Chaman and Waris Nihari

It was another day of working on the computer at the hostel. In the evening, we grabbed some ice cream at Chaman with our friend Umar. Afterwards, we took a rickshaw into some windy roads with heavy traffic to pick up some nihari at Waris Nihari. I just had the rickshaw wait for us, because the place was a mess with traffic.

Working

I worked on designs for backgrounds for "Risalo". In the evening we had dinner with a friend of Kristeen’s from the Peace Festival in Chandigarh back in 2009.

Watching "Moor"

After some work in the morning, we head over to Fortress Stadium, to get away from the hustle bustle of the older parts of the city for a bit. We hopped on a rickshaw and went there. I wanted to check out a film called “Moor”, so we went to a nice movie theater in a mall to watch it there.It is really great to see the Pakistani film industry reviving. This isn’t just about making new movies, but about developing all the talent that goes into making something great. Based on my own, very grassroots efforts to create a film here, I can certainly appreciate the challenges. Though a number of these films are sponsored by local tv channels, I have no doubt that each production deals with untold numbers of challenges to reach the screen, whether funded by a local media outlet or not. It is very promising to see channels supporting films, as that is probably the only way to create a financially viable industry. The sheer number of films coming out seems to indicate that companies are making enough money to continue. I look forward to this commercial industry paving the way for a parallel cinema in the future that represents the quality of writing I see in short stories and novels in our local literature.I had seen trailers for “Moor”, directed by Jami, known for his music video work. The shots from the trailers, featuring landscapes from Balochistan were gorgeous. The composition and color was truly breathtaking. The film itself felt rather long. There were a lot of beautiful shots, and I liked the premise of the story, which was quite different than some of the other Pakistani films coming out. “Moor” seemed to try and tackle something a bit deeper and made an attempt at portraying the intersections of class and various struggles that are very much connected. The strongest scenes to me were the montage scenes, which were more poetic and similar to music videos. The rest of it had a lot of visual beauty, which is no small feat in itself, but in terms of the characters, their humanity and dimensionality, I felt that much could be done to build upon this start in the future.Things were quite dramatic, yet the dialogue and progression of the story did not seem to effectively build up to moments that created an understanding in the viewer, rather than just telling us what happened, or perhaps pushing too many stories and moments into the film without allowing them to develop in a satisfying way.Anyway, I was glad to see “Moor”, regardless. In a country where so much is falling apart, it brings me a great deal of joy to see what seems to me, a real honest effort at something better. As a filmmaker myself, I marvel at all the successfully executed parts of the film and aspire to learn and do my best in my own work. I certainly look forward to Jami’s future work. Seeing a work with so much beauty, it is easy to focus on what is lacking, but as a filmmaker, it reminds me how astonishingly difficult it is to connect on all the levels that a truly great film can. Each film is hopefully a step towards getting there.Afterwards we walked around the nice malls, ate some food and walked around a bunch more before heading back to the hostel. Ustad Anb Jogi was on his way back from Islamabad. It’s a long and grueling ride back to Hyderabad, so he stopped in to get some sleep. It was good to see him before he head out once again in the early morning to get the rest of the way home.

Nisbat, Beadon, Hall

I head out to Nisbat, Beadon and Hall road, to check out lighting gear. It takes a lot to ask questions and even more to get any real answers about anything and everything. A few hours in the heat and your day is done. My friend Ustad Anb Jogi dropped by at night on his way to Islamabad.

Light from Nisbat

After a bit of calling around, I learned that Sunday was the day that different markets sold cut piece or smaller pieces of cloth. I don’t know why the many shops I asked never offered up this information, but that is the way much of the information gathering for this project has been.That saved me a lot of needless travel in the morning. I did some small video tests with my available lighting and camera equipment. I researched some lighting options locally, thanks to help from an LED specialist I had met in Los Angeles, who is from Pakistan. He had given me the local manager of his business’ number in Karachi. I called him, mentioned his boss and he helped me right away. I sent him specs on a simple LED light I had, and he looked up the closest match. Not only that, he found a retailer with a reasonable price. Based on that, I found one here in Lahore with the same price, then went and picked it up.Afterwards, we grabbed some food at Gawal Mandi, the so called “Food Street”. A bit of walking in traffic after, followed by a rickshaw ride back and the day was done. The new light is pretty good. Of course it is missing a nut, so I need to ask about it or find a replacement nut, but it is pretty bright. I think if I can pick up one more and find some lamps for the photo bulbs I brought, I should be covered for lighting. The alternative would be to rent higher end gear, but I like these lights for being light, portable, battery operated, not prone to heating up and sufficient to light the small area needed for this puppetry film.

Lahore Museum

I had hoped to go cloth hunting over the last few days, but it just did not happen. I remember seeing a great variety of cloth shops in Delhi Gate that seemed to be a good place to try and piece together these backgrounds.We hopped on a rickshaw and head over there just after noon. The walk through the short portion that has been renovated and freed of encroachments and sign boards is quite nice. It is a glimpse of what this place could be. The cloth shops begin a bit after Masjid Wazir Khan. There are so many varieties of cloth, but as it turned out, they are wholesalers so they do not sell the small quantities I need for my work.By that point, we were tired from the heat and the challenges of getting information. They had all the kinds of cloth I could want, but did not sell smaller pieces. We walked back out, caught a rickshaw, then head to the Lahore Museum and spent some time looking at beautiful pieces of architecture, sculpture and paintings. Afterwards, we head back and grabbed some daal and rice from the little corner stand. It was really good, as a lot of food here tends to be.After a few hours of rest and asking around some more for where I might find cloth, Imran suggested a few places with Krishan Nagar being the closest. It was less than a 1 km away, so I just walked over there. There were many cloth shops, but this time they sold patterned cloth by the suit, as in you needed to buy enough for a set of clothes. I could not get the meter and a half or so that I wanted. Well, that was the end of another day of searching. I came back and we had some dinner that we made, then rested. I have a few more leads for places to check. I need to muster up the strength to go to them tomorrow.

Anarkali and the sunday book bazar

We took a walk through Anarkali, ate some haleem, then head over to the sunday used book bazar. The sidewalks are lined with booksellers. It is fun to see the variety of books, long out of print. I have already picked up a bunch of books on this trip, so I am trying to be very selective about getting any more. I did not plan to buy anything. It’s just fun to look at the interesting book covers and discover topics and books in Urdu and English from years ago. You get a sense for what people have been writing about.At the end of the line of book sellers, I came across an interesting art book that I could not resist. It was a book of paintings by a couple of Chinese watercolorists (Lin Yong and Su Hua), documenting their trip through Pakistan in 1978 and 1981, called “Pakistan”.Afterwards, my aunt picked us up and we head to her place for another amazing meal. I got to catch up with some cousins who very talented painters as well.

Baby goat in the window

I spent the morning going over blog posts. During July, I had stopped posting all together. I kept writing, but things were so difficult while working on the music for “Risalo” that I could not bring myself to keep posting. So it was, that in mid August, I was rereading and posting blog entries from July.It is a bit difficult to read through those posts. The weight of those struggles is still here, though some distance and time has helped me push ahead. I try to focus on the great people that helped me through the process. Once again, I find myself looking at and getting to know a new set of people, connected through old friends who offer advice and assistance, without which things would be impossible.I did some research and a few sketches for the first cloth background I want to create for “Risalo”. I looked at some other examples of quilted landscapes and flat color, graphic shape landscapes for inspiration. It helps to see how others have tackled a particular challenge.A little goat was crying in the yard behind the hostel room. My wife and I saw it come up to the window. We saw it through the screen and dirty glass. She suggested that we feed it the yogurt she just made with spices in it. I reminded her that Pakistanis don’t feed goats spicy yogurt, we eat goats with spicy yogurt. I don’t know, I didn’t want the little fella to have a problem with spices. I’ve only ever fed grass to goats. The hostel doors on that side have locks on them, so I walked around and found a gate to that same yard. I opened it and the little goat followed me out. Then I was told that someone had brought it for safe keeping. A guard put it back in. I went to get some water for the little goat, but by the time I stepped back out of my room with it, the goat’s owner was taking care of it. In the evening we visited some relatives and enjoyed some delicious food.

Independence Day

I spent most of the morning resting and looking at the strings on the puppets to get a better understanding of how they work. I want to try and get the basics of manipulating them down. The strings and what they control are straight forward, but the best way to wrap them around fingers for control is more challenging. There are videos my wife took of Puran Bhatt, Rajesh Gurjargour and the book on puppetry to help with this. Strings get tangled easily as well, so a lot of care must be taken in handling and putting them away.It was nice to just cook some food at home and eat. We went over to “new” Anarkali, then walked through to Lohari Gate and picked up some sweets, then head back through Anarkali and home. People are out, waving flags after the rains. We took several detours to avoid streets filled with water. The water should recede by tomorrow as it usually does.

Friends and plans on the eve of independence day

I’ve been reading more of “Kathputhli” by Nazir Ali Jairazbhoy. There are some great sections on puppet manipulation and some of the descriptions on how the strings are held and used are particularly helpful. Now I need to practice this. It takes a process to go from concept art to execution of a design in its final form in such a way that it conveys what was intended.I’m looking at the rough backgrounds that I painted for the animatic (the moving storyboards) for “Risalo”. A couple of months ago, I did some sketches to narrow down how many backgrounds I would actually need based on that. For the two main stories, Sur Sorath and Sur Sohni, there are about 26 backgrounds. I may need to narrow that down further, but that’s what I have planned at this stage. My friend, courtesy of Imran Siddiqui, Umar came over. We have met some really fun and interesting friends here. Umar, Umair and Beenish dropped by.I took Umar through the animatic, some music recordings, puppetry videos from Multan that I had put together and then the puppets themselves. We brainstormed some ideas on how to take these backgrounds sketches and turn them into something that works for the film as well as staying grounded in the world of traditional puppetry with some artistic liberties. Traditionally, the stage is set with two charpoys (cots) stood up, with their legs facing each other. A bamboo rod is set between the ropes on both charpoys. Cloth is draped above the rod to hide the puppeteer from the audience and below the bamboo to form a backdrop for the puppetry stage. Often, there is an additional cloth with windows (jaali) draped at the front of the stage, behind which the performance takes place.I removed the jaali and will likely create a more modular framework, rather than actual charpoys to suspend cloth. I don’t need to hide the puppeteers as I can simply frame the camera as needed. What I do need, is a cloth on the background and on the floor of the stage that can indicate where a particular scene takes place in the story. I want to keep it abstract and simple enough to not be distracting. Umar and I worked on some ideas and will hopefully begin work on a prototype next week. He had some really good suggestions which makes the process a lot more fun as well.During this time, we had a stream of friends join us. Imran and a coworker friend of his dropped by, as well as Raza of the Awami Artist Collective. It was actually a lot of fun to figure out how I might approach technical aspects of lighting and camera work as well as securing equipment and help for these tasks. Without this community, I would be on my own, and quite unable to navigate or access the kinds of resources that I may be able to leverage.With independence day only hours away, we head out to Anarkali and ate a delicious meal over a lot of joking around with bits of deeper conversations weaving in and out. There were so many people out. Each of these friends is doing a lot of great work and I can’t even put into words how much I appreciate all of us being able to come together, share and enjoy our time. We walked over to get some kulfi faluda and ras malai afterwards. The friends from the other side of town left after that, and Imran, Kristeen and I walked over to Hafiz Juice Corner to watch the celebration along Mall Road. Lahore is a city that loves to go out and have delicious food. There were people everywhere, enjoying time out with their families, hanging out car windows or on motorcycles, waving the Pakistani flag and just having a good time. We had some juice, laughed with some funny children and then head back to our homes.

Eat...brain..eat...brain

We went to Mughalpura to visit relatives and ate lots of food. No, I am not related to this one.

A history of puppetry?

After a good deal of rest, we head over to NCA. Hanan sahib and Naveed sahib helped us clean our computers with a small blower. It was like a mini version of a leaf blower. To think that it took so much effort to get to this point. Partly because I was looking for the disposable kind, only to learn that that does not exist here and then it took me a while to learn what was used instead in Pakistan.With that information, a simple call and the kind folks in the multimedia department at NCA graciously helped us out. I felt like the computer is a bit better, but it is still heating up a bit on one side. I really need this machine to work through the end of shooting this film at least.It was nice to go to NCA. There were a few students around for evening classes. Security as always was notched up even higher than my previous visit and it makes me sad to see how much it has had to increase over the years.There was even a check waiting for me from my time teaching a few months ago. I needed to get the check opened in order to cash it. I went to several offices, only to be turned away. It is amazing how little some folks at these government jobs care about their work. I dress very simply so they really look at me like shit. Every little step of the way here can often be a dehumanizing process, and I think that is equally true for these office workers who then continue that vicious cycle. You need to go through someone that cares enough to try and help you get what you need done. These same people that gave me a hard time, would probably fall over themselves to cater to their personal guests.For me, when I walked into the second office I was sent to, with the paperwork required from the accounts office and asked about opening the check, the guy just looked at me. Then another guy comes into the office, grabs me by the elbow to turn me around then looks me up and down with this look of disgust, which is probably his default expression. These are the day to day steps it takes to accomplish the most minimal of things. I speak in Urdu, I dress simply. I can only imagine how much worse it is for others. To me, this is the rot at the core here. There are so many external and internal issues going on here, but at the most basic human level, the ability or willingness to do your job with a reasonable amount of care and to speak to people as human beings regardless of their perceived value to you is severely lacking in so many places.Each person asked why I was given a check, and I explained that I taught there. Then they kept repeating that I should open an account here. I explained that not being local, I could not and they past me down the line. Eventually I came back to Hanan sahib and he kindly took the paperwork and agreed to take care of it as the office workers had sent me back.In the evening, Kristeen cooked our first meal here. We picked up a bunch of vegetables, spices and fruit and a had a nice meal at home. Even making breakfast in the morning was a nice change from grabbing things outside. I relaxed and read the book on Rajasthani puppetry that she picked up for me in Delhi. It is quite fascinating to see how people have tried to piece together the history of this art form. I can only imagine how difficult it was to find anything that could be called an actual fact. Oral traditions are strong, but historical accuracy is not. Certainly not in the case of the puppeteers I met in Multan.The stories do have some common elements that leads one to believe there may be some facts amid all the legends. It seems that this form of puppetry can be traced back to the time of the Mughal Emperor Akbar. There are stories of Muslim and Hindu puppeteers. The court puppeteers were Muslim and they made their puppets from papier mache. They complained about a Bhat puppeteer who had not learned the art from any master and still dared to be a puppeteer for the general public. This fits in with the idea that specific tasks are delegated to particular groups of people and handed down through the generations.The Bhat puppeteer was called to the court, but gained the Emperor’s favor when he recited the Emperor’s geneology in poetic verse. A contest was arranged, and a puppet from the court and one from the Bhat puppeteer was suspended in a well for some time. The paper mache puppet from the court disintegrated, while the Bhat’s wooden puppet emerged more beautiful from being immersed in water.It’s a fun story, and there are bits that indicate other aspects to it as well. For example, the book mentions that puppeteers continued to pay tribute to the descendants of a Muslim family of someone who had taught them this art. This wasn’t something imposed on them, but out of respect and gratitude for sharing what was a sacred art. The way that puppeteers look at their puppets and art is with great reverence. This was true in Multan as well. Modern commercial needs have eroded away this sentiment, but I think it remains, however diminished.All examples of stories told through this puppetry seem to be about the same as what I recorded in Multan. A king’s court opens. Dignified guests enter and a multitude of trick puppets are announced and perform one by one, with short comedic skits. Sometimes the king is Akbar, or Shah Jehan or the same story revolves around Amar Singh Rathore. There were some puppets mentioned that I have not seen, but in terms of detailed storytelling, there did not seem to be any hard evidence to suggest that it was a part of past performances. People mentioned that it was, but could not be verified. People say a lot of things.

Lok Virsa and PNAC in Islamabad

Painting of my friend Jairam Jogi

Sadquein

We got up way too early and head to the train station. It was fun to watch the variety of people around us as we waited for our friend Sana, her sister and neighbor to arrive. They got there and we hopped on the train.It’s always pretty crazy sitting in the aisles as people squeeze past with luggage to try and figure out where they are seated. Bags and children are lifted through the windows by relatives seeing people off. You can’t get too bothered by every handbag and arm that bumps your head as people squeeze past. Once the train started, the aisles were still filled with people, but these were folks who did not have a specific seat and I think bought an open ticket. Such are the mass transport needs here that everything is packed. We were so fortunate and grateful that our friends had booked seats.Watching the landscape unfold was fun. Children wave and people in general stop to look as the train passes. You see old buildings, tents, piles of trash, long lines of traffic waiting to cross, and cleaner areas away from the cities, where large fields of crops become beautiful river landscapes with grassy hills and rocks. It was a long ride. Sana and her sister kept coming over with delicious food and tea that they had prepared with their relatives at home. We switched seats so we could chat with each other.All three of these friends are truly inspiring. Sana works with some of the most depressed communities. She manages a project that teaches women to make their own soap and shampoo with ingredients that they can afford, as well as how to make a safe stove. Her work is very hands on and these were some of the current projects she shared with us. The challenges I face when trying to work on my own projects here are but a drop in the bucket compared to those faced by people like Sana and her sister who in the face of virtually no hope at all, spend their days making a difference in the lives of people who have been all but forgotten by society. Generations have stayed in the same situation they started in and independence from the British and a succession of corrupt governments in Pakistan have done nothing to provide for the basic needs of any of these people. Most of them relegated to sanitation work which is a vital part of any society but is not given the respect it deserves.So many issues seem to revolve around those who can, within a community not extending their privilege to those who are less fortunate. Most people that I see on the ground doing work are not the ones who can do so with relative financial ease. Educating children and hoping to pull through even a few kids out of a cycle of poverty is a lifelong battle that people like Sana’s sister are doing, not because they are going to become rich or that they are convince that everything will suddenly change, but because despite the challenges of working with people, they know it is worth it to help one person.In my own way, as an artist, I try to create my projects in a fashion that can provide support for my fellow artists and culture. We seem to do this at the sacrifice of our financial futures as we don’t have the kind of safety nets society tells you that you must have. I think it is natural to question your own sanity when you look at it that way, along with just how difficult working with everyone can be. Yet when I don’t have to take a sweaty, bumpy bus ride crammed with weary bodies, and get to sit in a nice air conditioned car and eat a nice meal wherever you please or fly to a different country, it reminds me that things are far too imbalanced. Every one of these struggles to make things a bit better, even for one person is worth it then, because to do nothing is not an option. I have to remind myself of this each time I want to quit.It took about 5 hours to get to Islamabad. Most people got off at Rawalpindi, one stop earlier. The Pindi stop was a bit longer. Sana’s neighbor who is deeply obsessed and knowledgable of trains told us about how they were changing the engine. So we got off on the platform in Pindi and walked around. I saw the National Book store in front of us, so naturally I ran over there. They did not have any translations of books from KPK or Balochistan. There is an entire half of the country not represented in any of these books stores outside their own province. Representation of Sindh are limited in Punjab’s book stores but there is still a little bit. Part of my interest in doing work based on different provinces and languages of Pakistan is to create films that can in a sense connect people to one another, for I feel that is sorely lacking.We hopped back on the train and rode the rest of the way to the small Islamabad station. After haggling with taxi drivers, Kristeen and I went to find the Pakistan National Arts Council while the rest went to take care of some visa work that was the purpose of the trip we had tagged along on.Information is such a problem. I looked up the addresses to each of the spots I wanted to visit before coming. I told the taxi driver this, but they had decided that it was in a different sector. Not knowing the area, I said fine. We drove through the first area and did not find it. Then we drove to the area I had mentioned, and found it after several security check points. The misdirection was not out of any kind of greed to make more money. The taxi was at an agreed upon rate and not on a meter. It is just tough to get reliable information here.The PNAC museum building was beautiful. I am amazed at the kinds of institutions that can be put together with government support. Islamabad seems to have no rickshaws and taxis are only in certain spots. Public transportation is tough. Kristeen and I checked out the galleries. The paintings were beautiful, featuring a handful of well known Pakistani artists for the most part. We were almost done walking through the painting galleries, when a worker there came up to us and asked us to go back out to the lobby as they were on lunch for 15 more minutes.It was nice that he was so on top of things that he had not noticed anyone was there until just then. So, we walked up to a photo gallery upstairs about a project in Badin, Sindh where an organization was helping to provide clean water pumps, hygiene and nutrition to some of the most disadvantaged people. It was not really a photography exhibit though. It was clearly not about the people either. It seemed to be purely about showing that donor money had been spent on helping at least 2 families in Badin.After looking at the photos, I asked about puppetry as the PNAC apparently has puppetry shows. The Lok Virsa, who deal with the culture of Pakistan had no interest in puppetry when I called them, and had referred me to PNAC as the organization to talk to about that. I could not find a working number for them at the time, so gave that up. Since I was here, I figured I should talk to them. One of the museum employees took us though several corridors of offices to introduce us to the people in charge of performing arts at PNAC.I talked to them for a bit. I asked them about the puppetry programs at PNAC. They did not seem to know what the schedule was, so after a bunch of digging around they told me there was supposed to be a program that day, but there was not for some reason. That was as satisfying an answer as I have become accustomed to. I had seen a few photos of their puppet performances. The puppets look fun. They are not traditional marionettes like the puppeteers in Multan use. Instead they are rod puppets, with rods on the arms, manipulated from below. The posters showed large audience around the country, and if you looked very closely, you could see a bit of the puppets on stage. From that, I basically said “So, you have rod puppets here, not the traditional marionettes.” They said yes. They had no knowledge of the puppeteers I spoke of.I gave them the web link to the directory I created for the Multan puppeteers and encouraged them to support them and bring them over. I told them what state they were in. I don’t think they are going to call them. I remember the Lok Virsa folks had asked me to come for free to perform puppetry at their festival as they had no funds. I explained that I am not a puppeteer, but the ones in Multan would be excellent for this. They did need to be paid however and that Lok Virsa should send someone out to see how they live in tents, filled with sewage brought in from the rains. Nothing came of that either.After that, we looked at the last bit of the paintings gallery. We were told that photography was not allowed by the lunch guy after seeing no signs and of course photographing lots of work in the gallery. The facility is great and to see some of these pieces was incredible, but as with my experiences in Sindh, even this organization was no different. There is so much squandered potential. How can people collect a salary and put so much effort into doing nothing? Judging from the schedule there are music, dance and puppetry performances that take place there, so there is something, but once again I felt sad and disappointed at the state of things.We stepped out and since the taxi was not allowed to stay in the secure, hard to get to area where this public arts institution was located, we had to find another means of transport. We walked around until we found some buses. We hopped on a little van that would get us to the area where the Lok Virsa museum was located.After a very long and bumpy ride, where we watched a young kid learning the ropes of being a conductor, we were dropped at another bus stop. We walked up a long road in the middle of a beautiful forest, where clearly no one walked. It took us a while, but eventually, we got to the museum only to learn along with everyone else that was visiting, that though the offices were open, the museum was not.There were some stalls around with artists working, so we visited them. Dejected, we made our way outside. By this point, several people had insisted to us that there was no Islamabad station, though that is where we had arrived and that the only way to get back was to go to the Rawalpindi station, and we would need some time for that. Our poor friends were dealing with visa stuff. They had their visa, but the date stamped was wrong.I convinced a taxi driver who was dropping and staying for a family to at least take us to the main road. We got there and got a cab. Both drivers had insisted that there was no Islamabad station and Pindi was it. I asked the driver how much, and he said I trust you, you tell me. So I told him and he agreed. We drove a long way for less than I paid to get from the Islamabad station to the PNAC. He pointed out a few buildings along the way and told us about them.We got to the Pindi station and waited. It turned out, our friends were able to get to the non existent Islamabad station. They boarded there and were on their way to the Pindi station where they would get us aboard the right car. This time we were in a berth. They had spent the day waiting for the Visa, only to get it with the wrong date stamped. We had gone to Lok Virsa only to find the museum closed though the facebook page said it should be open, and then due to the “non-existence” of the Islamabad station, we skipped going to Faisal Mosque. This is all pretty typical.The ride back was exhausting. We were all tired and the ride was never ending. We shared snacks and dozed off as much as possible to pass the time. The best part of the trip was these wonderful friends. I don’t think I would go back to Islamabad. I’ve had enough disappointment with these arts organizations. I find more support and inspiration through good friends and their networks of people who genuinely care.Exhausted, we grabbed a couple of rickshaws and head our separate ways.

Church and the Old City

It was Sunday, so we met with a friend of Kristeen’s named Sana and joined her at a beautiful cathedral. Due to all the very serious security problems faced by everyone in the country and in particular any minority group, it is not so easy to walk into different places of worship. These places offer a glimpse into the diversity of Pakistan. So we went to a church service. The building is beautiful.I’ve spent some time with the minority communities here in the past and I see parallels in their situation to some of the issues faced by communities in other parts of the world. This community has it particularly difficult in Pakistan today. Everyone is at risk of becoming a victim in the ongoing violence, but these communities in particular have been singled out all too many times. Yet they are just as important a piece within Pakistan as all the rest.I thought about this as I sat in the pew and appreciated the service. Afterwards, we looked around at the cathedral a bit before heading to Pak Tea House for some snacks. From there we walked through Anarkali, then caught a rickshaw to Delhi Gate with Sana. I had wanted to see the renovated portions of the walled city for a while, but had waited until Kristeen came to Lahore. We walked through the gate and on to Masjid Wazir Khan, through long winding lanes beyond the renovated sections, until we eventually found our way to Naunihal Singh’s Haveli. With some help, we were allowed to take a look around at Raja Ranjit Singh’s grandson’s former home, which was converted to a school during British times and continues to be one today.

Lahore Social

We took a bit of rest, then met with some of my high school friends on the fancier side of town at a place called the Lahore Social. It is easy enough to get there on the metro, but getting back when it is late is more challenging. Thanks to Adeel and Ijaz for goinhg out of their way to get us back. It's interesting meeting with old friends. It can be like a window into the past. 

Hafeez center and Panj Vera

So Hafeez Center was the place. First Hall road was the place, then Nisbat road and now Hafeez Center. Okay, I thought. What choice do I have but to try? We took the Lahore Metro, which is a raised bus system that blights the city, but provides a much easier, if severely packed way to get to some further parts of town.The women’s section is in the front and the men’s is the rest of the bus. So, Kristeen and I separated there. You have to push your way in. I don’t really push people, but rather maneuver my way into the cracks and make them grow just a little. The day before was really frustrating and being packed on a bus, dripping with sweat is no fun either. Yet, I managed to stay polite with everyone, because really we were all suffering together. I did not want to let my own discomfort make me forget it. People are pretty miserable and agitated on the bus. There is a good deal of pushing to get out and people do get angry at each other. One guy behind me kept talking to his friend about someone not standing on his own weight and leaning on him. He was facing the other way. Then he shoved me a bit. So I turned around and told him I did not realize he was referring to me. I was not leaning on him in any way, but really, this hell hole was no place to try and argue a point. I spoke to him politely and told him that he should have just tapped me on the shoulder and spoken to me so that I would know. The metro bus is packed and runs very frequently, but the public transportation needs of this city are great. Everyone is miserable and uncomfortable with good reason. Yet at the same time, this bus is clearly a vitally important need.Anyway, that was fun. We rode on for a while and eventually got off the bus at the closest stop to our destination and took a rickshaw to Hafeez Center. We walked around and no one had the compressed air cans we were looking for to clean our computers. My laptop was heating up and I hoped that cleaning the dust of Jamshoro out of it might help. At Hafeez Center, we learned that those cans are not available in Pakistan. People use an air blower to clean computers.Well, that was a lot of effort for nothing, once again. How do I learn to ask the right questions, and reduce leg work to get to my goal faster with less pain? I think about this a lot, and hope I can get better at it.So, we hopped on a rickshaw and ate some delicious food at Bundu Khan’s then walked around Liberty Market. My friend Imran was meeting some friends nearby at night. He suggested I visit one of the contacts he sent me as he was not far and then I could join them. The contact was Sohail Azad who runs Check Post, a post production house that specializes in color timing for films. It is an exciting time as the film industry in Pakistan is making a comeback. There are many films being released and an audience eager to watch them. I have not been directly connected to this scene and I was very happy to get a chance to visit.We found the office then head upstairs. It just made me happy to see a beautiful office space with artists working on interesting projects. Sohail sahib greeted us, one of the artists gave us some water and we sat down with a documentary filmmaker who works on films about the endangered wildlife of Pakistan. He showed us some incredible footage from a project he worked on featuring leopards and their habitat.My friend Yaser dropped by and we sat with Sohail and discussed what they are up to and what I am trying to do. I really appreciated the possibilities that we discussed. Perhaps, as Imran had also suggested, I could bring the puppeteers here and work from Lahore. We discussed possible resources and logistics. I got to learn about some other projects that people are working on in Lahore. There are many challenges, but to see people make their films is always inspiring.From there, Yaser dropped Kristeen and I off at Panj Vera, a fun eating spot down the road where we met with Imran and a whole new group of friends. Imran made Kristeen feel right at home immediately with his humor. It felt really good to connect to such a good group of people. Zahid drove all of us transportationaly challenged folks back across town afterwards.

Hall rd and Nisbat rd

Today was the day to track down a place where I could get my music recordings from Sindh digitized form miniDV (obsolete format) so that I could begin working on it in the computer. Hall road is packed with cel phone shops and some other electronics. After much asking around, several people suggested trying there. We made our way to the building that had been suggested.I asked a shopkeeper and he sent a guy to go ask a source that he knew. The shops are a mess. I had also been warned that these places could easily lose or ruin my tapes. I really could not afford to lose them. That would signal the end of this project. Perhaps it would save me further trouble in that regards, but I really did not have any other choices. So I brought one of the tapes I had already digitized in Sindh, so that if something bad happened, it would be all right as a test.It is hard to walk around there, and I felt bad for Kristeen, but she is a trooper and as long as I made sure to get her something yummy to eat, all would be forgiven. Each shopkeeper sent us to another and so we walked all over, back and forth down hall road. Finally people suggested that camera shops are on Nisbat rd and we should try there. We were already quite tired from the heat, the misinformation and the unnecessary difficulty in getting correct information.So we hopped on a rickshaw at the end of Hall rd and went to Nisbat rd. The place was full of camera shops and it seemed that this might be a better bet. There were lots of nice shops with all kinds of professional gear. Those in particular were the ones that were jerks. So it was that we went back and forth, crossing through murderous traffic, following every wrong lead that people had to offer. There was one shop where a kindly older man had a little handicam and he agreed to digitize the tape for me. Unfortunately, he could only output a highly compressed (as in crappy quality) file. The only other options on both roads were random folks saying that they could do it, as in someone they knew in a back alley might be able to do it, even though they had no idea what I was talking about when they looked at the tape. This man had a very dusty shop with camera lenses and some computers in the back with their guts exposed. However, he did have a camera, so I gave him the tape and he said come back in an hour.We grabbed a pizza, then walked around a bit more. That bought me some more time to put Kristeen through the discomfort of existing in that place. We got the recording as a file on a usb hard drive I took with me and then began walking back, searching for a compressed air can to clean out our computers. Again, we were lead all over, back to Hall rd, all the way through to every place that did not have it or know what it was. Some people mentioned a machine that was used for this and also said to go to Hafeez Center, a technology building across town. I was asking one shopkeeper and he suggested stores behind his building. I mentioned how we had been back there and was trying to make sure he was not referring to the same place. His friend got annoyed and lectured me on how I was not letting him answer. There was no point in arguing. I was already defeated before we started on this fool’s errand.So, we went to Chaman ice cream, had another amazing khoya khajoor ice cream and then went home with our tails between our legs.

Kurri Jam Gai!

Raja Ranjit Singh’s samadhi with Badshahi mosque behind

Guru Arjun Dev Gurdwara

samadhi

Badshahi mosque

Lahore fort

Lahore fort

shish mahal in fort

outside view of fort

Kristeen’s favorite

I thought I would show Kristeen around Lahore so that we could fulfill that famous saying for her, “Jinai Lahore nai waikhia, o jamia ee nahi (whomsoever has not seen the city of Lahore, has not been born).” So, for Kristeen to be born, she needed to see some interesting places here. We went to the Lahore Fort.We took a rickshaw to Kashmiri gate (part of the walled city of Lahore). We walked around a bit and grabbed some tea. Somehow I have only spent time on the south side of the walled city and not the northern side, so I thought it would be fun to explore a bit of that too. There were lots of women’s clothing or cloth shops around there. We walked around and picked up a khamiri roti and some chai from the chai stall next door. The area is messy, with winding narrow lanes, dilapidated buildings and in some spots piles of trash. Despite that, I love it more than any other place.While the heat can be exhausting and finding your way and dodging motorcycles, rickshaws and donkey carts can be tough, there is something about the people. Not to romanticize too much, I mean there are all sorts of characters in the walled city, but I enjoy being able to walk up to a shop and ask questions and have bits of conversations along the way. Tea stalls and food spots are very male dominated as is so much of everywhere around us. The tea stall people picked up a bench and took it up a small flight of stairs to a nice spot perched above the street across from them for us to sit. We ate our delicious fresh bread followed by tea that they brought up for us.We watched people pass by and they watched us too. I’ve lost what anonymity I might have had before, and I am even more conscious of the challenges and male dominance of the places we go to, but I don’t want that to affect our ability to explore. With some basic precautions, it does not have to. There are certainly women walking about in the old city was well, but you can’t hide being an outsider. People stare all over the place, but in the walled city, they also tend to be nicer when you are walking around. If you are polite, they are generally more polite, or at least within each group I’m likely to find someone who is.After some tea, we walked the rest of the way to the Lahore Fort. I had never seen that side of the fort, so it was fun to see all the windows from the outside. We came to the main entrance. Things have changed. Cars no longer drive up to the main gate. They stop a ways from it and people walk the rest of the way. The first spot we came upon was the entrance Guru Arjun Dev’s Gurdwara and Raja Ranjit Singh’s Samadhi. The places of minority communities have controlled access due to very real security concerns. Every place has a lot more security as the country has been at war with itself for so long, caught between its own turmoil exasperated by external conflicts it has been forced into.So, after a bit of back and forth, we went in and sat in the Gurdwara for a bit, then looked at the samadhi. It is interesting that the samadhi is so ornate and huge, while the Gurdwara is so very simple. Kings really love themselves.Next we walked to the fort. There are bits that have been restored beautifully and hope for more of that to continue. It is massive. After much exploring, we head to Badshahi mosque and enjoyed the wonderful architecture there. I’ve seen these places many times in the last ten years, but it was really fun to share it with Kristeen.Afterwards we head to Hall road to follow up on leads for DV tape digitizing which I needed for my puppet film. Everything was closed due to a strike in response to a new government tax to be imposed on all financial transactions. So, we had some ice cream at Chaman and I think that was Kristeen’s favorite thing we did. We had khoya khajoor which was amazing. After a lot more walking around Mall road, we found our way to some food spots in Anarkali. I think it was safe to say that Kristeen had been born.

Puppets! I mean wife arrives!

My wife Kristeen was arriving. I picked up a few things for the room, then ate breakfast. Our friend Parmod ji was so kind to take the early morning train with her from Chandigarh to Amritsar. From there his wife Pooja ji’s brother Aditya would arrange to take her the rest of the way to the border. I remember that journey myself from five years ago. Aditya had taken me the rest of the way to the border as well and it really eased my mind.Parmod ji called me once they arrived at Amritsar. I hopped on a rickshaw and made my way to Laria Adda, the big bus stand on this side of town. From there I found a small bus or wagon that was going to the Wagha border. I squeezed in and waited for it to fill up. Eventually we were on our way.It turned out I was the only one going to the border. About 9 km from the border, the wagon dropped us all off. From there I had to take Qing Chi the rest of the way. Another bumpy ride, and I was there. It looked completely different than five years ago. You could not actually go all the way to the border. I walked to the checkpoint and gave my name and my wife’s. They told me to go wait by a roadside dhaba. I got a juice, but did not see any taxis, so I asked around. I was introduced to one guy who had a car. He called in to see if Kristeen had arrived.She had, and we walked over to his car, went through to a little post and after six months, there she was sitting under a little canopy with a few other people who had come across and security folks. It felt surreal to see her, not on a pixelated computer screen, but just sitting there. I got out and we got her things from the porters into the car and we both sat down. After all we’ve been through, working on our projects, it was hard to believe we were finally sitting next to each other in the same car.The drive along the canal was nice as we head back from the border. Eventually, we got back to the hostel and dropped things off. I offered to grab some food, but being the adventurous food loving woman she is, Kristeen came with. We got some delicious aloo (potato) stuffed nans and daal (lentils).Kristeen took a nap, and I dug through her suitcases and pulled out piles of puppets. They were even more beautiful in person than in the photos. Now I have to figure out this part of the project. It’s all a bit overwhelming.

Preparing

Preparing to get my wife. I picked up some things at the general store to make sure the hostel room would have all that I could think of that she would need. It had been six months since we had seen each other, besides skype now and then, all because of this one border. This one border that will stay impassible to most, so long as people profit from arms and enmity.