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I guess I must just be lucky. People tell me that this is the hottest summer they've
had for years, I get to be here to watch Pakistan break the World Cup Cricket record
for worst match ever played in a final and the news from Kashmir has not looked good
at all for a few weeks. On a much smaller scale I have finally discovered what Punjabi
wasp stings feel like. The week hasn't been all bad news however. We had a little
rain which brought the temperature down to a comfortable mid to high 30's. Bhalot
has begun its Tehsil level cricket tournament, winning its first match against the
visitors. I, unlike English people apparently, don't object to Australia winning the World Cup in cricket. I'm happy for Australia and apart from a mild dislike of Australian soap operas have never had a negative thought about Australia. BUT anyone who watched that match will know that no one should ever win a World Cup Final like that. Sorry Pakistan, I know Wasim Akram said the team needs its supporters most when it's down but that goes well beyond my ability to support. I watched the match in one of the zamindar's air conditioned bedrooms on a nice big colour telly and was preparing to enjoy myself with sodas and cakes and a good match (which says a lot since 6 weeks ago I didn't know what an over was or that a wicket could also be a caught ball). In the end I watched till the 7th over of Pakistan bowling and then decided I'd seen Pakistan humiliated enough for one day. The news from Kashmir has been alarming since the end of May. I don't know exactly what's going on there but I know that in the beginning there were only about 2 or 3 people who were willing to talk about it at all. Now it is a fairly common topic of conversation. Many people request international news via the internet. I checked out some Indian newspapers on line to see what they were saying and showed that to people here. I don't watch the news here anymore because it's not at a convenient time for me so I am not keeping up with what Pakistan Television is reporting but the international press and the Urdu papers (as reported to me by people who read them) paints a very bleak picture for the border areas of Kashmir. So far I have had no reason to think this would escalate to other areas of Pakistan however so have no plans for an immediate departure. A friend emailed me and told me I could get lots of extra points for doing field work in a war zone. I'll leave the points for others if it comes to that. I came to study landlords in action-- not refugees and bombing victims. I realise that a wasp sting should in no way be compared to what's happening in Kashmir but given the structure of these reports I allow myself to put things next to each other that are not of the same significance. The wasp sting itself was much less painful than I thought it would be. These wasps are huge nasty brown things that look like they could cause serious damage. In fact it was about the same as any wasp anywhere-- maybe I am lucky enough to be partially immune to wasp poison but it wasn't so bad. Mr. Rasheed, ever ready to help me out, squeezed the sting area to remove as much poison as possible and the rubbed his filthy, buffalo manured watch band on the sting. The metal is supposed to counteract the wasp poison. Whether it was natural immunity, a weak wasp or Mr. Rasheed's treatment I don't know but there was almost no swelling. So for those of you who find yourselves in a Punjabi village with hundreds of wasps just outside your door (like me) take heart that they are mostly pretty docile and when they do sting it isn't so bad. I take the wasp sting as payment for the rain. The temperature dropped 10 degrees and for three days life in the village was idyllic. I could walk around in the afternoon and sleeping at night was a pleasure. The only thing to interfere with this was my new refrigerator (a loan from the very thoughtful Malik Asif and Malik Wajjid--Thanks!) which unfortunately is a furnace. When the temperature was cool that was ok but once the temperature crept back up to it's abominable levels of 44+ I had to shut the fridge off. Malik Wajjid, being a very resourceful fellow, simply took it out of my room and gave me the key to keep it locked up. So now in spite of the heat returning with a vengeance I have my little fridge full of mango juice (the only juice available in the village at the moment) and mangos. For anyone who wonders where the Pakistan supporters learned to support their cricket team you only need to go to a village tournament. People were very polite to the visiting side and stayed off the grounds when they were bowling but as soon as the home team was bowling we all moved up and sat right on the edge of the boundary. Every wicket that Bhalot got the line of boys sitting on the school wall screamed and clapped and cheered the way you're supposed to. When my good friend Mr. Niazi caught the ball for the last out to win the game I hardly had time to start clapping before the ground was filled with boys running out onto the pitch. As I have said in previous updates I am not a sports fan and once I leave Pakistan I strongly suspect I'll never watch another cricket match for the rest of my life (except when I come back to visit Pakistan) but I must admit I have enjoyed watching cricket in the village and watching most of the World Cup has helped me to understand the game much better. As I am the Chief Guest of Honour for this cricket tournament I will be watching a lot more cricket over the next month. I don't intend to give blow by blow accounts of every match I watch so for those of you with no interest in cricket have no fear. I will probably bore you with it again when we get to the Final and I get to hand out awards and shake hands with the Man of the Match! |
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