FINALLY, after an INTERMINABLY LONG trek across the ocean, we landed in Karachi where I would pick up a rental car and driver who would take me to the village where you were.
I was on pins and needles all during the process and the trip, but finally my driver slowed way down as we entered a small town and turning to me said that this was where we had been headed.
Nice town, set against the mountain backdrop as so many towns and cities are in this region. Lot of green and fairly nice buildings. A bit bigger than I had imagined but still small.
I had given Abdul, the driver, the address to Mustafa's parents house and he being familiar with the area went there straight-away. Nice house, biggest on the street, two story, and pleasant looking.
I walked up a sidewalk made of some kind of stone to the front door, a large oak-looking affair. and rang the bell. Nothing for a minute, and then Abdul knocked on the door. HARD. After a minute or so we heard footsteps and then slowly the door opened to reveal an older Pakistani woman who looked first at me and then at Abdul and then spoke to him. I assume she had decided I looked foreign (to her, which of course I was), probably didn't speak Urdu (which was also true), and so focused her attention on the one of us who looked like he did which was also true. LOL.
She and Abdul chatted or whatever briefly and then he turned to me and translated after a fashion.
"She says she is the neighbor from next door. The mister here is not doing good and the Mrs.is upstairs with him and can't come down. She says she knows we are here for Mustafa, but that they haven't seen him for a day or so, and don't know where he is."
He stopped, and I looked at her and as I did she saw I had been told what she said and with that, promptly shut the door again.
I was stunned. Now what?
Abdul could see I hadn't been expecting this and didn't know what to do, and he volunteered that there was a small (understatement) hotel in town where I could stay (meaning WE could stay. NOT a good idea to have a SO obviously American wandering the streets alone in an area where personal security was hardly a given even for the locals, let alone a foreigner.
I nodded at him, and we got back in the car and left.
The rest of that day is still kind of a blur. I was without question freaking out. Here I was already in an agitated state of mind, worried to my core to say the least. In a strange country, in a VERY strange town, where you should be but maybe weren't but if not here then WHERE?
My neck hairs were doing the fox trot on my neck. I was TERRIFIED for what I FELT was NOT GOOD. But I knew nothing. NOTHING, and there was nobody to tell me what had happened.
OR SO I THOUGHT.
I was on pins and needles all during the process and the trip, but finally my driver slowed way down as we entered a small town and turning to me said that this was where we had been headed.
Nice town, set against the mountain backdrop as so many towns and cities are in this region. Lot of green and fairly nice buildings. A bit bigger than I had imagined but still small.
I had given Abdul, the driver, the address to Mustafa's parents house and he being familiar with the area went there straight-away. Nice house, biggest on the street, two story, and pleasant looking.
I walked up a sidewalk made of some kind of stone to the front door, a large oak-looking affair. and rang the bell. Nothing for a minute, and then Abdul knocked on the door. HARD. After a minute or so we heard footsteps and then slowly the door opened to reveal an older Pakistani woman who looked first at me and then at Abdul and then spoke to him. I assume she had decided I looked foreign (to her, which of course I was), probably didn't speak Urdu (which was also true), and so focused her attention on the one of us who looked like he did which was also true. LOL.
She and Abdul chatted or whatever briefly and then he turned to me and translated after a fashion.
"She says she is the neighbor from next door. The mister here is not doing good and the Mrs.is upstairs with him and can't come down. She says she knows we are here for Mustafa, but that they haven't seen him for a day or so, and don't know where he is."
He stopped, and I looked at her and as I did she saw I had been told what she said and with that, promptly shut the door again.
I was stunned. Now what?
Abdul could see I hadn't been expecting this and didn't know what to do, and he volunteered that there was a small (understatement) hotel in town where I could stay (meaning WE could stay. NOT a good idea to have a SO obviously American wandering the streets alone in an area where personal security was hardly a given even for the locals, let alone a foreigner.
I nodded at him, and we got back in the car and left.
The rest of that day is still kind of a blur. I was without question freaking out. Here I was already in an agitated state of mind, worried to my core to say the least. In a strange country, in a VERY strange town, where you should be but maybe weren't but if not here then WHERE?
My neck hairs were doing the fox trot on my neck. I was TERRIFIED for what I FELT was NOT GOOD. But I knew nothing. NOTHING, and there was nobody to tell me what had happened.
OR SO I THOUGHT.
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