A twisting story

This last Saturday, at about 10:00am, I was waken by a phone call from a friend (Pakistani) who wanted to invite me for lunch at his place. I had previously been able to go on previous calls as I had always found something else to do. However, this time, I decided that it was the right time for me to go there, and live something different. The culture here, and the way people leave is very discreet to the outsiders, and unless you really know someone to go in their so close home, you will not get to know or see what is really happening inside these closed houses.

I decided to go there, and got ready to jump in a cab to head towards his place. This friend of mine (Chokot) lives in a place called Rawilpindi. It is right next to Islamabad, through, its a completely different standard of living there. Islamabad is gathering most of the richest people in Pakistan, and sparkle huge signs of upper class town. When I arrived, he was there in the street waiting for us (me & taxi) to arrive and show us where to precisly go to reach his very hidden place. Through some very narrow street where you could certanly fit at most two donkeys side by side, we found a metal green gate to a main building coridor. He was happy to have me on that special day off. On the week end, in this country and most of the muslim countries I have been to before, the mans like to enjoy relaxing all day and doing nothing but chatting with friends, sleeping and eating. I was here to have a more accurate sample of this saying, and check this out by myself. What is exactly happening in those closed houses on the week ends. First of tho, I was there to enjoy being with this friend, and try spend some great time chilling and tasting the locally made food. His "House" looked more like an old appartement on the ground floor. It was separated from the corridor by a thin metal door, that was not even reaching the selling, leaving some space for looks from people going up the stairs across his main door. Once you passed this door, it was then a rectangle type of entrance hall in his appartement. All around the rectangle shaped hall, there was doors. In the middle, it was the water tank with its top opening in the middle of that room. For security purpose, it was covered with a ciment cap. He lead me to his room on the left end side. He didnt show me the other rooms, or anything else, straight as I walk in his home, we took me there. It was his own room in all these doors. All the other rooms, were just for each other members of his family living there. His brother lived next door, his father was also living in that place, and so did everyone from his family! The womens were also here that day, but I did not get much to see of them, ill come back on this later.

In his room, was a bed, a cupboard, 4 chairs including two made out of plastic bucket. He invited me to seat there and have some rest while he was going to look for a friend to join us. He left me with his only child: "Abdoullah"! Very soon, I was surrounded by all the childrens of the house! There was Saad, Abdoullah, Oussama, Soha (girl), and probably an other 4 childrens around me. They were entertained by my look, and talks. It's not everyday that they have a guest looking like me. White, looking strange and sounding funny! While I was sitting on the bed, and having fun with the kids, I noticed how much the women were hidding from me. They were in the kitchen, right across the rectangle hall. On the Room door of where I was, the Sheet was pulling on and off to hide away the kitchen. Everytime a children was passing by, the sheet was carefully put back so that it hides the vision of the kitchen. The childrens were beautiful, they all had their particular charms but all looked awesome! The ages were from 4 months to 10 years old! The 4 months little daugther of Chokot's brother (my friend) was brought to me by one of the 4 years old kids. It was incredible to see that these kids just get so self managed so quickly without the attention of any adults! Through, soon I was about to learn the drawback of letting kids by their own! First, my friend returned, he was accompained of his good old friend which was a women beauty hairdresser. He came in the room, and sat down opposite of me whom was on the bed. Chokot sat next to me, and we started talking a little. The problem was that I cannot speak much Urdu at all, and he cannot speak much English neither! This meant that we shared a lots of silence together during all this time! I arrived there at about 1200 but only eat something much later at around 1600. All the time we were in his room, we were saying not much, entertain the kids, and hear the womens working very hard in the kitchen.

As we were sitting in the room still, he came up with a terrible story! Something I didnt expect to hear, or even less to see! At some points, he started telling me about his daughter. She was probably a year old when this happened. He pointed out to me the main corridor (the same one I came in the first time) and told me: "It's there Fabrice, Its there that she died!" He wasnt displaying a particular emotion on his head at this time, but certainly wasn't talking about something good that happen. He explain to me that he did not only have this kid I had met (Abdoullah), but that he also had a little girl before that! When he told me about her being dead there, and seeing that he looked confortable about it, I asked him: " What happened, how could it happen?".
Chokot: "She was there, found in the water".
I: "What you mean in the water?"
Chokot: "Yes, let me show you picture".
He looked into his drawers from the cupboard and searched for a photo. He showed me a photo of his daughter, she looked beautiful! Abdoullah, who was with us, screamed out the name of his sister! saying, she is not here, no more.. not here! He wasnt crying or anything, but just shouting out loud her name and saying that she was not here no more.

I was a little worried about asking him more about it, cause I Could not understand this water thing, and why she was dead! So I asked him to tell me more if he could.

Chokot said: "Come with me, I will show you".
I followed him to the main corridor which he was pointing out to previously. We arrived there, and he pointed out to me an humble metal made door. Openened it, and unvealed a Turkish type toilet little room.
Chokot: " She is dead here, right here". He pointed out the bucket that was behind the door!
Just there, there was a blue standard bucket, which you would use for any cleaning purpose in the house. Certainly the Blue bucket was 40Cm high, and just below a water tape emerging from the wall above.
Chokot:" She was washing her hands here, and the soap felt in the bucket...then..".
At this stage I didnt need no more explanation, I was astonished by the aweful accident! Their little daughter of a year old, drawn in a 40cm high bucket filled half way with wather! I stopped him from talking more, and simply and spontanously took him in my arms! I could only feel a fraction of the pain he must have been through, but it was absolutely terrible! This bucket I was seeing there, was the one in which his 1 year old daughter died! I could do nothing, but to give him a big hug, and drop a tear!

He was so calm, and self controlled when talking about it. He did see the horror on my face, and we went back into his room in silent. Soon after this he showed me the hand of one of the other children, he was missing a finger, he had put it in a water pump properller. It showed how much the children are at risks sometimes. They may seem very advance in a lots of things, like walking and sorting themselves out, but it also arent that easy sometimes for them to live so free and close to dangers.

As were cruised along the afternoon relaxing, and doing nothing in the room, the womens of the house where cooking all this time and had at no point been allowed to really spend any presence in the same room than the mans. I have bearly seen them, and I have not had the chance even to actually meet his wife at all. I know that she was one of the women that were cooking there, but didnt know which...

The whole experience of spending a day, at this place was an amazing discovery of what lies behind these close door, which arent very open to strangers. The food was delicious, and despite the terrible story, it was a great afternoon! I enjoyed all of it, bits by bits, and will never forget such a day! If you get the chance, spend a day in a house with these beauiful people!