so after the teaser visit to London, I ended up in Karachi to spend some time with the in-laws and mend a somewhat broken heart before the start of my husband’s semester in October. It was the absolute best thing that could’ve happened to my little family since leaving the big bear hug Houstonians wrapped us around in for a good 6-weeks before departing left us all feeling bewildered, isolated and utterly pessimistic upon arrival into London.
So …as many things are there are to be said about karachi, you can’t say it’s ever dull. With the mandatory bout of food poisoning out of the way, the city has also settled down it’s boisterous welcoming of us by not having any more local politician assassinations or bus burnings though the gas stations are quite timid and shut down at the slightest news of altercations nearby (but wouldn’t your knees buckle too at the thought of an angry mob setting you ablaze, just because…) And then there are the local bouts of typhoid and malaria making the rounds around the city which leave me with goosebumps every time I hear a new story and wonder how I can protect the health of my only child without turning into a zealot?
And yet, I’m having a really great time here….how can i not? There are too many friends and family members that I need to still visit, too many coffee dates that I keep turning down, leisurely long discussions with sister-in-laws that follow us through meals, rooms and even days (how luxuriously beautiful it is to have other women reside in the same home as you), Auzi is absolutely beside himself having found a live-in brother-cousin who has the biggest heart of any 3 year old I’ve seen and the husband is thrilled to be spending real quality time with his parents and brothers….and in the middle of the ridiculous amount of activities we do every single day, I don’t have a single second to miss my family or friends. So i don’t get online, i don’t text anyone, i just wake up and rush through the day, trying to keep up with where it will take me. Which isn’t too far or too exciting but the comfort of it lulls away my anxiety at what’s to come and much more importantly, what i’ve left behind. So how can I not roll my eyes when a well-intentioned (and even more well-loved) friend emails wondering why the hell i’ve ended up in the most dangerous city in the world for six weeks? Karachi is nothing short of contradictions but as with any place anyone loves, isn’t it always about the people? And if we could ferry away all of our loved ones to an island in the sun (green album? anyone? anyone?) would it really matter if the city wasn’t called Houston? Or London? or Karachi?