While on the subject (what could be more interesting than me? To me, anyway.) just to record one particular paranoid fear I had during the night – my arm, where I had been inoculated last week, was aching appallingly, + the fear was pounding thro’ me that maybe I had somehow caught cholera. And I was indulging myself in the luxury of envisaging a romantic scenario, discharging myself from hospital, Val having sent for money for home, putting me on the flight to London, + a tearful + dramatic reunion at Heathrow… until I remembered Gordon the doctor saying that if one had cholera, one would be dead before one got off the plane! Just a little insight onto the workings of my brain, morbid tho’ they sometimes are.
Come morning, I was not in the mood to drag myself from my warm + cosy bed, but we had urgent business to perform. Normally, Val would have left me in bed, + gone off to get those things done, but this being Pakistan, no such independent action is possible. We haven’t found things to be too bad here in general, much friendlier + less hassling than India, but we have had to be extra careful, with Val keeping everything covered up, her eyes down, + her shoulder glued to mine. She also has to keep quiet, + leave chat commercial, social + negotiational, to me. She finds it all very difficult, as it goes heavily against her nature, but it does help to make life bearable. In fact, she has already rec’d one or 2 compliments, if that’s the right words as to what a good Pakistani she makes. But solo expeditions are still out.
The bank was the first stop, then the stn, where, once we had found the DS’s office – Pakistanis, like all Asians, are dreadful at giving directions; they simply point, + expect one to know how far, where to turn, etc. The point takes one about 5 yds before one has to ask again – we obtained our student concession forms without too much difficulty. Having done my duty, I was allowed to return to spend a few hrs in bed, but later in the afternoon, we decided we should take at least a brief look at the city. We haven’t yet taken any photos in Pakistan, not being able to raise any enthusiasm for the task. So we forced ourselves to take a couple – nothing very exciting, however, + before going to the stn on what turned out to be a wild goose chase. We had been told earlier we could buy tickets for the Quetta Express at 4 o’clock. Val had assumed this to be 4 o’clock in the afternoon; it turned out to be 4 o’clock in the morning. Returned to our hotel for tea, then packing etc, which took much longer than I’d thought. To bed early, 7 or so, I wrote until 9.30, didn’t get to sleep till 2 in the morning- the penalty for my daytime siesta, I suppose.
The whole notion of women being kept “safe” is most uncomfortable (and has been raised again, with Trump saying he is going to protect women, whether they like it or not.) The trouble is, it is just easier to go along with such things, as I suppose it is much easier to do in Iran nowadays, rather than make any sort of fuss, at risk – there in any case, and in a worse way in Afghanistan – and risk one’s freedom, sanity, life indeed We had assumed that such things were confined to the Muslim world, but actually what is happening in the US right now does make one fear. The direction of travel throughout my life has been towards greater emancipation, but suddenly…
“While on the subject (what could be more interesting than me? To me, anyway.)” I’ve heard it said that the world is like one giant Shakespearean play, with everyone walking around, thinking they’re the main character. Of course there’s nothing more interesting than oneself. We can’t escape our ego!