At The Walking Park

Hello once again,

Well, I’ve made it through three whole weeks. Not too shabby. Not many bombings to speak of, and only the average amount of violent crime. Luckily I’ve seen none first hand. Although, I have met one guy who is adamant that we should stage my beheading on the internet. I have, so far, been able to hold him off.

Every week day, I go for a walk with Sophie’s father, Javed. He has recently retired, and Sophie feels that I am probably the greatest retirement present he has yet received. In any case, Javed invited me along for his walk on one of my first days here. I didn’t know at that time that I was signing up for the duration.

We drive to a nearby walking park, which is in the middle of my area of Karachi, known as Defence Society (A forbidding name, but a nice area, its name pertains to its former status as military holdings, before it was parcelled off and sold). To enter the gates and park a car at the park costs a marginal 15 Rupees (5 Rupees per person and 5 for the car), in total, this is the equivalent of about 30 cents. The park has two 1 km walking/running tracks. The outer one is for clock-wise walking and the inner for counter-clockwise. This is fortunate, since you can switch tracks halfway through and unwind yourself. (This relates to my theory as to why Nascar fans are too wound up)(Wow, I’m going wild with parenthetical statements today). In the centre of the tracks is a large open green space with play grounds, a place for roller-blading, and a small canteen/café.

I enjoy this daily foray for a number of reasons. It’s nice to get out during the day for one, and to get a little exercise. Since I don’t drive, or at least not yet, I’m usually inside for most of the daylight hours. Karachi isn’t the type of place where you would just up and walk around town. It’s safe enough, but one shouldn’t push it. So, most of my adventures are at night, when Sophie gets home from work. This isn’t such a bad thing, since the heat and I are not yet best friends. I also enjoy the walking park because there is a wide cross-section of people that I see there. Families bring their kids to play in the on the playground and on the lawns. And you never know who will be walking or jogging. Javed has pointed out many judges and politicians out for exercise amongst the regular folks. It reminds me of the Circus Maximus in Rome. It’s also interesting to see the variety of dress. It still gives me a chuckle to see people in traditional dress, long sweeping shirts over baggy comfortable pants, in any variety of colour and pattern, topping off their costume with Reeboks or Nike running shoes. But at least half the people there are dressed exactly as we would for a bit of exercise. One thing that has surprised me in general, is that the number of women wearing complete cover is very minimal. I would say perhaps 2% of women I have seen. This is partially because I have only really been around the middle and upper classes, but still, my stereotyped mind expected more women under cover than not.
At some point during our walk, the sun begins to set, which is my favourite part. The park is situated right beside one mosque, and there are two others within a few block’s radius. As soon as the sun sets, the call for prayers begins, and the loud-speakers mounted on the spires of the mosques begin to blare. All three mosques start at different times, as the time of sunset is subjective, and they each have distinctive sounds. I like to call them “The Three Tenors”, but one is more of a baritone at best. The first one has a high tenor voice, with what I like to think of as a little flair. The next to start is lower, and without as much warbling vibrato. The final one is ten feet off the track, so it is the loudest, and also the lowest, rumbling chant of them all. Together, the three voices mingle in my mind like some kind of Gregorian Chant. Which is a strange pell-mell mix of religious cultural images, I know. It gives me a very surreal feeling. The closest feeling I can remember would be when I was in Florence, Italy, at 6 PM on Sunday and suddenly all the bells began to peal throughout the city. I was blown away. Some might have asked for whom the bell tolled, and I tell you, that day, they tolled for Dave. So, it’s a similar sensation. As the call begins, a few people wander off the track to the side and perform their prayers, but not as many as you might think, in fact, they are in the minority. After the call ends, the sun just sets. I’m not yet used to this either. Being situated right on the Tropic of Cancer means that when the sun sets its not fooling around. No long extended twilight, no hour of dwindling Canadian light before dark. No hasty paddling in my canoe to get down the river before it gets dark. It just starts to get dark and five to ten minutes later it is dark.

Perhaps the strangest thing of all, is that after a week and a half of walking, I decided I would start running a lap. So now I usually run 1 KM and walk 4. And no, an attractive physically fit guy has not just bonked me on the head and taken over the keyboard, it is still Dave. And to all of you who might be thinking, Ha, 5 km, that’s nothing. I urge you to remember that by 6:00, the temperature has sometimes slid from 35 degrees down to 30. The humidity is usually hovering around 20%, and the wind, if there is one, which is nice, stirs up the ever present dust, and it hangs in the air like a smudge. Add to this the sometimes present smell of burning garbage, car exhaust and the rotting pollution of the sea on the breeze, and you might see how one lap running can usually do me in. Oh yes, and I am still horribly out of shape. Although, my Pakistani Weight Loss Program (Pak-Whelp) is progressing nicely. I tell you, I’ve tried a lot of diets, but this one is the best. All it entails is travelling half way around the world, sweating, losing your appetite, and spending an inordinate amount of time on the toilet.

Anyway, I have gone on too long, but have covered a lot of areas in my description of my little jaunts. I figure those that are interested will read it, those who aren’t… oh well.

Hope all is well with everyone,

David