Just the other evening, the Dad Man, Bear and I were waiting in the car for Mars outside the Arabic Language Institute. While we were chatting, we heard a clatter outside and when we looked out the window, we realised it was the clip-clop of donkey’s hooves. Four donkeys and their riders were moving briskly on the road while cars were zooming along at rush hour.

I didn’t manage to get a photo because the camera decided to act up right at that moment. I recall another Kodak moment I’d missed – some months ago, we saw a team of mules moving placidly single file on a busy road. A teenaged boy sat on the last mule. He didn’t have to guide or steer the mule as it seemed to just go along with the lead one. He had his mind and hands busy with other things – text-messaging on his cell phone! :)

That, I suppose, sums up one of the nicest things about Pakistan – that the old manages to endure alongside the new.

You will see traditional craftsman plying their trade here. Last year, when we went bookhunting, we saw a man toting a wooden caddy at a busy market. I thought that he was a fix-it man with a toolbox, but when we saw him later, we realised that he shone shoes. I’m pretty sure that if I were a man, he would have asked me for my dingy boots to clean :P

We also saw the man above with a round stone on his bike. I wondered about the curious contraption and discovered he was a mobile knife sharpener! I believe the rear wheel of his bicycle whirls his grindstone. A dying trade no doubt in this era of disposables, more is the pity.

You will also find skilled workers like the embroiderers who do fancy thread and bead work on clothes. They still use traditional methods rather than use computerised sewing machines, so designs are detailed and unique. You can get simple designs to jazz up your casual wear or more intricate ones for formal outfits. Some do the embellishments on sewing machines after drawing out the patterns – now, these are free-motion embroidery machines so you can imagine the amount of control and work required. Others hand stitch their designs – the fabrics are stretched over a wooden rack and the embroiderer sits on the floor painstakingly working on each stitch and bead.

A tailor with a family run business showed us samples of their company’s work. This is a piece they produced for a bride’s wedding dress. The photo doesn’t do the work justice – we had only a crummy cell phone to take the pic with!

One of the tailor’s cousins who does all the beadwork and embroidery. Most of the tailors and embroiderers are men. I’ve met a few women who are accomplished embroiderers – they only stitch for pleasure. Commercial stitching and tailoring seems to be a strictly male domain.

I have some recent photos I’ll post next in shaa Allah of a new favourite haunt of my children – Karachi Company – and some of the local snacks we like. Watch this space!

I promised my friend Asrina from Singapore pictures of life in Pakistan. They are LONG overdue to say the least. I thought I would look into my stash of photos and revive “The Chai Files” category of this blog :)

Pakistan is very different from where I come from and the places I have been. In Singapore, I think the favourite national pastimes are eating and shopping. There are numerous hawker centres, food courts and restaurants there and a major shopping mall in every large neighbourhood. You get the same thing in Pakistan…

Well almost :P

There are lots of eateries and shopping areas, but they lack the cultivated veneer and polish of Singapore’s. If you want a brutally honest opinion, they look a right mess. LOL! Oh, there are many upmarket restaurants and stores, but they are little islands in a sea of litter and poorly maintained buildings. Still, what these places lack in appearance, they more than make up for it in charm :)

My kids love going out and are always thrilled to find bargains and curiosities. During `Eid season, we typically go to places like Karachi Company (more on this later) at G9 and the khussa shop at F10. Here are some scenes from last year:

We saw a row of women offering mehndi/henna services. They sat on the ground with makeshift tables made out of boxes whereupon they placed their supply of henna and stamps. This lady has just stamped the girl’s hand with a design. Like the other henna ladies, she was poor and had a little baby that she was rocking to sleep under her shawl.

Just ahead of the henna stalls were the choori stalls – I had written about glass bangles before in an earlier post. You can purchase them in various stores at any time of the year, but I think people have so much more fun buying them during `Eid when there are so many more stalls to choose from.

Here are Mars and her sister (OK, Bear’s a little cut off :P) looking at the bangles. Just ahead is a stall selling children’s clothing – at Karachi Company, the clothes are much cheaper than elsewhere. You just have to have the stamina to fight the crowds and the stomach to tolerate the litter!

Another view of the bangles… they come in all sizes and colours.

I have a headache getting shoes for the kids come `Eid if I am in Singapore – Mars has trouble fitting into kids’ shoes, but is not quite ready for adult sizes (she is getting there though ma shaa Allah!) while Bear seems to have a hard time choosing (I tell her she will be the Imelda Marcos from Islamabad if she isn’t careful). In Pakistan though, I have no such issues. We just head to the khussa store at F10 – the shoes are fancy enough for the ethnic clothes here and so much more affordable than Mary Janes and what not from Singapore! (The kids’ shoes cost between S$5-$10! Talk about sweet!)

OK, these are a little too ethnic for my taste :P I threaten my kids that I’ll buy these for them if they don’t make up their minds quickly.

Here are the shoes that Bear really likes – they are open at the back so they are easy for kids to wear. Matched with the right outfit, they look nice and swanky :) The soles are wooden so you’d have to get rubber ones fixed onto them to prevent slipping. Mars likes the open-toed sandals made of leather, which look nice with both traditional and modern wear, but I don’t have a pic of them.

More pics to come… stay tuned :)

Two weeks ago, I blogged about my favourite book haunts. I thought I would give special mention to one of them today – Alvi Book Bank.

When we first moved to Pakistan back in 2004, Mars and I had to make a few adjustments in our lives. In Singapore, we were used to going on field trips and bargain shopping sprees, visiting with friends for play dates and taking off for a meal out on a whim if we so desired. In Pakistan though, the days seemed to yawn ahead of us. There was little to do, nowhere to go and no friends to visit.

Then we discovered Alvi Book Bank and the little unassuming second-hand store made our lives more than bearable. I was a newish mum and homeschooler then trying to build a library for little Mars, who was then an only child. I had had to leave most of our books in Singapore during the move (oh! how that hurt!) so Alvi Book Bank was truly a godsend. Mr Fareed Ahmed Alvi knew his business and clearly loved books with a passion for his store was always crammed with some of the best titles for children that the literary world had to offer. My daughter and I would spend hours in there, painstakingly rifling through pile after pile of books, giggling smugly everytime we found a good book. When we weren’t at the store, we would wonder if Mr Alvi had any new stock and worried that others would get to them before we could.

When we moved back to Singapore in 2006, we missed Mr Alvi’s store. None of the second-hand bookstores in Singapore could compare in terms of price, range and charm. (We actually missed Pakistan’s dust and mess!) We continued to visit Alvi’s Book Bank every time we visited our family in Islamabad. The staff got to know us. We were such regulars that they would let us have the run of the place and even let us have the store’s only torchlight when there were power outages – they knew that not even a blackout could drive us away :)

Mr Alvi wasn’t always at his store but he too began to recognise us as faithful customers, this time with Bear in tow. Still, he maintained his reserve and barely cracked a smile, his expression always aloof. My husband joked that he was a hard businessman, never giving discounts even to long-time customers. We had no issues with that however – his books were well-chosen and equally well-priced.

Then one day, we visited the store again and found it vacated. The staff at the neighbouring stores saw us looking perplexed and told us that he had moved to a smaller place above. We trudged up the stairs and wondered how he could possibly fit all his books into such a tiny room. It turned out, he couldn’t and had had to move most of them to a warehouse. His landlord had raised the rent and he couldn’t afford it. The room was temporary till he could find new premises, he said. He looked worried but had not lost his dignified carriage and demeanor. He looked a little disappointed then, but definitely not beaten. There was something about the distinguished gentleman that assured us that he would bounce back from the setback.

In his quest for more a more affordable shop, he was to move a few more times. My family and I began to have a cat-and-mouse relationship with Mr Alvi and his books.

When we finally returned to settle in Islamabad once again in 2008, Mr Alvi had moved yet again. The tiny room he had occupied was vacant and we were left wondering where he had gone this time. We asked the other store owners and drove to the major shopping areas but we had no luck. Then one day, a friend told me about a large bookstore near a pharmacy at Blue Area, a business district. We went immediately (I know, it sounds obsessive) and were overwhelmed by the sheer volume of books.

As we browsed, my husband ran up to me excitedly. “It’s Alvi!” he whispered fiercely. I was too caught up by the books to pay attention so he grabbed by arm and pointed to a gentleman in a cream hat. “It’s HIM! This is HIS STORE!” He went to talk to Mr Alvi and introduced himself. From a distance, I could see his cool veneer cracking and he seemed pleased that he had such a faithful following in my kids who looked so obviously delighted to see him.

Mr Alvi moved another two times and both times we tracked him down. His last location was at a new housing area at a sector called E/11-3, quite a distance from our home. The store was a little small and his books were stacked so dangerously high that I often wondered if he would have to call for a rescue team to extricate us if we upset the piles by accident.

By then, Mr Alvi no longer kept my kids at arm’s length and would engage in friendly chats with them. He would recommend titles to them and ask his staff to climb the mountainous piles and throw them down to my kids whom he ordered to stand at a safe distance. When the summer days were hot, he would offer the kids cold drinks and turn on the fan for them. He was well-acquainted with their preferences and saved them some wonderful gems – collections of English books and Science magazines in mint condition. He even gave us discounts without us ever hinting for them. We took this as a sign that we had officially broken the ice with Mr Alvi :)

We saw Mr Alvi a few weeks ago at another bookstore. We had not visited his shop in a while so my elder daughter greeted him. We made a promise to ourselves to visit his store once again but our plans were always on the backburner as the kids were busy with studies and classes.

My heart feels heavy as I write this. I truly wish we had managed to go. I don’t know what difference it would have made, but I wish we had.

On Wednesday, 28 August 2010, Mr Fareed Ahmed Alvi was one of 152 people who perished when Airblue’s flight ED 202 from Karachi crashed in Margalla Hills. He had been flying home after visiting his elder brother Professor Tauheed Ahmed Alvi, of DJ Science College in Karachi. I am told that he was travelling with two of children and is survived by his wife and a daughter. Inna lilla wa inna ilayhi raji`oon. Surely we belong to Allah and to Him shall we return.

May Allah forgive him and give him the very best in the hereafter … ameen.

May He forgive all who perished in the flight and grant them paradise … ameen.

May He give strength and fortitude to all the bereaved families in this time of adversity … ameen.

O Allah! Let not any of our sins go unforgiven, nor any of our worries undispelled, nor any of our needs and difficulties unfulfilled, let the end of our deeds be the best of all … ameen.

I don’t usually enjoy shopping in crowded places but there is a market here in Islamabad that has a certain charm. It is open on Fridays, Sundays and Tuesdays and sells fruit, vegetables, meat, cooked food, baskets and household items. It is called Jumma (Friday) Bazaar or Itwar (Sunday) Bazaar. (I don’t know what it is called on Tuesdays :P)

It is quite an interesting place, for sure, if you know your way around. My mother-in-law’s helper, Anees, is a resourceful little thing who has managed to land numerous bargains like beautiful serving bowls and glasses, branded winter wear and miniature toys for my girls at excitingly low prices :)

I’m rubbish at photography but here are some shots of a market day in Islamabad…

The bazaar is a good place to buy groceries in bulk as it is cheaper than the neighbourhood markets. You don’t get to choose your vegetables and fruits usually, unless you’ve established a good relationship with the grocers though, so you may end up with food that is less than fresh.

Most of the serrano chillies sold in Pakistan are green. Pakistanis do not use fresh/blended red chillies generally (no sambal tumis for me!) and use chilli powder instead .

I think these radishes look pretty and dress up salads very nicely even though I don’t like the taste :)

I like chalkboards and slates like these which are used all over the bazaar. It gives such a vintage feel. I just wish I had done a better job on the photo – so much noise evident!!!

Traditional balance scales… how quaint!

Back at home with strawberries to munch on.