I had made a vow more than two years ago to chronicle life in Pakistan with as much detail and colour as I could. The digi-cam went awry on me and, I confess, I got fed-up and left the matter. It is only now that I am leaving that I have been (frenetically) trying to recapture my life in Pakistan. My digi-cam went on the blink again, so much of what you see is stuff I’ve filched off my sister-in-law, who is more conscientious about keeping a desi journal. *S*

I thought I would write about glass bangles for a start - kanch ki choorian. Glassware and ornaments dating back to 800 BC have been found at various archaeological digs in South Asia. However, it was really under the Mughals that the art of glass engraving flourished. Today, bangles are an integral part of this continent’s culture. Slender and round, they are worn in the dozens, usually on the left hand since the right hand is for doing work.

My first experience with South Asian glass bangles was in Bombay (Mumbai) in 1997. I was on a 6-week backpacking trip across India - we travelled from Delhi, through several Rajasthani states, Bombay, Hyderabad, Kerala and Madras.

On our last day in Bombay, my travel companions and I explored the street bazaars. We were tempted by the pretty fabrics, sampled faluda and eventually stopped by an old lady’s stall. She had a lovely, if small, range.

One of my companions, Aiza, was interested in buying a set, but was afraid to try it on. She had had an accident earlier that day at the train station and had bruises all over her wrists and arms which were tender to the touch. The old lady insisted that she try them to get the best fit and showed her how to put the bangles on. She waved away Aiza’s protestations and gently guided the bangles up her hands and wrists. Aiza winced at first in anticipation of the pain, but then smiled in surprise - the lady had so expertly slid them on that she did not hurt her one bit!

In Pakistan, glass bangles are just as popular. I don’t wear them myself but, I admit, I did enjoy dressing up my girls with them on `Eid and hearing the musical tinkle as they shook their wrists. Bear shucked them off and scattered them all over the house once the novelty wore off, but Ms M took her bangles seriously and not a single one broke!

To some these choorian may seem gaudy and I used to think the same, but I have grown to have a better appreciation of them. In a country where the majority of the population struggle to put food on the table, henna and glass bangles may be the only affordable ornaments for weddings and `Eid. Carefully chosen and matched with the right outfit, they can really add a touch of grace and glamour. They come in a bedazzling array of colours - iridescent shades of rainbow, solid jewel tones, pearly pastels - and some are encrusted with gold and silver accents, beads and jhumkas. They are versatile accessories that can be worn with both traditional and modern wear.

I hope you enjoyed this little snippet… I’ll do another on our village trip next in shaa Allah.

My sister-in-law will chronicle more about life in Pakistan, so do visit her blog for more lovely pictures and write-ups.

“There are three sins, whoever dies free of these sins will be forgiven for anything else if Allah wills: associating anything with Allah; practicing magic or witchcraft; and bearing resentment towards his brother.”
(al-Bukhari)

Ms M and I got into a heated argument once after she had broken a house rule. I gave her a lecture and she apologised. That should have been that… but it wasn’t. The incident continued to rankle me, so much so that I gave her the business end of a hissy fit long after.

“Ummi?” she said later.

“Yes?” I said, sounding as cold and aloof as I could possibly manage.

“Hmmm… why are you talking like that? Are you mad at me?”

“Yes,” I replied curtly, dismissing her with a withering tone and look.

“Still?”

Her tone was one of pure incredulity. Bless her pure soul, she could not fathom why anyone would continue to harbour resentment when an issue is said and done.

Indeed, why would anyone? I realised then how petty I was (am…) and how, with me, forgiveness is a long-drawn process with accusations and resentment along the way and conditions and clauses to boot.

With my daughter, however, these issues are uncomplicated. She pardons a wrong quite effortlessly in general, gets over things and moves right on along. I think it is the same with most children unless adults teach them otherwise.

We are told in the Qur’an: “And remind, for indeed, the reminder benefits the believers.” (Surah Adh-Dhaariyaat: 55) I am quite ashamed to say that my reminders are so often coated in exasperation, impatience and a great deal of negativity.

Ms M, however, corrects me with love. I say with love, because even though her reminders are sometimes delivered without tact or sensitivity, I believe they are motivated by her affection for and loyalty to me. They are particular to the time and place - no mention is made of past mistakes how ever many times they continue to recur. They aren’t judgemental or critical either - nothing is implied about the sum whole of me.

I am humbled. May Allah forgive me, ameen.

So I will say what I have said a million times over. Sweetpea, I am profoundly grateful to Allah for you and your sister and for all the love and joy I don’t feel I deserve. I am sorry for not being the best mum I should be.

I am sorry for always apologising and not yet learning the gracious art of forgiving and forgetting.

My smally dolly …

• is talking a lot more… she says, “Alhambali-eelah” (Alhamdulillah), “Alaa-may-koom” (As salaamu `alaykum) and “Jallah `ayran!” (JazakAllah khayran)
• is quite the drama mama … after a bit of tickles and rough and tumble, she flopped down on the bed and declared melodramatically “Aaaahhh! Tiiired!”
• speaks more Urdu and Punjabi than English - she is her Dada’s little girl all right!
• is deliciously lovable - she gives generously squishy, squidgy good morning hugs to her big sister without fail
• is altogether too cuddly for my own good!

Alhamdulillah…

Love you muchly, Bear!

1. The Nine Lives of Montezuma by Michael Morpurgo
This chronicles the life of Montezuma, a ginger tom with a white patch on his throat. He has to fight for his life from the outset - as a newborn, he survives despite attacks from a barn owl, the attempts of a farmer to drown his siblings and abandonment from his neglectful mother. He is rescued by the farmer’s son, Matthew, and becomes a permanent and much-loved fixture in the household.

What follows are the many brushes Monty has with death. First, he gets his head stuck in a tin before hurling up a tree and falling in a pond. Then, he becomes involved in a violent fight with the farm dog, Sam, over Sunday roast left-overs. Next, he is stranded in a snowdrift and a brutal fight with a rival tom. He watches over Matthew who grows up and takes over the farm. But all creatures must face death and Montezuma dies, leaving behind fond memories…

2. Under the Hawthorne Tree by Marita Conlon-McKenna
I discovered this gem quite by accident and almost gave it a miss. I bought it for a mere 50 rupees (SG$1!!). This award-winning novel deals with the the Great Irish Famine that ravaged Ireland in the 1840s. The story centres around the O’Driscolls, the average Irish family who are tenant farmers, dependent on potatoes as their main source of food. Tragedy strikes in the form of “the Blight” - a disease that destroys the potato crops - and what ensues is extensive starvation.

Eily (who is 12), Michael (10) and Peggy (7) O’Driscoll have coped with heartbreak upon heartbreak. Their parents left to find work but have gone missing and their baby sister Bridget is dead and buried under the hawthorne tree. Their village is devastated and farmers are being evicted by the landowners. Surrounded by disaster and the threat of being sent to the workhouse, the children are determined to survive and stay together.

Armed with nothing but courage and love, they embark on a perilous journey across Ireland to find their great-aunts, Nano and Lena, whom they have only heard about in their mother’s stories. The children sleep in the open and forage for food in the wild and in the farms of dead tenants. They are confronted with death at every turn. They see bodies of those who died with no one to mourn or pray over them and they see the living dead - those so traumatised that they are but shells of their former selves.

When the O’Driscoll children arrive in Ballycarbery, they see the ships loaded with food bound for England. It is a painful and bitter pill to swallow - the landlords were making money while their countrymen were falling dead from starvation. And indeed, that is the irony of those horrific years - it was only the potato crop that failed; wheat, oats and meat were in excellent supply but they were shipped out to England. It is said that a million and a half people died during these dark years and another million emigrated.

Read about how Eily, Michael and Peggy push every fibre of their being to stay alive and find a better home. This book is part of a trilogy - the other books in the series are Wildflower Girl and Fields of Home. I haven’t read these, but if you have tell me about them! The book has also been made into a film and study guides are available at O’Brien Press.

Update: We found Wildflower Girl in a little bookshop in Islamabad! It is good… review later in shaa Allah…

3. The Akimbo books by Alexander McCall-Smith
Alexander McCall Smith was born in Zimbabwe was educated there and in Scotland. A Professor of Medical Law at the University of Edinburgh, he is a best-selling author of adults’ books but proves that he is equally adept with younger audiences. I was told about his books by a fellow homeschooler who adores books. We went on a hunt and were rewarded with a box set that was in perfect condition!

The set features Akimbo and the Elephants, Akimbo and the Lions and Akimbo and the Crocodile Man. (There is another book out there Akimbo and the Snakes that we have not read, so if you see it, give me a shout OK?)*

Akimbo is a young, adventurous African boy who lives in a large game reserve where his father is a head ranger. He is passionate about animal conservation and goes through great lengths to protect them. In Akimbo and the Elephants, Akimbo helps to bring down an elephant poaching ring. In Akimbo and the Lions, he helps to raise a lion cub and becomes attached to it. However he knows that Simba belongs in the wild. It is a heartbreaking moment when he releases Simba. (Oh how Ms M cried!) In Akimbo and the Crocodile Man, our resourceful friend is given the chance to accompany John the Crocodile man who is doing research on a batch of crocodiles. During a trip, John is attacked by an angry croc. It is a race against time as Akimbo braves dangerous waters to get help for his friend. Ms M loved the bit where Akimbo hotwires a truck, drives it and barely misses crashing into a tree!

I loved this series just as much as Ms M did. The descriptions are simple and yet incredibly detailed and will transport you to the beautiful African continent. We finished each book in one sitting and liked the charming black and white illustrations by Peter Bailey. I’d recommend this for both boys and girls who are getting into chapter books.

* Update: We have read Akimbo and the Snakes - nice stuff!

OK more in Part 3 - kids are hankering for breakfast!