Friday, December 20th - Quetta
My money has arrived this morning, on my second visit to the bank in late morning. Banking in this part of the world feels especially bureaucratic, but here it is - $500 cash – which I discreetly tuck away. I exit the bank like a spy, looking around to see if I am being followed. I am not, though I know I will be much more careful from this point onward. According to my mother, who I chat with today to confirm that I have received it, my own monies I have saved for the trip have dried up. Eeek! She says she can cover me until I get home, which is still nine weeks away. Fortunately, India is reputed to be quite inexpensive.
I visit a camera store here and the owner looks inside my camera to see if he can do anything with it. He manages to take part of it apart and put it back together again and it seems to be working. He only has print film so I buy a roll to check it out. It seems to be taking pictures and advancing properly, my second piece of good news today.
The five of us trek down to the railway station to buy our tickets to Rawalpindi. We make sure to get second class tickets where we will be assured seating. At this time of year, we agree that it makes no sense to buy first class for the air conditioning, since first class is double the price. I am disheartened to find out that the journey will take 18 hours. We will leave at 1 pm tomorrow and arrive in Rawalpindi around 7 am the next morning. It promises to be a grueling trip.
Vincent has a new haircut. He has had all of his head shorn like a buzz cut except for a large tuft about his forehead which he is training to stand straight up. It is both modern and comic. Older Pakistani men look at it, shake their heads and laugh. It gets their conversation going. One doesn’t need to speak the local language to know what they are saying, that the barber must have died before he finished or that he has kept it to keep his hat from falling forward. Vincent pays them no mind. He likes that it creates a stir and shows an alternative way of being.
Tonight I get my bags ready and stroll around before sunset to get a couple shots of Quetta. Tomorrow I will see the Indus Valley, one of the oldest cradles of civilization in the world and where Alexander the great had his greatest victory after his army walked all the way here from Macedonia. I feel fortunate to have a bike, and paved roads.
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