An Englishman in Pakistan (part 4)

I decided to leave the Peshawar practise match early. It had begun to look the carbon copy of the previous warm-up game - Pakistani team bat first; England gain a healthy first innings lead and then try to bowl them out cheaply. I also wanted to explore further Pakistan's interesting North West Frontier Province (NWFP) that borders onto Afghanistan.

A trip to the legendary Khyber Pass was my first intended destination. I say intended, as I never actually made it to the border with Afghanistan as I was escorted out of the Pass by the Frontier Guards.

Tourists are meant to have a permit and an armed escort to make the trip. However, some Afghan refugee I met said it was no problem to just take the local bus. I therefore jumped on a bus crammed full of Afghans, chickens and bananas destined for Afghanistan. This was definitely more interesting than a taxi with a guide and an armed guard.

After making it through a number of checkpoints without a problem, the bus was pulled over for an inspection that is a regular occurrence on public transport in Pakistan. My presence was immediately noticed, but then that was hardly surprising considering the bus was full of huge Afghani men with great facial rugs and flowing turbans. I was asked politely to leave the bus for a chat and a cup of tea with some frontier guards.

My memories of the Khyber Pass will therefore be of a cramped bus journey; endless cups of tea with the Frontier Guards; an interrogation that consisted of questions like, "What is your Father's job? How do I get a visa for the UK?" and an escort back to the City of Peshawar.

The landscape of the North West Frontier Province gave the English language the word "khaki", derived from the word for "dust". It is indeed dusty with its endless rocky hills and dried up riverbeds. The monotony of the landscape is contrasted by the incredible variety of the people; from fierce looking men with dark complexions to very western looking children with blondish hair and blue eyes. However, this variety only comes in the male form, as you will never see a female face in these rural areas. The people of the NWFP interpret Islam in a very strict manner and if women do have to go out they cover their body and faces with the all-enveloping 'burqa'.

After the dry dusty NWFP, it was a fantastic sight to come across the river Indus. I spent a number of days in a small town perched by this great river that gave the Indian continent its name. I arrived at the weekend to find the town in a perpetual state of celebration. Everyone, it seemed, was getting married and as an object of great curiosity (no foreigners had spent a night there), I was invited to three of these weddings. They were, as everything is in Pakistan, very male affairs - not a women to be seen. From what I could tell a wedding in Pakistan involves a pre-wedding game of snooker, a lot of all male dancing and endless cups of tea.