Tag: Independence Day

Beyond the Headlines – Pakistan Zindabad

Published on by Marilyn37 Comments

“It seems that violence is the only lens through which ordinary people in Pakistan are viewed in the media. Even if it’s a story about a Pakistani rock band, it will be set in the context of a violent society. There’s nothing false about the perspective. Pakistan has a problem with violence. Violence is used to silence journalists, and judges, and moderate religious scholars. And it seems to be getting worse. Every time I see somebody on television speaking out in anger against extremism or corruption—I’ll say a prayer for them. And every time one of those people is murdered, those of us who aspire to be like them grow a little more afraid.

So it’s not that the reports of violence are false. But they are only a small part of the truth. There’s so much other life being lived here.

But there’s only so much space in international newspapers. And there’s so much news in the world. So only the most jarring stories make the cut.”* 

When I was growing up and we would return to the United States for year-long furloughs, not many had heard of Pakistan. At the time Pakistan was a relatively new country, having recently gained independence from British controlled India to be a separate Muslim state.

Fast forward to today and it is rare to have a day go by without some news of Pakistan – and it’s rarely good news. While Malala Yousafzai made headlines for her courage in the face of persecution and terror, most headlines speak to danger and despair.

I belong to a peculiar tribe of people. Like any tribe we don’t all like each other and we don’t all get along. But certain things set us apart. We all grew up in Pakistan. We all fight against the stereotypes that dominate the news of Pakistan in the west. And it’s safe to say that most of us love Pakistan. We love what it gave us, we love what we became because of it, we love that it continues to struggle and shows an uncommon resilience despite terrorist and drone attacks, corrupt politics, and floods. We love the people and the place. 

Today, August 14, is Pakistan’s Independence Day and with it comes a desire to show readers something beyond the headlines of newspapers.

Because Pakistan is far more than what you see on television or read online or in print. Pakistan is pristine, untouched beaches and some of the tallest mountains in the world; it is many ethnic groups and a resilient people; it is ancient ruins of the Indus Valley (one of the oldest known civilizations) and hospitality to strangers.

So today I hope for Pakistan, I pray for Pakistan, for peace, truth, and rest. And along with those prayers I offer you glimpses of this beautiful country.

Pakistan Zindabad! Long Live Pakistan!

Blogger’s Note: These beautiful, National Geographic quality pictures were taken by Dan Mitchell, son of one of my high school friends, Jon Mitchell. Many thanks to him for permission to publish them on Communicating Across Boundaries.

Watching mountain goats A lot of stories in this face Beautiful people Father and son Gulmit Gulmit, Northern Areas Making naan Northern Pakistan Northern Pakistan - Alexander the Great lives on! Over 30 people on this car Rakaposhi Reflection Signs in Chinese and Urdu Vegetable stall view from Eagles nest Hotel

*comment on Humans of New York Facebook page. 

Purchase Passages Through Pakistan here – all proceeds go toward refugees in the Middle East.

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Celebrating Pakistan – Pakistan Zindabad

Published on by Marilyn11 Comments

Today is the 65th Anniversary of Pakistan’s Independence Day, the day in 1947 that marked Pakistan’s entry into the world as an independent nation, separate from India and the British Raj.

Growing up the holiday was marked for us with a day off from school and a festive atmosphere. While today I sit in an office building that has little clue this holiday exists, the day is forever in my memory. With the emigration of many Pakistanis the holiday has expanded world-wide as people gather in places around the globe to celebrate their country, to hope for their country.

It’s hard to know where to begin when it comes to Pakistan. Certainly it has a troubled history when it comes to leadership and, as in any place, it is crucial to separate people from politics. Pakistan is 95% Muslim with a population of over 190 million people. The literacy rate, defined as those over 15 who can read and write, is about 54 percent but drops to 40 percent when looking at women alone.

Pakistan’s median age is 22 years and 95 percent of the country is under 64 years of age. The “school life expectancy rate” (referring to the number of years the average person goes to school in the country) is 7 years.

Events like the flood in 2010, the capture of Osama Bin Laden, and frequent news alerts on and from the country can paint a bleak and depressing picture; a tattered photo of a country assaulted by everything from poverty to terrorism.

But it’s been through my personal experience, speaking to others who know Pakistan well, and through the blogging world that I feel privileged to see an image that goes beyond statistics and lets you feel more of the heart beat of this country.

The recent reunion I attended in Illinois brought together over 150 of us, connected to Pakistan in some way. Through conversations and speakers the picture painted of Pakistan was hopeful. It was a joy to be with people who love and care for Pakistan; those who know God is present and at work in the country.

In honor of the day and the country I have included a slide show “Faces of Pakistan”. As our media assaults us with stories and images that promote fear, it is ever important to remember that countries are made up of people, and people are created in the image of God.

Blogger’s note: One of my favorite bloggers from Pakistan is Zainab Khawaja, a student at NUST (National University of Sciences and Technology), a multi-campus university in Pakistan. Zainab takes her readers from Pakistan to pop culture and everything in between. Another favorite blogger, Khaula Mazhar has written some hilarious essays that can be found on both her blog and in Dawn Magazine. http://khaulamazhar.wordpress.com/. My favorite is called Immigrating Granny. 

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Re-Post: Memories of an Expatriate 4th of July

Published on by Marilyn2 Comments

At 52 years old, I have spent more fourth of July holidays overseas, celebrating with other expatriates and a grudging realization that I like the holiday, than in the US. Today’s post is a re-post from last year when many of you were not CAB readers. Enjoy!

In capitals like Islamabad and Cairo, the celebrations were a highlight of our year. Free food and entertainment combined with celebratory fireworks and raffle prizes enjoyed by all passport holders. Our children loved the chance to meet with friends and eat the uniquely American fare of hamburgers and hotdogs coupled with canned soda and topped off by ice cream cups.

In Islamabad the parties were held at the large compound that housed the American club and pool. As life has become increasingly more precarious for Americans living in Pakistan, I have no doubt the celebrations are far more low-key if at all. Cairo’s venue was Cairo American College, the large international school compound and hundreds came to these events.

One of my best memories came in the summer of 1992. We had received news of the death of my maternal grandmother only days before the 4th of July. She was my only living grandparent and a compassionate soul who deeply loved all of her grandchildren. My mom and dad had left Pakistan after making it their home for 35 years in December of 1988 to be closer to her, knowing that her earthly body was declining and longing to be near her during the remaining time she had left.

On news of her death I experienced a deep longing for family. The longing hung over me like the dust hangs over Cairo-heavy and impossible to remove. Coupled with that I had given birth to my fourth child, a baby girl, just six month before. The only relatives who had met this personality-filled baby were my sister-in-law Terry and my niece, Christi-Lynn. With a tiny, still breast-feeding baby in my arms and three other small children, I wanted the comfort of blood relatives but knew that the trip was financially impossible.

It was during this time that we packed up our young family and set off by foot to the large 4th of July party. There my sadness was in temporary reprieve as our kids got their faces painted, ate hotdogs until they were sick and played with friends.

There was also a raffle. Companies like Coca-Cola, Pepsi, and Swiss Air had donated large prizes like nights in hotels, and free airline tickets to the lucky ticket holders.

At the time my husband was taking a summer Arabic course at the American University in Cairo. He had befriended other classmates, some American, who had come to our home to escape the inevitable culture shock that had overtaken them. He told them about the “Free party on the 4th!” and as a result a couple of them had come. They were on their way back to “real Cairo” when they saw Cliff and asked him if he wanted their raffle tickets. Realizing that he would lose nothing, he took them and so we had in our possession 8 tickets.

You know the rest of the story before I put it down – Yes, we won. Not one prize but two. The first was a breakfast at the Marriott Hotel in Zamalek, renowned for its amazing morning spread. The second? A round-trip airline ticket, generously donated by Swiss Air from Cairo to my choice of anywhere in the continental United States.

To say I was over the moon does not adequately describe my excitement, or gratefulness. I felt in that time when I needed to know my heart was heard, God with great grace gave me a free pass. Like I was losing at a game of Life, only to land on a “Win a TV Game Show, Collect $100,000!” only this was real.

While other 4th of July celebrations have come my way, each holding their share of beautiful fireworks, fun foods, and a grudging recognition that it is one holiday where I proudly carry my U.S. passport, none will ever come close to that day when God met me at an expatriate celebration.

Blogger’s Note: Our 4th of July holidays have changed through the years. They now include a barbecue with friends, watching fireworks while sitting on the beach and a small town parade. For those of you who are from the U.S – Happy 4th! To the many other readers who are not – thanks for bearing with me and hearing about this holiday! I plan to give equal recognition through a blog post to Pakistan Independence Day on August 14!

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Memories of an Expatriate 4th of July

Published on by Marilyn9 Comments

It will be six more years before I have spent as many fourth of July’s in the United States as I have overseas.

In capitals like Islamabad and Cairo, the celebrations were a highlight of our year. Free food and entertainment combined with celebratory fireworks and raffle prizes were enjoyed by all passport holders. Our children loved the chance to meet with friends and eat the uniquely American fare of hamburgers and hotdogs coupled with canned soda and topped off by ice cream cups.

In Islamabad the parties were held at the large compound that housed the American club and pool. As life has become increasingly more precarious for Americans living in Pakistan, I have no doubt the celebrations are far more low-key if at all. Cairo’s venue was Cairo American College, the large international school compound and hundreds came to these events.

One of my best memories came in the summer of 1992. We had received news of the death of my maternal grandmother only days before the 4th of July. She was my only living grandparent and a compassionate soul who deeply loved all of her grandchildren. My mom and dad had left Pakistan after making it their home for 35 years  in December of 1988 to be closer to her, knowing that her earthly body was declining and longing to be near her during the remaining time she had left. On news of her death I experienced a deep longing for family. Coupled with that I had given birth to my fourth child, a baby girl,  just six month before. The only relatives who had met this personality-filled baby were my sister-in-law Terry and my niece, Christi-Lynn. With a tiny, still breast-feeding baby in my arms and three other small children, I wanted the comfort of blood relatives but knew that the trip was financially impossible.

It was during this time that we packed up our young family and set off by foot to the large 4th of July party. There my sadness was in temporary reprieve as our kids got their faces painted, ate hotdogs until they were sick and played with friends.

There was also a raffle. Companies like Coca-Cola, Pepsi, and Swiss Air had donated large prizes like nights in hotels, and free airline tickets to the lucky ticket holders.

At the time my husband was taking a summer Arabic course at the American University in Cairo. He had befriended other classmates, some American, who had come to our home to escape the inevitable culture shock that had overtaken them. He told them about the “Free party on the 4th!” and as a result a couple of them had come. They were on their way back to “real Cairo”  when they saw Cliff and asked him if he wanted their raffle tickets. Realizing that he would lose nothing, he took them and so we had in our possession 8 tickets.

You know the rest of the story before I put it down – Yes, we won. Not one prize but two. The first was a breakfast at the Marriot Hotel in Zamalek, renowned for its amazing morning spread. The second? A round-trip airline ticket, generously donated by Swiss Air from Cairo to my choice of anywhere in the continental United States.

To say I was over the moon does not adequately describe my excitement, or gratefulness. I felt in that time when I needed to know my heart was heard, God with great grace gave me a free pass. Like I was losing at a game of Life, only to land on a “Win a TV Game Show, Collect $100,000!” only this was real.

While other 4th of July celebrations have come my way, each holding their share of beautiful fireworks, fun foods, and a grudging recognition that it is one holiday where I proudly carry my U.S. passport, none will ever come close to that day when God met me at an expatriate celebration.

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