Judy, Beau and Zeenat in front of the stunning and space age looking Faisal Mosque in Islamabad.Photo update: I know these posts have been few and far between, and you're mostly dying to check out the photos more than my pointless ramblings, but now you're in luck Pat, Beau and Judy fans... all of the photos taken thus far are now available to see at my Fotki.com public photo gallery at http://public.fotki.com/barentg/.
I didn't have time to add descriptions or cull the poor images, but you'll have plenty of good ones to keep you busy. Please keep checking back there for further updates as Judy and I are both on the road for several more weeks, though soon to be parted... enjoy!
Itbar, Pat, Judy, Sumaira, Aneela, Aziz and Beau share one final snap in front of the Pearl Continental hotel in Lahore.
A brief article on the workshops in the Jan. 26th edition of the Lahore English newspaper. Others reported seeing Judy on the evening news as well. Go Team SATTP!Two roads diverged in a yellow wood... thus begins Robert Frost's famous poem about taking the road less traveled by making all the difference in life... i discussed this poem with Syed Inayat Ali, one of the 'Fallen Angels,' the male Pakistani teachers originally selected to join us in Washington last summer, but for one frustraingly absurd reason or another had their visas delayed or denied by the state dept. and could not go. Fortunately, these kind and bright men were able to join us in Lahore for the Winter Workshops last week, and we were happy at least to get acquainted with them in Lahore. Inayat Ali is very smart and philosophical young man, a huge fan of TS Elliot among others, and we discussed this Frost poem and how neither of us could remember exactly how it began as we walked with SATTP fellow and good friend Itbar Khan and another 'Fallen Angel' from Peshawar, Sher Daraz Khan back to my hotel, the luxurious Pearl Continental, located across the famous Mall Road from the Government Administrative Staff College where our participants stayed and where our workshops were held. These kind Pakhtun gentlemen from the restive Northwest Frontier Province (home of Osama most likely, home of the mostly lawless Federally Administered Tribal Areas, extreme distrust of the federal government, blood fueds, very conservative social and religious traditions, and unparalleled natural beauty and renowned hospitality... sounds like Montana...) escorted me back to my hotel Friday night, and we enjoyed a night cap of glasses of fine bottled water in my room along with several good laughs and stories. One Pashtu story they shared said that Pashtuns are so hospitable that they will walk their guests nearly all the way back to their house to make sure they arrive home safe. But, the story goes, the host, upon guiding the guest back to his house expresses his fear of traveling back home alone, so the guest escorts the host back to his house. Once back to the hosts house, the guest expresses fear of traveling back to his house, and this will continue ad nauseum until the sun comes up... that's how hospitable Pashtuns, or Pathans, can be. I offered to walk my departing friends back to their staff college dorms, but they laughed and declined the offer for fear of staying up all night long living out the joke.
Anyway, I went to sleep that night, tortured by the fact that I had to leave this fascinating country so soon, without ever really seeing it except from the window of our maximum security 5 star hotel, or from the plush grounds of the Staff College or from the passenger seat of the chauffered SUV we were forced to ride around in because it was 'too risky' to have us ride with the rest of our teachers on the chartered bus. The next morning, after devouring my first real hearty breakfast during a meeting with Judy, Pat and South Asia RELO Richard Boyum, I returned to my room, took a long hot shower in my marble tiled five star bathroom with footbath/bidet, and then got on the phone with Pakistan International Airlines and posponed my return flight to Delhi scheduled for that afternoon and reserved a seat on the flight with Judy to Islamabad. Road less taken here I come!!!
AFter a few sad goodbyes, and a few hopeful "i'll see you soon's" at the Staff College, I ventured back across the uncharacteristically calm Mall Road (site of sunday's Lahore Marathon, controversial for their decision to segregate the sexes during the race, and for the threat of extremist hooligans declaring their intent to beatup women who dare disgrace themselves by running in the race), which could take up to five minutes to cross due to never ending volumes of chaotic lahore traffic, and returned to the hotel, where Judy had just returned from a last minuted carpet shopping adventure and Pat was pulling her hair out wondering if she would ever make her 2.30 flight. With a few of our Pakistani friends remaining behind to see us off, we took the photo you see above.
Safely at the airport twenty minutes later, we bid a frantic Pat goodbye, I buy a thirty dollar ticket to islamabad at the ticket counter, share a nice chat and tea service with another Fallen Angel, Nisar Ahmed, who was on our flight to Islamabad, and who never fails to mention Charlton Heston and the Ten Commandments movie and the wondrous beauty of costar Judith Anderson. And yes, he mentioned the Ten Commandments again at the airport, though Judy and I pretended not to know what he was talking about. We did listen intently to his method of comparing the works of western poets like Frost and Elliot with the ideas expressed in the Holy Kuran to draw the interest of his english students at his school in the Swat region. He says it's very successful and we look forward to hearing more details about which passages and poets he uses, marvelous idea...
after a brief puddle jump on an old Fokker prop plane we land in islamabad and take in the blessedly cleaner air. We are soon whisked away to the gorgeous five star maximum security Serena Hotel in Islamabad, but not before forcing our car through throngs of families and friends swarming the airport driveway to welcome their begarlanded loved ones returning from their Hajj in Mecca, quite a sight indeed. It seemed as if we'd never see the light of day so many people were miiling about and blocking the way. Though the mood was festive, it was definitely not a place to roll down my window and start yelling, "Long LIve George Bush!" Instant stonings would have befallen us... anyhoo, back at the Serena, owned by the benevolent and tasteful Pamiri philanthopist and bazillionaire Aga Khan, Judy soon discovered her reservations were not in their system and they claimed the hotel was overbooked until FEb second. Well, some artful cajoling from our USEFP savior Shelale Abbassi set them straight and they suddenly 'found' an open 'Executive Suite'... not bad, not bad... two rooms, beautifully appointed, one a sitting room with satellite tv, free internet hookup for the laptop, free mini bar, and a huge tray of complimenary pistacios, cashews and almonds... damn, we've really been roughing it out here! after a delicious buffet meal eaten under the influence of live tabla and sitar music in the restaurant downstairs, Zeenat Tariq, one of our teachers, and her lovely family picked me up and drove me to there lovely house in the posh F Sector of Islamabad. They welcomed me into their home as a family member and i somehow found room for a second late night dinner of minced mutton and potatos and delicious and tender chapathis.. mmmm.. after a nice chat and several power yawms we all retired, and i fell into my first good, deep sleep in a long time... on the road less taken, and despite the latest state dept. travel warning asking Americans to 'defer travel to Pakistan due to terrorist activity', i feel this path chosen is going to make all the difference...
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