There has been very heavy rain overnight and the temperature has fallen markedly since then, my journal tells me. The day before had been blisteringly hot but this one was rather breezy and much cooler. I was wearing the new blue salwar kameez I'd bought the day before.
I began by walking as far as St. Patrick's Cathedral on what used to be Clarke Street. I sat right at the top of the white, marble steps looking back down towards the main road. My journal says I had many observations to make:
I noticed many destitute people sitting or laying in the gutter and simply begging and commented that nobdy seemed to take any notice of them. I had become used to sights like this in India, especially Mumbai and Delhi.
Spot the woman! My journal says that those new to Islamic countries would find this aspect of street life unusual and I was finding it rather challenging being the only European around too. I noted how the streets were crammed packed full of men and boys noting that, every now and then a woman would appear wearing the full veil in a manner similar to the Afghans. My journal notes that most of the women I saw here were fully veiled.
It goes on to comment about the flooding and garbage on the streets taking into account the Monsoon of course. I commented about the state of the road approaching St. Patrick's Cathedral noting that the frail auto-rickshaws had to pick their way around the potholes and general city centre congestion.
The journal mentions that the streets were full of life and reminded me somewhat of Egypt, which I had been to many times. I said how much Karachi street life contrasted with the sanitised Far East. I made this point because, only 5 days prior to my Pakistan trip, Janet and I had just returned from a holiday in Malaysia!
Sitting on the cathedral steps I had noticed a large number of people around and that there was a convent school right next door. I was looking at two very elegantly-clad women wearing saris, not veiled in any way or accompanied by men. I assumed these ladies were Pakistani Christians with some connection to the cathedral or convent.
Then, at 11.25 am there was a huge flash of lightning. The sky was utterly dark and laden with heavy monsoonal rains. I made a comment about my photos not being that good because of poor lighting conditions.
I has essentially spent the whole morning sheltering from the intense monsoon rain and I got myself to one of the many 'tea houses' where I'd ordered some samosas and dood-chai (milky tea). I went on to write how seeing such badly flooded streets was something I had never witnessed anywhere before since the entire drainage system was unable to cope with the volume of water such that all manner of garbage and filth infected the standing water.
I was wearing sandals without socks for this very reason. I noted that the salwar kameez was such a practical garment since it was easy to life the leg part when stepping through monsoon rain filled potholes.
Whilst in the 'tea shop' I wrote describing the scene outside commenting on the noise and hubub. I looked out to see one of those gorgeously decorated Pakistani Bedford buses parked in the middle of the road. Sellers of fruit sat atop their four-wheeled push carts, some smoking whilst others weighed their wares on ancient weighing scales. Other merchants were shouting out the price of their goods.
A little lad kept trying to mop my table down. Outside I could see flies buzzing round pieces of melon for sale on the fruit carts. Some traders had covered their wares to prevent flies and to keep the torrential rain off. I noticed that the street I was on was called Bismillah Terrace with the sign being in Urdu with English underneath. Writing my journal in the tea house was causing some interest amongst the locals it tells me.
When the rain had first begun that morning I started out by sheltering in an old shed in the grounds of St. Patrick's Cathedral. Two of the labourers were there taking shelter too. One of them spoke a little English so we managed a 'kind of conversation'. My note books says that I next took refuge in a bread shop where the owner was extolling the many virtues of Islam. He told me that he had been on Hajj twice. I enjoyed hearing the details.
That afternoon I took a taxi to the Tooba Masjid in Defense. The dome of the mosque has no supports and there is an impressive echo. At the Qiblah end there is a simple mihrab. About 5,000 worshippers can be accommodated inside this modern mosque.
I then asked the taxi driver to take me to Clifton, the posh area by the sea where many Pakistani elite people life. Right at the top end of Clifton, on the hill is the Ziarat of Abdullah Shah Ghazi At the entrance to the complex and flanking the sides there are stalls selling all manner of Islamic paraphernalia. On offer were the usual red petals for worshippers to place upon the tomb in addition to pictures of Islamic holy sites. My journal tells me that I bought several things there but I don't recall doing so now.
The rains were falling yet again and my attempts to take photos were resulting in condensation problems. I noted that my worst fear was that intense moisture might affect the film inside my camera. The actual tomb was right at the top of a hill and the saint's grave is piled high with green cloth and red petals. Around the tomb of the saint, men were praying silently, hands adopting the posture of dua. When they finish praying my journal noted that the worshippers kiss then touch their eyes and mouths.I think that means that they kiss their hands before touching their eyes and mouths.
Most people put a small donation into the green box provided for that purpose.
At the base of the hill and around the back of the shrine is a grotto which has been tiled. There's a fresh water spring at the end, my journal tells me. The water from the 400 year old well is piped to the entrance of the grotto where people wait to fill up various containers. As is normal with water at such locations it is credited with possessing special healing properties. My taxi driver said, that if you are a believer then the water will taste fresh, but that if you are not then it will taste salty.
It appears that in 2010 there was a deadly attack on this shrine, the blame for which as put on 'suicide bombers'. This is merely part of an ever increasing deterioration between various sects within the country.... more later on!
My jounal say the rain was really teeming down again and that I asked him if he knew anywhere I could buy a Pakistani flag for my classroom display. We ended up by a very impressive 'building of the Raj' bearing the name King George where there were many small stalls very busily selling all kinds of flags and decorations since the day following was to be Eid Milad Un Nabi or the birthday of the Prophet Muhammad (saw). I bought a large flag of Pakistan and a huge Makkah/Madinah poster along with a very colourful har for RS 35.
On the drive back one road was entirely flooded out and traffic from all four directions was attempting to cross it. The infrastructure of Karachi is crumbling all about, my journal notes. I was of the impression that there was a real lack of development bearing in mind that only two weeks earlier I'd been out in Malaysia which is forging rapidly ahead in all departments. I wrote that I would recommend Pakistan to any jaded traveller since there was such a lot to be challenged by there.
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