Pakistan Diaries: Peshawar

Having seen four of the major cities in Pakistan, I think Peshawar is my favorite, both because of the history of the city itself, as well as the attractions around it.

Peshawar has been the cross roads of Asia for all recorded history.  Founded 2,000 years ago by the kings of the ancient Gandharan civilization, Peshawar has been visited by Marco Polo, Alexander the Great, Moghul emperors, and Queen Elizabeth.  When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan, the mujhadeen gathered and trained in Peshawar on their way to Afghanistan via the Khyber Pass.  The money, training, and weapons that the US gave Osama bin Laden to fight the Soviets entered Afghanistan via Peshawar and the Pass.

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Pakistan Diaries: On the Road

I failed to spot any big hair, though.We headed out from Lahore on the newly built highway to Peshawar.  Had it not been for the Urdu on the sign, I would have thought I was in New Jersey when I saw the Islamabad toll plaza.

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Pakistan Diaries: Servants

"How do you say please?" Sarah asked.

"You don’t say please," our hostess said.

With something less than belief in her voice, she then asked, "How do I say ‘thank you’?"

"’Thank you’ is pronounced ‘shoo-kree-ya’" she explained, "but you don’t say ‘thank you’ to a servant."

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Pakistan Diaries: Lahore

Wild parrots in the city of LahoreWe arrived in Lahore later than expected due to visa problem at JFK, but we still managed to get some sightseeing done.  We visited Lahore Fort and the Badshahi Mosque, where we saw a tiny hair supposedly a part of Prophet Muhummud’s beard.  We also visited the Shalimar Gardens, which must have been an amazing sight when fully planted and in bloom.  Now you view it with some imagination.

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Pakistan Diaries: Introduction

Badshai mosqueIt had been twenty-five years since I was last in Pakistan and fifteen years since I had spoken to my father.  In between then and now had been almost a lifetime of events.

My father had divorced, remarried, divorced again, and again remarried.  Surprisingly, I love both of my stepmothers (and my mother) very much, though that experience had been hard on all of us kids.  In late 2003 I reached out to him to reconcile our 15 year silence.  As we continued to talk, at the end of 2004 he offered to show Pakistan to Sarah and I.  I couldn’t imagine declining.

All kids of immigrants who aren’t close to their foreign families feel a hole where others trace their lineage.  I certainly felt like I was missing something.  Now my father was handing me a chance to fill that vacuum.  So in the second week of December, Sarah and I jetted off to Pakistan, my ancestral homeland (or one of them, at least) to seek adventure and answers.

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