{"id":323,"date":"2026-03-18T04:04:47","date_gmt":"2026-03-18T04:04:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/?page_id=323"},"modified":"2026-03-18T04:04:47","modified_gmt":"2026-03-18T04:04:47","slug":"chapter-11-pakistan","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/?page_id=323","title":{"rendered":"Chapter 11 : Pakistan"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

\u201cWhat has gender got to do with it?\u201d<\/strong><\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n

               Mr. Rodriguez, or Roddy, which was his preference for being addressed, spent a week getting them ready for the mission. They had several Pashto language tutorials, classes on history, geography and culture and lots of Q&A sessions. They all had their smartphones from which they could call, text and email. If all else failed, they would have a satellite phone at their disposal so that they could stay connected. Roddy would now be traveling with them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    A thin, balding fellow, Phil guessed Roddy must be around 40 years old. He was very serious-minded most of the time, and Ismail got along very well with him. They loved talking about history and the current situation, with interest in the area they were about to visit. Phil had tried to joke with him a few times, but that did not work out too well, and he soon found that Roddy avoided him whenever he could.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   After arriving in New Delhi on a connecting flight from Nancowry, the group boarded the giant Boeing 777 that would fly them to Islamabad, the capital city of Pakistan. From there, they would travel to Peshawar in a vehicle arranged for the group and then on to Amankot in Bajaur, where their hosts lived, in the heart of FATA territory.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  Ismail and Roddy sat together on the two bulkhead seats ahead of the rows of the other positions. With plenty of legroom ideal for the long flight, they settled down and resumed their never-ending conversation about the world. From across the aisle, Zeina tried to join the talk about Roddy\u2019s life in Pakistan, but after a few futile attempts, she gave up since the two were so into their discussion.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  Zeina ended up having a conversation with her neighbor, who was a Pakistani, on her way back home after visiting relatives in India. Zeina would have liked to ask questions about the situation between the two hostile neighbors but thought better of it and talked about girly stuff. Behind them, Phil was ignored by his companion, who was an aged woman who did not understand English, and Phil tried to get the sleep that eluded him. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Phil liked Zeina since she was a perfect contrast to Ismail\u2019s seriousness. Ismail did bore him sometimes, but Zeina was always so full of life. However, as much as they were different, Phil noticed the unique chemistry between Ismail and Zeina. Just like Rebecca and him. It was nothing they did; they were just so comfortable around each other.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

           He\u2019d never been that bothered about relationships; Phil had quite a few girlfriends, but none lasted too long. Seeing Ismail and Zeina together made him want that kind of understanding with someone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

           Thinking of suitable matches brought him around to his parents. They used to have a language of their own and could speak to each other with their eyes; he remembered the strange looks that passed between them, and now, as an adult, he had a pretty good idea what they meant.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He did not think his father had that same special relationship with his stepmother; then, he reprimanded himself for being so possessive. He sighed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            He managed to catch some shuteye and only woke up when he realized the plane was beginning its descent. He looked out at the expanse of hills, and the capital city nestled in its green valley, sparkling in the drizzle that had just fallen. So, here he was at last. He had read so much of it and been so curious about it. His heartbeat increased, just realizing the high expectation he had from this place about finding Rebecca.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

            \u201cA nice airport,\u201d Zeina remarked, looking around. \u201cModern; I didn\u2019t expect this.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 \u201cIt just opened recently, replacing the other one,\u201d said Roddy. \u201cIt\u2019s one of the largest airports in Pakistan.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cWhat is the purpose of your visit?\u201d a uniformed counter official asked Phil with stern suspicion at immigration.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cMy guests,\u201d Roddy answered quickly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cYes, visitors,\u201d confirmed Phil. \u201cWe want to see your beautiful country.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Unimpressed, the man asked, \u201cHow long do you plan to stay?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \u201cA month, perhaps two; we hope to do some mountain climbing…\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    The official didn\u2019t wait for Phil to finish and stamped his passport.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    Ismail was grilled about his Israeli passport when another official joined in interrogating him.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \u201cWhat\u2019s going on?\u201d Phil asked worriedly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \u201cPakistan doesn\u2019t recognize Israel,\u201d Roddy whispered. \u201cEven though both states were established based on ideological declarations, Pakistan remains hostile because of the Palestine issue.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \u201cWow!\u201d Zeina remarked. \u201cThat\u2019s complicated!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    \u201cJust politics, Zeina,\u201d Roddy shrugged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    After a lot of pointless back and forth, they granted Ismail an entry because everything was legit.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Zeina got a better response when the man looked her up and down and said, \u201cWelcome to Pakistan, Miss; have a nice visit!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cHmm…That was easy, probably because our countries have great ties,\u201d Zeina surmised.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cAnd, because you\u2019re a beautiful woman.\u201d Roddy added teasingly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cWhat has gender got to do with it?\u201d Zeina frowned, annoyed at the inference.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cIn this part of the world, everything!\u201d Roddy chuckled. \u201cGet used to it, lady!\u201d  <\/p>\n\n\n\n

  Phil was intrigued to notice that many female passengers wore chadors<\/em> or hijabs<\/em>, though many women, including the counter staff, did not wear any form of purdah<\/em>.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

 They cleared immigration, and as their baggage arrived on the conveyor belt that was full of luggage, Phil noticed that the males were picking up the bags while the women stood on the side. Phil saw Ismail trying to help Zeina as she struggled with her heavy suitcase.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cI can handle it,\u201d she retorted, and Ismail frowned and left her alone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Phil smiled at the paradox of her feminism; she was fiercely independent, but unashamedly relied on her father\u2019s support in times of need.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Luggage checked, amid questions of \u201cAlcohol?\u201d \u201cDrugs?\u201d \u201cWeapons?\u201d they were cleared to leave.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cWhat a palaver!\u201d Zeina exclaimed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cGo with the flow, guys,\u201d Roddy seemed quite comfortable with the process. \u201cThis is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg! We\u2019ll have to deal with much larger and more complex issues, so brace yourselves!\u201d   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   They followed Roddy out of the air-conditioned airport, and the dry, warm air shocked Phil. A trickle of sweat was already forming on his back. After taking a few sniffs of the weird smell in the air, Phil realized it was pollution caused by gasoline and diesel from traffic. He covered his nose and mouth.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cRoddy, do the folks here have any awareness of global warming?\u201d Phil sneered. \u201cOr they just don\u2019t give a damn about it.\u201d   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cTake it easy, Phil,\u201d Roddy cautioned. \u201cBelligerent behavior, inappropriate jokes, criticism, and threats aren\u2019t tolerated here.\u201d   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   There were lots of people outside the airport, arrivals and departures, and folks merely dropping or waiting for passengers. A lot of noise, with horns honking and people shouting. While it was all a bit overwhelming for Phil, he took in the local color and began to feel excited; he was in a strange new country, about to go to work.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   As they waited for their vehicle, Zeina stood with her bags beside her. Phil couldn\u2019t help noticing the looks the attractive young woman was getting from passersby, though she was unaware of it. Unlike him, Zeina and Ismail both looked relaxed in their new surroundings.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Roddy\u2019s right,<\/em> he thought. I must give this place a chance. I feel closer to Rebecca here; I wonder if she knows I\u2019m coming to get her!<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cPhil, you blend in so well with your new hair,\u201d teased Zeina. \u201cAnd I think it suits you better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   His blond hair had been cut short and dyed as black as hers and Ismail\u2019s. He moved a hand over the fine stubble on his head.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cYeah, I don\u2019t even recognize myself in the mirror,\u201d he remarked. It was true; he never failed to be surprised when he caught a glimpse of himself.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cInside, while we were getting our bags, I looked out for you and got worried until I realized you were right behind me,\u201d Ismail grinned<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Phil put a hand around Ismail\u2019s shoulder though he knew it made Ismail uncomfortable as he stiffened up. He had to loosen this guy up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cHello, Rafiq Bhai<\/em>! As-Salaam-Alaiku<\/em>m!\u201d Roddy greeted a tall, well-built man who walked towards them. \u201cRafiq Afridi has very kindly agreed to be our guide; he knows the area like the back of his hand!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “Wa-Alaikum-Salaam<\/em>, Roddy Bhai<\/em>!\u201d the man in his mid-30s returned the greeting jovially, with bear hugs and backslapping by both. The audience could not help but smile at this surprising display from Roddy, who was in no way a demonstrative man.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Rafiq wore a long white shirt over the traditional baggy shalwar. He cut an impressive figure with his handlebar mustache and large turban crowning his shoulder-length, thick, black curly hair. His large, expressive eyes had a friendly twinkle. The roguish dimple on his chin added to his charm; it almost seemed as if he had shaved that part of his face to show off this attractive feature.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Rafiq shook hands firmly with the men and nodded courteously at Zeina, showing no less respect than he gave the others. He was also their driver and ushered them toward his large white Toyota Land Cruiser in the parking lot. Roddy sat up front while the other three got in the back. It was a spacious, air-conditioned vehicle, and the passengers were glad to stretch their legs and sit in comfort.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

    They noticed the automatic rifle lying in plain view on the dashboard, and Zeina had to ask, \u201cIs this necessary?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cOh yes, Bibi<\/em>; never know when I might need it!\u201d was Rafiq\u2019s casual reply, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cOur assignment starts now,\u201d informed Roddy. “We\u2019ve about a couple of hours on the road before we get to Peshawar. We\u2019ll stay there to get an update before we move on for a three-hour drive to reach Amankot in Bajaur, where tribal Chief Naseer Husain lives.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cI\u2019ll get you to Naseer Husain in four hours,\u201d Rafiq announced, and the way he sped out of the airport, left the others in no doubt of his claim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   He handed each of them a colored photocopy of a map of the region, and when they\u2019d had a chance to refresh themselves with the essential details, Rafiq provided explanations in heavily accented, but perfect English. He charmed the visitors with his pleasant demeanor.   <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “We\u2019re going northeast to an area called Bajaur; to Amankot, a village near the town of Khar,\u201d Rafiq explained, and the passengers at the back anxiously scanned their maps for the names of places they had never heard of before, even at their orientation. \u201cBajaur is part of the Federally Administered Tribal Areas, also commonly known as FATA.  The people who live here are Pashtuns, who have governed the area for centuries. I\u2019m a Pashtun, or a Pathan, as we\u2019re also known. I live in a village called Dawezai in the Mohmand Agency, next to Bajaur. I\u2019m the tribal leader of our village and, also, a member of the council chiefs.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cDo you face terrorism in your area?\u201d Ismail asked.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cThere have been instances of aggression by jihadi<\/em> groups,\u201d he shrugged. \u201cOur people deal with criminals severely; there\u2019s zero tolerance for those who disturb the peace of the village.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “This area looks beautiful on the web,” said Phil, and Rafiq was quick to reply, \u201cIn real life too; it\u2019s wonderful, like heaven on earth!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “It\u2019s sad to know that the people of the region have seen so much grief in the last few years,” sighed Zeina.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cYes, too bad. The Pathans are very proud people,\u201d Rafiq explained. \u201cIn 1947, at the conception of Pakistan and India from British India, this area came under the control of Pakistan. We\u2019ve always been fiercely independent, and the tribal chiefs have controlled the area for centuries; they don\u2019t believe in any lines separating them from Afghanistan; people have solid family bonds on both sides of the border.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “After September 2011, things changed, right?” inquired Ismail, who had been looking out of his window, taking in the scenes outside. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   Tractors jostled for space with colorfully decorated buses and carts pulled by horses, donkeys and camels. Bicycles, motorbikes and motorized rickshaws wove through narrow spaces. Cars managed to keep up with the melee as jaywalkers dashed through the dangerous tapestry of traffic without any fear for their lives. Everyone had a horn and a voice and made good use of them. It was insane.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  Rafiq nodded in answer to Ismael\u2019s question as a scowl creased his brow. They were now leaving the bustle of the city to join the highway; he gunned his engine and increased his speed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

   \u201cRafiq, please tell us about your experience. What has changed for you here in the last 15 years?\u201d Zeina asked. She had worn her glasses to protect her from the sun, and with her fashionable scarf, she looked like a model. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

   “So much has changed,\u201d he replied. \u201cLots of Taliban leaders escaped to this region and found a haven in the mountains and caves before they began to move gradually into the residential areas where we live. With them came their fanatical ways with Sharia<\/em> laws, Jihadi<\/em> schools, and terrorism. Because they came here, the war on the Taliban has moved here too, with armies, foreign and Pakistani, trying to root out the criminal elements.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

  \u201cTrue. The Taliban, running from Afghanistan, have found fertile ground here to grow and settle since the borders between the two countries have never been accepted by the Pashtuns of the two countries,” Roddy agreed.     <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

\u201cWhat has gender got to do with it?\u201d                Mr. Rodriguez, or Roddy, which was his preference for being addressed, spent a week getting them ready for the mission. They had several Pashto language tutorials, classes on history, geography and culture and lots of Q&A sessions. They all had their smartphones from which they could … Continue reading Chapter 11 : Pakistan<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-323","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=323"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":324,"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/323\/revisions\/324"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vibhashah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=323"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}