Back to Detroit, Back to Myself

Six years have passed since I last posted in Pakistan.  Or to be precise since I last posted then removed the posts.  I remember having terrifying thoughts that my posts would be found by one of the rogue terrorist groups that I read about in the newspapers every morning over breakfast.  I imagined that they would come find me in my guesthouse and find some creative way to do what terrorists do-cause terror.  In hindsight it seems laughable but the reality of terror is unpredictable.  

I recall leaving the country with both relief and a deep yearning to return as quickly as possible. Something captured my heart about the people of Pakistan-I felt the safest I had ever felt while being in a notoriously dangerous country.  Poetically, six years has passed but not much has changed.  I live in Detroit (the city, not the suburbs!), a notoriously dangerous city, and am surrounded by a community of very safe people in my apartment building.

In between Pakistan and Detroit, I lived life.  

It seems fitting to end this journey back where I started, but somewhere completely new.  And that somewhere is me.  

Home Setup Checklist

Checklist for Setting up Home

Kitchen

Large Dish soap

Large dishwasher detergent

Cleaning gloves

Sink disposal cleaners

Several sponges

Long-wand dish scrubber

Multi-pack paper towels

Multi-pack sponges

Mop

Broom and dust pan

Dusters

Kitchen garbage bags

Saran wrap

Alum foil

Parchment paper

Small plastic bags

Large plastic bags

Bottled water

Several kitchen towels

Fridge clip magnets

Chalkboard (?)

Kitchen equipment checklist

Whisk

Cutting boards

Wine glasses

Measuring spoons

Measuring cups

Liquid measuring cup

Several sharp knives

Tongs

Baster

Grater

Regular can opener

Wooden spoons

General kitchen supplies

Mustard

Mayo

Eggs

Olives

Capers

Minced garlic

Hot sauce

Siriacha

Ketchup

Salad dressing

Spice packs

Baking soda

Coffee

Coffee filters

Paper dinner napkins

tupperware

Bathroom(s)

Large toilet paper

Plunger

Bowl cleaner wand

Bowl cleaner detergent

Shower scrub brush

Shower scrub liquid or detergent

Windex cleaner tissues

Multipurpose tissue cleaners

Small bathroom garbage bags

Box(es) of Kleenex tissue

Bedroom(s)

Glass water bottle

Coasters

Office Area

Cork board/dry erase board

Calendar desk pad

Small calendar for fridge

Living Room

Candles

Air freshener (from bath & body works)

Laundry

Large Laundry detergent

Large fabric softener

Dryer sheets

Delicate wash cleaner

Drying rack

Bleach

The Almost Marriage

The Almost Marriage

“Broken engagement”.  I hated that term.  “There is nothing ‘broken’ about me,” I would scowl to myself as I reflected upon the realization that, in fact, after ending my engagement I felt more whole.  

The engagement had been tumultuous to say the least.  Mostly, I felt confused.  Isn’t this what I wanted?  Hadn’t I already committed myself to the relationship by moving cross-country for him?  I recall throwing my engagement ring across the room screaming that I didn’t want to be someone’s wife, as if by being married I would forever be playing second fiddle. Gone were the cozy feelings of a home that I desperately tried to create.  

Ending my engagement felt like a strange “in between a relationship breakup and a divorce.  There was no legal paperwork, no lawyers, no alimony.  But there was an entangled life together and a half-planned wedding. 

The “not wedding”?  Ex-fiance sounded harsh.  The almost husband. The almost mother-, father-, brother-, and sister-in-law.  The almost life.  My almost divorce.  

Personal Security

Personal security is obviously an issue in Pakistan.  I've been challenging myself to not let these issues define and color my experience too much while I'm in Pakistan because the reality is a constant undercurrent.  These concerns are not just evident for visitors.  Pakistanis will shake their heads and ask if I think things will get better.  One can only hope.

I've been keeping a low profile.  Most of the time I do not cover my head (not all Pakistanti women do) but always a scarf with me.  However, I do cover my head during car rides.

Low profile 

It feels very different and sometimes unsettling to be in a place where my mobility is so limited.  I'm used to exploring new places by foot, wandering the side streets and adventuring to tucked away cafes.  I haven't walked down any street.  Not one.  Door-to-door service for every place you go seems somewhat of a celebrity life.  As does constantly arranging your driver to pick you up here at this time and take you there.  Until you realize that you're somewhat under house arrest at each place you go.

View of my street from the car

The concept of having a private driver is certainly not unique to Pakistan as this would also be a preferable  and affordable arrangement in other more peaceful middle-income countries.  However, feeling wary of a 10-minute walk to the market by myself during daylight hours is palpably different.

Driver.

The extra psychological effort required to keep any security concern in realistic check is evident. I've been advised not to go to the brand-new shiny shopping mall with stores, a cinema, and a TGIFridays.  A landmark screaming of of the West.  Each car that pulls up to the McDonalds must pass through a security check-point.  All major roads have occasional policed checkpoints where passing cars slow down to swerve through the concrete roadblocks.

We never go out to a restaurant for lunch at the office, always ordering take-out to eat at the office.    The lovely patio garden, balcony with a view, and chirping birds of my guesthouse seem to peacefully co-exisit with the barbed wire wall around the building and two beret-wearing rifle-slinging security guards guarding the thick metal gate of the driveway.    

Security guards and gated entryway

When I was discussing weekend plans with my colleague, I suggested the major city sites that I wanted to see.  But wait.  A popular city landmark.  On Saturday afternoon.  Fuggedaboutit.  These places will be crowded on the weekends, he reminded me, and suggested we go during the week instead.  So we made a plan to visit all the popular places during the weekdays after work when they are less crowded and by proxy, safer.

Reality bites.  But comfort always awaits at the end of each day.  I retreat to my room, nestle under the blankets, cuddle up with my iPhone and fall asleep.

Plaque outside my room.  Not all the rooms have it.  Not sure why but I'm grateful.