marcie and Andrew come to mind), I just made the most delightful discovery. "The Daily Show" has a "Global Edition" on CNN. It made for a lovely afternoon as I struggled with the food coma that followed my enormous lunch.

I would love to say that I'm off to do something cultural and intellectually stimulating, but the truth is that there's an episode of "Scrubs" on, and it's one of the ones with Scott Foley, who is totally dreamy, so I'm going to go curl up in front of the TV. I'm not proud of that. But it's still true.

I'll be off, then.