Peshawar, Pashtunistan
Thursday, March 23, 2006
My first full day in Peshawar and I can say I am a little culture shocked. No one thing in particular is getting to me, just the whole experience is a little overwhelming. It is my own fault, I decided to immediately plunge into the old city without a second thought to acclimatizing myself to the real Pakistan (as opposed to the relatively sedate Islamabad). I've titled this post Peshawar, Pashtunistan because Peshawar is the first major city in the Pastun region of Pakistan. The Pashtuns are the major ethnic group in the region and their lands straddle the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan. In the past Peshawar was an Afghan city. The whole region where the Pashtuns live is known as Pashtunistan.
It was about a half hour walk to the old city from my hotel. I always like to walk in a new city whenever I can; you really experience the city that way. Hopping in a cab at the front of your hotel and being whisked to some tourist friendly site insulates you from the real experience of wherever you are. For example in a cab I would miss seeing the curbside food sellers. All over Peshawar are open-air restaurants that are little more than a cook stove and a few low stools arrayed on the sidewalk. This is where the poorest people eat. My Western stomach couldn't handle eating at these places, but I was tempted a few times by the appetizing smells wafting up as I walked by.
The chaikhana (tea shop) picture here is actually a more formal business than many I saw. Many chaikhanas are like the restaurants, little more than a guy on the street hunkered over a smoking samovar. Tea is to Peshawar what coffee is to Seattle, the universal beverage that can be found everywhere. Tea is usually delivered here and it is a common site to see boys dashing through the streets carrying trays loaded down with cups and steaming teapots.
In many countries I often feel uncomfortable, rude even, taking pictures of people going about their daily lives. Not in Peshawar, here all the men love having there photos taken. The group of school kids on the bus kept yelling at me until I took their photo. I have been able to take some really great photos in Peshawar because the people were so comfortable with me taking photos. That said you will not see any photos of women. That is strictly forbidden. As a fellow tourist at my hotel told me "After the satisfaction of getting a photo of some burqua clad woman here, the next thing you are going to feel is her husband's knife sliding between your ribs."
After a couple hours walking around I needed a break. Green's Hotel may have been more than I wanted to spend but the hotel's atrium was a nice refuge from the intensity of the city outside.
At my hotel I met Sara and Ali. Sara is a nurse from Canada and Ali is a Pakistani man from the Hunza region (in the Himalayas); he is a university lecturer during the school year and trekking guide during the summer. Sara and Ali met last summer when she was on a trek that passed through Hunza. They invited me to join them for a walk through the old city and dinner at popular BBQ restaurant.
I was very glad to have their company. I doubt I would have felt comfortable walking around Peshawar's old city at night by myself. Being Pakistani Ali of course spoke the national language Urdu, so was a bridge to the culture. The old city at night is everything you would hope for; a teeming and vibrant city straight out of Kipling.
The restaurant we ate at was known as the Sheesh Mahal. Ali said this place is famous in Pakistan and when Pakistani tourists visit Peshawar the Sheesh Mahal is top of their list. Apparently smoking hashish is popular here and the glazed expressions on many of the patrons of the Sheesh Mahal made it clear that many had smoked before dinner.
It is not common to see clean-shaven men in Peshawar. In the bigger cities and among the westernized young men you see the occasional clean shave. They have a saying in Pakistan, "No mustache, no man." Sara jokingly refers to Pakistan as "Mustache-istan".
My first full day in Peshawar and I can say I am a little culture shocked. No one thing in particular is getting to me, just the whole experience is a little overwhelming. It is my own fault, I decided to immediately plunge into the old city without a second thought to acclimatizing myself to the real Pakistan (as opposed to the relatively sedate Islamabad). I've titled this post Peshawar, Pashtunistan because Peshawar is the first major city in the Pastun region of Pakistan. The Pashtuns are the major ethnic group in the region and their lands straddle the border of Afghanistan and Pakistan. In the past Peshawar was an Afghan city. The whole region where the Pashtuns live is known as Pashtunistan.
It was about a half hour walk to the old city from my hotel. I always like to walk in a new city whenever I can; you really experience the city that way. Hopping in a cab at the front of your hotel and being whisked to some tourist friendly site insulates you from the real experience of wherever you are. For example in a cab I would miss seeing the curbside food sellers. All over Peshawar are open-air restaurants that are little more than a cook stove and a few low stools arrayed on the sidewalk. This is where the poorest people eat. My Western stomach couldn't handle eating at these places, but I was tempted a few times by the appetizing smells wafting up as I walked by.
The chaikhana (tea shop) picture here is actually a more formal business than many I saw. Many chaikhanas are like the restaurants, little more than a guy on the street hunkered over a smoking samovar. Tea is to Peshawar what coffee is to Seattle, the universal beverage that can be found everywhere. Tea is usually delivered here and it is a common site to see boys dashing through the streets carrying trays loaded down with cups and steaming teapots.
In many countries I often feel uncomfortable, rude even, taking pictures of people going about their daily lives. Not in Peshawar, here all the men love having there photos taken. The group of school kids on the bus kept yelling at me until I took their photo. I have been able to take some really great photos in Peshawar because the people were so comfortable with me taking photos. That said you will not see any photos of women. That is strictly forbidden. As a fellow tourist at my hotel told me "After the satisfaction of getting a photo of some burqua clad woman here, the next thing you are going to feel is her husband's knife sliding between your ribs."
After a couple hours walking around I needed a break. Green's Hotel may have been more than I wanted to spend but the hotel's atrium was a nice refuge from the intensity of the city outside.At my hotel I met Sara and Ali. Sara is a nurse from Canada and Ali is a Pakistani man from the Hunza region (in the Himalayas); he is a university lecturer during the school year and trekking guide during the summer. Sara and Ali met last summer when she was on a trek that passed through Hunza. They invited me to join them for a walk through the old city and dinner at popular BBQ restaurant.
I was very glad to have their company. I doubt I would have felt comfortable walking around Peshawar's old city at night by myself. Being Pakistani Ali of course spoke the national language Urdu, so was a bridge to the culture. The old city at night is everything you would hope for; a teeming and vibrant city straight out of Kipling.
The restaurant we ate at was known as the Sheesh Mahal. Ali said this place is famous in Pakistan and when Pakistani tourists visit Peshawar the Sheesh Mahal is top of their list. Apparently smoking hashish is popular here and the glazed expressions on many of the patrons of the Sheesh Mahal made it clear that many had smoked before dinner.
It is not common to see clean-shaven men in Peshawar. In the bigger cities and among the westernized young men you see the occasional clean shave. They have a saying in Pakistan, "No mustache, no man." Sara jokingly refers to Pakistan as "Mustache-istan".
posted by TravelWriterWannaBe at 10:07 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home