Javed and I have known each other for about 3 years and we talked online everyday. We both knew we loved each other early on and were tired of waiting after 3 long years. I was still living with my family and going to college after having moved back from Phoenix so I couldn't sponsor him to come here, I had to go to him. 

   I kept things pretty quiet because I didn't want to have to listen to other people's negativity. I'm sure it would have been out of concern for my well-being but I didn't want to hear it. My mind was made up. So I told my mother only a few months before I left and a couple friends. My father didn't know until the week before I left, I think, and even then he thought I was just going to London. My mother and I didn't want to stress him out too much and if he knew my destination was Pakistan he'd probably have keeled over.

   It's true that Pakistan isn't exactly safe, especially for Americans. But my husband had traditional clothing made for me in advance along with shawls and headscarves. Beautiful clothing! He's the most thoughtful man I've ever known and he picked out perfect colors for me. In the larger, more modern cities like Islamabad or Karachi you may see women wearing jeans and Western style clothing, but not in Peshawar. There are many Afghan refugees there as well and I did see some women covered head to toe in long blue burkhas. Javed, his friends and family made sure my stay in Peshawar was as comfortable and safe as possible.

   It felt strange and was a bit uncomfortable to be stared at all the time. This actually started in the airports. I was supposed to have had a no-fuss itinerary from Detroit-Chicago-London-Islamabad. In my dreams! My flight from Detroit to Chicago was delayed around 2 hours, causing me to miss my connecting flight to London. A very kind man, Matthew York, went above and beyond what most would have done I think. He stayed after work for so long to help get me a place to stay for the night and booked onto new flights. I was just so upset because I knew Javed was expecting me at a certain time and had to drive 2 hours from Peshawar to Islamabad and this was going to throw everything off by a day. 

   I hadn't bothered to bring my cellphone (all-time dumb thing to do) because I certainly couldn't imagine the roaming charges of a call from Pakistan! My flight plan seemed so simple and easy, I had no idea a 30-45 minute flight from Chicago to Detroit would be 2 hours late! So the quickest way to get me to Javed was to stick me on Chicago-Raleigh-Gatwick-Doha(Qatar)-Islamabad. I was not happy at the thought of flying to Doha. I wasn't even sure where Qatar was at the time but assumed it was near Saudi Arabia (and it is). I didn't mind flying from London to Islamabad because Javed would be waiting for me, but to have to fly to some other Islamic country alone, not knowing the language, made me quite nervous. There was a brief moment where I just felt like giving up and going back home to Jackson. Of course I wasn't going to do that, people fly alone all the time and I'd just be in the airport. It probably wouldn't be too hard to find someone who spoke English.

   It was kind of cool to actually see men dressed in the long white robes and headgear at Doha. Qatar is this tiny little country surrounded by Saudi Arabia. I was pronouncing it Kuh-TAR but then heard it pronounced like ''Cutter'' in England. I think it's actually more like Cuttar. 
  
   The woman sitting next to me on the flight from NC to Gatwick had said Qatar airlines was supposed to be top of the line and it was, to my relief. That nice woman sitting next to me was actually Martha Wainwright. She was flying to perform with her brother Rufus at The Palladium in England. I was embarassed to not know who she was when she told me, but I listen to mainly Rock and Blues. I have since looked her and her brother up online to check out what kind of music they perform .... how lucky I was to meet her! I wish her and her brother the best of luck with their music careers and much happiness. Here's her website link if you're interested in hearing some of her music .http://www.marthawainwright.com/

   For some reason my presence seemed to cause some bad behavior on the next flight. There were 2 Germans (or Belgians) who enjoyed staring and giving me dirty looks, shaking their heads at me. Surprise! I had one of the best German teachers around in high school along with a bit in college so I could understand some of what they were saying. Horribly rude men, so rude I almost swore off ever visiting the country, nevermind that my current favorite brand of glass comes from there. I'm sure they don't represent typical Germans, I was just angry at the nerve of them to behave that way.

   Oh and then the man sitting next to me (in MY seat by the window actually, but I didn't mind letting him have it) eventually moved across the aisle and a row behind me. I was glad, not that he was a bad person or smelly, it just gave me some room to stretch out. He appeared to be Muslim and I'm sure it was a bit uncomfortable for him to be sitting so close as well. The problem was when someone he knew (I'm assuming they knew each other) came and sat behind me, across from him and started spouting off about how the Americans in Iraq were getting what they deserved...blah, blah BLAH....Ok we get it! You hate the USA and everyone in it. What an irritating ass he was. He just kept on and on and on. The man who had been sitting next to me tried to get him to quiet down but it didn't work. Seemed to be quite a topic he started and spread as I heard murmurs behind me along with those 2 Germans chiming in now and then with their own thoughts on fat Americans and their diet of cheeseburgers. I also later heard someone else in the group of men talking about ''doing something to me'' once we got on the ground in Islamabad. I wasn't frightened, just indignant.  I really, REALLY wanted to stand up and turn around and tell them to SHUT UP. Not everyone was behaving like barbarians, only a handful. I thought to myself,"You morons better pray you get off the plane first and disappear, if Javed and his friends find out how you acted towards me and see you..."
I just tried to ignore them as much as possible. 
   
   What pathetic excuses for men trying to harass a female traveling alone.The Qatar Airlines flight attendant finally came by and made the man behind me move and go back to his own seat. As we landed I heard someone behind me saying ''uh oh'' as they looked out the window. I decided to stay in my seat and wait as people got off the plane. I wanted to make sure Javed had some extra time to get there just in case some moron thought he'd show off for his friends and actually try to do something to me. I noticed the attendants keeping a man on board the plane and they made him sit and wait. They were talking a bit sternly towards him so not sure exactly what was going on or if it had to do with the ''uh-oh'' comment made by the person seeing what was out the window and waiting on the ground. So I decided to get my carry-on and get off the plane. I have no idea what that was all about.
Good God what an ordeal to get there.

   I was beyond tired when I arrived in Islamabad. I had all these thoughts running through my head. What if Javed is disappointed when he sees me in person? When I left Detroit I smelled good, had my hair looking pretty, makeup, manicure,etc. But when I had to stay overnight in Chicago I was missing my checked baggage that contained my curling iron and had no blow dryer. Now I'd  been traveling 2 days with no curling iron or hairspray, stale clothing and makeup plus a broken suitcase held together with bright orange VIRGIN tape. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that didn't I?

   England has this rule about only 1 carry-on. I had a small suitcase with wheels and a medium to large sized black purse. The woman at the security checkpoint at Gatwick said I either had to cram my purse into my carry-on or check my baggage. How stupid! I'm still carrying 2 bags, just one crammed inside the other! So I asked the man on the bench if he would mind moving over a bit so I could try to squeeze my bag inside. He began discussing the ridiculous 1 bag rule as I smashed the lid flat and zipped. 

   Whew! So I get back in line and the same woman asks if I have any liquids. Um yeah, and the ziploc bag is now encased inside my purse as well as my luggage. CRAP! So I go back to the bench and the same guy moves over as I explain my new predicament. I begin to unzip my bag but forget to press down on the lid and Zzzzipppp it busts. AGHGHHH! This guy was so nice and tried his best to help fix my zipper but couldn't do it. Now I had a broken suitcase wanting to spill it's contents. So one of the men working at the checkpoint had some bright orange tape about 2 inches wide that said ''Virgin Atlantic'' all across it and tried to wrap it across to hold the flap down. Of course the Virgin part was in pretty big letters with the Atlantic half smaller. Of course. I had a cloth, tapestry style suitcase so the tape didn't hold so well. 

   I was just glad they didn't make me check my bag because I wasn't sure I would see my larger checked suitcase at all. When I had left Chicago they didn't have a record of it but the woman at the American Airlines counter had told me she would put a note out to look for it with a description. She had said there was over an hour until my plane left so there was time for someone to find it. Thank goodness it did make it to Islamabad with me. 

   So there I was running around the Doha airport, unescorted American female with bright orange Virgin tape glaring across my busted suitcase. I'm laughing now as I type this but at the time I just wanted to disappear. I think I left a trail of tape like Hansel and Gretel. I remember some of it coming off on the transfer bus, some getting stuck to the stair rail, some in the airplane overhead bin and by the time we landed in Islamabad I had been carrying my rolling suitcase to keep it from spilling the contents.

   Anyway, not the sight I had wanted Javed to see for the very first time in person. But he must really love me! ;) His friend Asad was the first one I saw, he came up and asked if I was Tracy and said Javed was over here. I followed him past a bunch of people, looking and looking. I was so relieved and happy when I saw him! My trip had been so awful and I was exhausted and it was a bit of a blur. I remember being hurried to the car, introduced to Asad and Sher Ali who was driving. I sat in the back with Javed of course. This was all around 4am I think.  I remember thinking how he was even more handsome in person and how I must look like death warmed over. Or ran over. 

   I was so nervous in my new environment. There was a lot I wanted to say to Javed but held back because of the 2 other men in the vehicle. Javed put his arm around me while I leaned against him with my eyes closed, trying to rest. It just felt so good and comforting. We were stopped a couple times at checkpoints in Islamabad. I admit this scared me because they made Asad get out of the car and go talk to someone in front us while the one security officer looked like he was leaning awfully close behind Asad! Javed laughed a little when I told him what it looked like. I think the security sometimes hassle people, looking for money to hurry up and get them to let you go on your way. I definately had some culture shock my first few days in Pakistan.

   We arrived at the Green's Hotel located in town. Guards are positioned outside there as well. Javed and his friends would never let me carry my bags, ever. True gentlemen! The hotel was beautiful inside, looked like marble floors and an atrium inside. After the desk you walk up a small flight of steps and there are rooms along the edges, 4 stories up I think. There's a sitting area in the center of the atrium and as I looked up I could see large lanterns hanging down and green vines flowing down along the walkways of the higher levels.

   We go to our room and get settled in. I go into the bathroom...and stop in my tracks. The toilet is like nothing I've ever seen. Similiar to ours but elongated, it made me think of something you might see in a men's bathroom. Why is there a watering can on the floor? Ohhhhhhhhhh. I believe most people don't use toilet paper, they wash with water instead.

   Javed is always trying to make me happy and I had told him it was important we stayed somewhere with an American style bathroom. I know Pakistan is a developing country but I just had no idea what to expect. My first trip overseas and the scariest place I had ever been before was Douglas on the Arizona/Mexican border. I take that back, Douglas is a tie with Livernois Avenue while lost in Detroit (not a good place to stop and ask for directions but that's a whole other story). After a few days I became used to seeing guards/police with guns standing around. I'm glad they were there.

The Blue Palace

   Javed calls his friend at the American Consulate who is friends with the owner or manager of a guest house called The Blue Palace. We stayed at the Green's another night and then was able to move to the guest house. I don't mean any disrespect to the staff of the Green's Hotel, everyone I met was nice to me. It was just a bit noisy, maybe because we were near the restaurant area of the hotel.

   I met Javed's friend Reza briefly as we were driving somewhere, I can't even remember where we were going this time. Very nice man. Thank you for helping us Reza!

   We get checked into the guest house and go up to our room. NICE! The bed is HUGE, at least king size with a huge upholstered headboard, tv, big closet along one wall, pretty blue and white tile bathroom with a tub and shower. The toilet's really big around and long compared to the one back home plus there's a mini hand-held shower-looking thing next to it. Why am I going into such detail about a foreign toilet? Because it's something I would wonder about but not really want to ask. Just something different. I didn't know people in other countries used fixtures in the floor until I asked my friend from college, Haritha. She's from India and we had a discussion once about bathrooms over there. I guess there's a porcelain basin set into the floor with what look like foot pedals ...to help you get situated and aim I guess. We laughed a little as I asked questions and she tried to explain how it worked. Most people in Pakistan use something similiar I think and I'm glad I knew to let Javed know I really wanted a Western style "sitting" toilet. And I'm not looking down on anyone who uses the hole-in-the-floor model (no pun intended), it's just not what I'm used to and I didn't want to be that adventurous. Especially spending over half my trip with stomach problems (but hey I lost 10 pounds!). Hopefully I can keep it off and lose some more. Hmmm, maybe we could bottle the water from there and market it here as ''Miracle Diet Water!'' Kidding, but I bet there are people out there who would buy it.

   The Blue Palace is really beautiful. As you pull into the drive there are armed security guards. It's located in what is considered a posh area where many foreigners live or stay. As you walk up the steps to the patio/porch area, if you look up you'll see some amazing mosaics! Blue, white and mirrored tiles. The door is ornate carved wood and the stairs inside look like marble. We were on the 2nd floor and at the end of the hall was a door leading outside to the roof. Javed took some photos from the roof as a horse and cart were driving by. I felt a lot better here, safer.

Shopping

   I realized I hadn't packed any shoes that would match my wedding dress. So we went back into town to try to find a shoe store. I'm going to tell you, every minute in Peshawar city traffic is a near miss with either another car, bus, bike or pedestrian. Carts being pulled by small horses and donkeys were a common sight as well. I'm the kind of person that always wore seatbelts before it was a law and other people's driving makes me a little nervous. So now imagine being me, in this insane city traffic where people are constantly blowing their horns and coming so close to your car I don't think you could fit your leg between them. Oh and no seat belts in this particular vehicle. I only noticed working seatbelts in Sufi's car, who generously gave us his time and use of his vehicle to drive to Attock City.

   I've never seen anything like it. Everyone just rushes for the same opening, trying to pass and making their own lanes. Pakistanis drive on the left side, opposite of the US. I'm not joking when I tell you I was praying for our safety whenever we had to drive somewhere. A few times I just took off my glasses so I couldn't see what was going on. I had to laugh one day though, we were waiting in traffic and I looked up ahead and saw a passenger in one of those small motorized carts. He had his leg out and was resting his foot on the back of the vehicle in frontof/next to him. I asked Javed if the guy was trying to push them out of the way.

   I smiled when I saw a group of small boys with a goat on a leash, like a dog. It's tough being an animal lover and seeing street dogs running loose, dodging traffic. Ohhhh and the poor skin and bones horse I saw pulling a cart. I saw a few like that, the ribs sticking out so much it made my heart ache. Street dogs are a problem though, I read an article in the newspaper while I was there about a rabid dog that bit around 64 people in one day before it was finally caught. Even Javed was almost attacked by a group of dogs one night, last year I think it was. Luckily a couple policemen came around and scared them off.

   There aren't sidewalks like ours either. Sometimes you were walking on packed dirt and/or uneven concrete. You know how you go to walk up steps here and they're pretty uniform in height? Not there. Inside yes, I'd see beautiful marble steps in some of the stores but outside the steps seemed more of an afterthought. Forget elevators and escalators, you walked up flights of stairs if there was more than one story to a building. Many Pakistanis also walk or ride bikes if they need to go somewhere.

   So anyway, we go into one store and walk up to the top floor which was women's shoes and purses- yeah! Shoes were displayed on the wall behind glass and a sale was going on so there was also a large table in the middle of the room full of loose shoes. We walked along the wall checking out the displays. Javed caught me staring at some embroidered ones with curled up pointy toes and shook his head no. Ha! I was looking at them thinking of Arabian Nights and wondering ''is that really in style?'' I told Javed he needed to help me choose a pair because I had no clue what was fashionable or in style to wear in Peshawar. Most of the shoes I saw on the table looked like a size 7 and it was hard to find a match for my blue and gold dress.

   I had a hard time finding shoes in my size. These darn, huge Nordic feet I inherited from my grandmother! The better to walk on snow? ;)  So I had to settle for a pair of sandals with gold colored gems on top. The color went with the trim on my dress so it worked out.

   I was so hot up there in my shalwar kameez and wrapped in my dupatta. I'm guessing it was upper 60's or lower 70's...Spring or early Summer weather in Michigan but that's cold to people in Peshawar. It was so surprising to see Javed and his friends wearing coats and turning the heater on in the car! I kept wanting to roll the window down. I was beginning to get frustrated with the whole ''covering up'' thing towards the end of my trip. My shawls kept wanting to creep off my head and shoulders, I had to keep readjusting them and slinging the end back over my shoulder. Plus the days were so warm to me I wanted to run around in my jeans and t-shirt. No,no,no. The novelty was wearing off.

   I really do like the clothes Javed had made for me and I'll probably still wear some of the long tops and shawls with my jeans or skirts. The shawls were my favorite though, such beautiful designs and handwork. I love the tiny mirrors embroidered onto the fabric. They're also called dupatta. They've inspired me to do some matching patterned beads.

(Click on the photos for a larger view)

My Wedding

   Our wedding was small and informal, which is what I wanted. A traditional Pakistani wedding usually lasts for 3 days. I was sorry we didn't get to have a mehndi ceremony though, there just wasn't time. Javed's friend and boss, Safdar, was so kind and generous to us (his wife Samia is so beautiful), I love his whole family really. They were all so nice to me. We had the Nikah ceremony in his home.

   Nikah is the Islamic ceremony. I was led up to Safdar's room which also includes a seperate sitting room. Curtains seperate the two. I sat on the edge of the bed with Javed. Safdar presented me with a flat, golden latched box, a gift from him and his family. I opened it and couldn't believe my eyes! I was looking at a beautiful gold necklace and matching earrings! It was already a pretty emotional day for me and this act of kindness and generosity pushed me over the edge and the tears started coming. I'm such a crybaby.

   Javed went into the sitting room while I stayed sitting on the bed. I'd guess there were around 8 men in there with the holy man. I think he's called an Imam or something like that, but not sure exactly. They parted the curtains so I could see and hear what was going on. I was incredibly nervous. That's awful to say but it's the truth. Normally I try to be careful with what I say so I don't offend anyone or hurt their feelings, but I'm trying to convey my own true personal experiences and feelings. I guess many men and women are probably nervous on their wedding day.

   I couldn't understand what was being said. I was told to hold out my hands, palms up and repeat what sounded like Iman (ee-mon) when everyone else did. Sounded like a version of ''Amen'' to me and I assumed that's what it was. It felt so strange to have Javed in the other room away from me, I didn't like being seperated from him even if he was only about 8 steps away.

   Afterwards we signed and placed our thumbprints on the wedding certificates and had the required signatures from the witnesses. Everyone looked so happy for us. I felt like I was in a daze. Just so much going on at once it seemed and everything happening so fast. But I'm very happy to be married to Javed! 

   We stopped at his family's home and Javed's mother gave me a gift of beautiful jewelry with blue stones to match my dress. His family is great, very welcoming and happy to see us. I received hugs from the women, handshakes from the brothers and a pat on the head from dad. Muslim men don't usually touch other women but I think his brothers wanted me to feel welcome. I had told Javed before how I usually hug friends and family when I see them and it was going to be a hard impulse to check. He had told me it was ok to shake hands with his family. Just a difference in cultures.

   They brought in beautiful smelling Jasmine and Rose garlands for us to wear around our necks. I've never seen anything like it, they were so pretty. I can't imagine how long it would take to make something like that with all those tiny little Jasmine flowers. They had a video camera and I kept laughing nervously. There had been a cam at our Nikah ceremony also but I haven't seen any of it yet. I'm sure I'll be embarassed because the nervous giggle was there too. Not during the serious part though, thank goodness.

   The next night was the wedding dinner. During the Nikah ceremony I had worn a pink satin shalwar kameez instead of my wedding dress. But tonight I wore the blue dress and dupatta along with the matching jewelry from Javed's mother. I did wear the gold earrings from Safdar and his family though, I wanted to wear something from both.

      There was a group of men waiting outside for us, Javed's friends and family. As we walked in I was handed bouquets of flowers along with boxes of sweets. How nice! Inside I was seated at a small table with Javed's mother, sister, sister-in-law and brother. I noticed the men were all at a larger table and one of the restaurant staff came and placed dividers around us. I asked Javed's sister, Tehmeena, what all that was for. She explained that women are kept seperate from the men. It was ok for Javed's brother to be with us I guess because he was family and Nusrat's husband. I noticed I was the only female with my hair uncovered. After sitting with the guys for a bit, Javed came and joined us. The food was spicy for me of course. Javed is so sweet though, he went and brought me back some dessert, pudding with cherries, the only thing that didn't burn my mouth. We had some more photos taken and then went back to the guest house. I appreciated people helping us celebrate and was happy to see them, but was glad to be back at the guest house.

   I'm so happy I feel like I'm dreaming. I couldn't believe I was actually there in Pakistan and with this wonderful man! We just have such a true love for each other, soul mates. I'm so thankful for my gift from God. That's what Javed is. I have just never felt love like this before. We'd be traveling in the car and I'd look over at him and just smile because I couldn't stop the grin, I was that happy. I always feel safe with Javed.

   The time went way too fast. We visited some friends' homes; Zulfiqar, Shir Ali, Taj. You've never seen such wonderful hospitality until you've been to Peshawar. Every time we visited someone's home, I was seated and a tray of drink and food placed in front of me. I was so nervous about EVERYTHING. Even in private homes, women are usually in a seperate sitting area. Javed would go off with the guys and I'd be led into a room with the women. English is taught in Pakistani schools but there was still a bit of a language barrier. I spent most of my visits smiling with that nervous giggle popping up. I knew very few words and phrases like how to say hello, goodbye, thank you and you're welcome. The rest of my Urdu was reserved for Javed (I love you, etc).

   At Taj's home I was given a small glass of zamzam- holy water from Mecca. I had to stand and drink it with my right hand. There's also a phrase said before drinking but I can't remember what it was. Taj told me about it but they didn't expect me to repeat it. I was touched that they offered that water to me, how generous. Thank you Taj and Maryam. His brother had went to Mecca for the pilgrimage every able Muslim is expected to make at least once in their life, Hajj. Here's a link to an article that explains the zamzam water in more detail http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zamzam_Well .

   At Zulfiqar's I sat and chatted with his sister and sister-in-law. They brought me a photo album of his brother's wedding. Most brides wear a red dress. I saw photos of the beautiful mehndi designs adorning the women's hands. The bride traditionally wears a yellow outfit for the mehndi ceremony. Zulfiqar's sister-in-law really was so beautiful in her red dress and gold jewelry. When a woman gets married in Pakistan, she usually goes to live with her husband's family. I was given a wrapped wedding gift which I opened later with Javed at the guest house. A beautiful black shawl with hand embroidered designs!

   Our last stop was Shir Ali's home. I met his beautiful wife and was introduced to his children. Also I met his mother and her 2 sisters plus the neighbor's had heard I was coming and were there as well. I was sitting in a room full of women and children! And they were all looking at me and I didn't know what to say. But we attempted conversation anyway. I do love the clothing Pakistani women wear, the traditional clothing, it just looks so feminine and pretty. A wedding gift was given to me while I was there, and one of the aunts gave me a 100 rupee note, I have the photo of it up above. When the women found out we had our nikah ceremony already and were married, they began lifting their arms and chanting something. Was I supposed to do something? I just smiled and laughed after putting my eyes back in my head. Such wonderful people. I wish I had taken photos with them.

   We had meant to also visit Asad's home so I could meet his sister and Taj's wife had wanted to see me again but we ran out of time. I was sad that my trip was nearing the end.

Attock City

   When I had been at Javed's home, I had used his computer to send my mother an email letting her know about the hotel switch and so she'd know everything was fine. I also checked my mail and had received a general warning from the American Embassy in Islamabad. My email said:
   ''The U.S. Mission has received non-specific information regarding terrorist attacks, possibly suicide attacks, against U.S. interests or places frequented by Westerners in the major cities in Pakistan, such as Islamabad, Karachi, Lahore, and Peshawar.
   Targets could also include Christian churches, markets, the diplomatic enclave and convention center (Islamabad), and other crowded areas.  Americans are advised to take every precaution, avoid popular markets and restaurants, and vary routes and times. The Embassy would like to remind the American citizen community of the need to stay alert, be aware of your surroundings, reduce travel to minimum acceptable levels, act self-defensively at all times. We remind American citizens that threats, protests and demonstrations may occur throughout Pakistan without prior notice or warning and to avoid all demonstrations and protests.''

   Wunderbar. So anyway, I didn't get to do some things I would have liked, like go to the old bazaar to find some really neat handmade items. But I had come to Pakistan to be with Javed and really just wanted to spend time with him. The only other thing I had really wanted to do was look for some cool beads to bring home, but that was ok, koi baat nahi. Next time. :) Better safe than sorry.

   I knew Pakistan wasn't the safest place for me to go but was still a little surprised at how things were during my trip. From the anti-American feelings vocalized on the planes to seeing armed guards everywhere. I also had truly believed that most of the world was angry with the US Government in general, not the American people. I guess it's no different than some idiot here spouting anti-Muslim sentiments or treating a person rudely because they look Middle Eastern. Just an FYI for those who aren't aware, Pakistan is part of Asia therefore Pakistanis are Asians, not Arabs and not Middle Eastern. Not that either of those are bad.  I chalk it up to ignorance. By ignorance I mean true lack of understanding and education about each other. There's a lot I still don't know as well and hopefully the information I've given throughout is correct. And like Javed says, there are good and bad people everywhere.

   We're going to Attock City today and Zulfiqar and his friend Sufi are picking us up. I really like Javed's friends and feel pretty comfortable with them. Our friends. Since we'll be driving for an hour or so and walking outside I decide to wear my jeans. Ohhh they feel so good, I missed them. I still wear a shawl to cover myself.

   The drive is nice, I'm glad to be able to see another area, the countryside. Peshawar has a bit of a pollution problem and it's nice to breathe fresh air. We drive through some small mountains that really made me think of driving in areas of Arizona. I remember driving through the Paradise Valley area to get to the dog park and how the stretch of road that curves along the mountain looks a lot like a stretch of road we're driving along here. We get to Attock city which I think is kind of like a vacation or resort town? The Kabul River flows through and there are restaurants along the road that serve fresh fish. We stop and park and walk down to the river. I'm asked if I'd like to ride the suspended cable car across to the other side. No thank you. I hate to be rude but I'm sure the safety standards are lacking as well. I can't see myself crossing over the river in that, I'm not a fan of heights. Javed tells me a lot of people drown trying to swim in the river. I look and see some large rocks or boulders jutting out of the middle and an area of small rapids. Close to shore it looks harmless but I can imagine the fast current and undertow. The water is murky too, muddy looking.

   We took some photos and sat on the rocks and breathed the cleaner air. Then we went and sat in one of the little huts where the guys ordered food. They even ordered some fish without spices for me, but I couldn't eat. I felt bad about being sick, like I was ruining our trip. I was just happy to get out and see someplace else in Pakistan. 
Javed and his friends and family tried to get me to see a doctor while I was there. After everything I had seen and experienced so far, I just didn't want to risk a trip to the hospital. What if they wanted to give me a shot or draw blood? Do they use new needles everytime or sanitize and recycle what they have? What kind of sanitary standards do the hospitals have? These were my concerns, I didn't want to expose myself to something worse. I hope I'm not sounding ''uppity'' because that's not my thinking at all. I just know that Pakistan is a developing country struggling to improve and doing the best they can with what they have.