A visit to Pakistan and India

Taj Mahal Hotel

A few things about a hot experience

Pierre Dietrichsen

Translated from the original Afrikaans

Meintjeskop Courier III/1993

One of the consequences of the activities of the “Team of 26” negotiators was that the crowd of us here on Meintjeskop can now go and visit places the names of which was all we knew before. This is how we gradually began to understand what colleagues from other countries with verbosity and gestures tell of hardship posts in some exotic-sounding place.

An experience of that nature was recently the lot of the small team when they visited India and Pakistan. A visit to India was arranged for the Director-General and Mr Evert Riekert and I would accompany him to be the advance party for the opening of a mission there and then to visit Pakistan with the same purpose and to arrange a visit for the DG to that country.

The complexities of the programmes and international journeys from the outset became an issue and a suitable date before summer became involved in the matter and suitable dates before the summer changed to a visit in the summer. I have to confess that there are more angles that this travelogue can start. But the heat was one of the first observations of all of us, so it is in the right place!

The boss of Administration was the first to arrive, just past midnight he said. The arrivals hall was big and wide and passengers from several 747s would easily fit in it. Everyone was convivial and shuffled to the front of the passport counter, only to discover that it was teatime. The temperature was around thirty degrees, but felt more like forty while the air conditioning and the fans tried  hard to prevent a small war from breaking out on Delhi airport.

Suitcases fortunately arrived in one piece, but after a two-hour battle to get out of the building, the temperature outside almost made one long for the relative cool inside.

There was no sign of the hotel taxi, but fortunately there was another driver who decided that “Mr Riekert” sounded close enough to the name on his list and shortly thereafter EPR was on his way to the hotel.  Somewhere there is an accountant who cannot understand how the strange signature got onto his colleague’s or boss’s form …. or something! DDGZ was only too happy to reach the hotel (but is still wondering if the smell of the humidity and curry can ever be washed out of the place’s sheets.)

The DG and I approach the Sub-continent from a different angle. We were luckier at the airport except with the official gifts which I carried with me. One of the paperknives which had to be handed in at the start of the flight for security reasons took three quarters of an hour to re-emerge. 

The journey to the hotel was uneventful if you take into account that the traffic works on the law of the jungle, namely the bravest goes first. We soon encountered the proverbial Holy Cow and saw that she is indeed the most important road-user.

The Taj Mahal hotel provided a beautiful view over the tree-lined city with Sir Herbert Baker’s two smaller versions of the Union Buildings in the distance. Our appointments in one of the two buildings filled the rest of the day, but on the way back we could deviate to drive past some of the oldest temples. One was left with the impression of an enormously old civilisation and the phenomenon that the passage of time and the extreme climate had taken their toll of the preservation and maintenance of these irreplaceable monuments. Truly sad.

Two further observations: Women filled important positions everywhere, and Indians were very friendly and interested in the visitors and what is happening in South Africa. During a working lunch opinions were exchanged fiercely and fast between academics, journalists, businessmen and officials about South Africa and especially our future. Knowledgeable people with experience of Africa filled the one corner and those with other experience or none filled the other corner and climbed in with the support of the “referee”. Our little team and the Delhi representative of a prominent WTC (?) conversation partner were later amused observers. The food was faithful to tradition and made a lasting impression.

The DG’s flight left after midnight and early the next morning Mr Riekert and I started our journey to Islamabad via Karachi. Before our time in Delhi came to an end we went to a shop to purchase some typical souvenirs. Much to our amusement within a few seconds DDGZ was looking into the camera wrapped in a beautiful sari.    

We haggled energetically over prices and in our wisdom decided that we should rather wait until later at the end of our trip in Bombay (now Mumbai) to make our purchases with our last few dollars. Prices would in any case probably be better we convinced ourselves…. little knowing. We were smart enough to take a delight in the very artistic wood carvings of, for instance, a small elephant inside another one.

The flight to Karachi was without problems and we were impressed by the standard of the PIA. The airport at Karachi was impressive. New, clean, effective, with helpful staff. Considerably bigger than our no 1. The flight to Islamabad brought with it a few experiences. We tried the local cuisine and soon realised that delicate taste buds would need “four-wheel drive” to handle everything. Very tasty, but with a high “voltage”. Then we needed water!! The first glass we were offered did not impress and we asked for bottled water. This also did not look like what we had expected and after one gulp we took out the pills to purify what we had been given. To our consternation after about seven minutes a centimetre of jelly had formed in the bottom of our glasses.

Assistance was not available from wine and beer as they are banned in public places in this Muslim country. We had to rely on the world-renowned cola drink without ice to neutralise the effect of the cuisine.

Islamabad is a city that was established after Pakistan’s independence from greater India in the 1940s, adjoining the city of Rawalpindi – the new next to the old. It is relatively high above sea level, next to mountains with their narrow roads that wind their way towards the well-known Khyber Pass.

The city is well planned with wide streets and neat modern government buildings. On the outskirts one finds the real Pakistan with open-air markets and restaurants where rice is sold within a stone’s throw of where the camels are grazing.

Busses and lorries are painted in bright colours and the one is more beautiful than the next.

We viewed one of the largest mosques in the world with four tall minarets on the corners.

In a moment of surreal cultural gathering we chatted with Chinese visitors who had locked the keys of their hired Japanese vehicle inside, while our Pakistani driver tried to assist them. The mountain track was sufficient to get us talking about the flask of Scottish “medicine” safely stowed in a suitcase in the hotel.

After a day and a half of constructive meetings with counterparts and other people knowledgeable about the local lifestyle in embassies, we took a PIA flight to Karachi where we undertook the same exercise.

Karachi welcomed us on Friday, the Muslim Sabbath, with quiet streets, 35 degrees C and lots and lots of humidity. Estate agents work, of course (just like ours on a Sunday!) and before long we were on a wild chase from consulate to consulate after that to all the empty houses in the residential suburbs of Defence and Clifton (no less). The more we explained that we were not there and then to clinch a deal, the more we were overwhelmed with help. The heat in each of the vacant houses was, of course, unbearable and the DDGZ and I were pleased each time to dive back into the air conditioning of the little Honda. What struck us immediately was that many well-to-do people lived in the inner city.

Big houses with high security walls, guards and a bathroom for every bedroom were aplenty. Kitchens were clearly not a priority, obviously because the owneresses did not often visit their kitchens. With our exposure to the food of the region we of course well understood the value of the freely available private facilities! We were less impressed with the beaches. Every sole we saw there was covered from head to toe in appropriate garb. In spite of the heat, sunburn was clearly not a problem.

I must tell our female colleagues that the country is the opposite of India as regards the role of ladies. Nowhere did we encounter a woman in a prominent position and the nearest we got to a smile or eye contact was from a solitary air hostess who gaped at our antics in the water. Perhaps there is hope now that a woman has entered politics in person of Benazir Bhutto.

After a bumpy night flight on the edge of the monsoon we arrived in Bombay. What an enormous and densely populated city! Many impressions quickly struck one. On the one hand the ancient civilisation and the beautiful colonial buildings and on the other the misery of overpopulation and poverty.

Along the elegant promenade in front of the best hotels imaginable where the wealthy stroll there were heartrending scenes of children and teenagers begging to survive. Every little stoep and little passageway were lived in by people – except for official buildings and buildings with their own security arrangements.

Yet among the population in the markets and in the streets there was a sort of exuberance and energy to be seen. There were the deep philosophical and religious facets of the people towards life and the hereafter which played a role in their day-to-day existence that is hard for westerners to understand, or possibly to accept. As in India in general, Bombay is full of fascinating and conflicting qualities. 

For the visiting South African there is a certain familiarity which colonial history and the superficial knowledge of their culture gives one, but the more one finds out the less one understands. There are extremes of climate, language, development, and almost every facet of life. A short visit is just enough to make one wonder and in spite of the troubling about the poverty, for instance, this was an experience I would not have wanted to miss.

Although there would need to be many adjustments to one’s lifestyle, Pakistan and India are extremely interesting and a term in the region would without a doubt be an experience not easily to be forgotten.