Culture shock for us Europeans. Review on Karachi

Her nose dipped under the swell created by the cross tide, as the two waters met. I stood proudly alongside my fellow shipmates, watching, anticipating the spoils of Karachi, a jewel of Pakistan, or so we were led to believe!

The first thing that hit me as we sailed ever closer to the harbour, was the way the water changed from a crystal blue, to a murky brown. Almost as if you had walked through the wardrobe into Narnia, as the ice queen had frozen the land.

Then the smell, a musty aroma that grew in strength as we pulled alongside the old stone jetty. I threw the rope across to the dockside workers, which they caught and secured to a bollard fixed, for many years, to the side of the harbour wall.

Quickly I ran down the ladders and into the shower, washing off the oil and grease from securing the ships fore spring in a figure of eight motion, around the double bollards on the ships focsle. In the mess, morale was high. We had been at sea for 6 weeks and were looking forward to this run ashore.

We set off across the gangway to explore the sights of Karachi. As to be expected with most Asian ports, we first had to manoeuvre ourselves through the hoards of beggars and trinket salesman, towards the line of taxis that awaited our business with childish glee!

Our taxi driver proudly introduced himself, and produced a letter of recommendation from another Warship that had graced these shores only weeks earlier. “Take us to the sights” we chanted, as we were all young, impressionable and very excited.

Off we went, and within ten minutes we had arrived on the outskirts of the city centre. The heat was almost unbearable, so I wound down the window. “Please you not do that,” advised the taxi driver! “I’m bloody hot!” I replied, ignoring his advice.

This was to my own peril, as within seconds beggars flocked to the open window. The next scene I am about to describe is extremely horrific, so if you do not like to read anything nasty about small children, please skip down a bit.

A woman held a bay to the open window, asking for money. I politely refused, as there was so many I feared being mugged, as did my colleagues. The next thing that happened will stay in my mind for life!

The woman proceeded to throw the baby through the window onto my lap. I was in a bit of a panic by now and grabbed the baby. It was then I noticed the baby was dead, and not just recently. I was holding a badly composed baby in my hands. A sudden nausea came over me, and a fear of what was now claustrophobia. The crowd outside seemed to gather and mass in even more numbers. The taxi driver shouted to me to throw the baby back out the window, but I was frozen with fear, or maybe horror, it’s hard to say. I suddenly came to my sense, although still in a panic and pushed the baby out the window, back at the woman. Somehow I managed to get the baby back in her arms and the taxi sped off.

The taxi driver then explained that this is a common occurrence in Karachi, and then told us more tails of horror about the poverty and disease that was rife in this city.

As we pulled away from the scene, I tried to get it out my head but the sight was deeply embedded in my mind.

We turned a corner into a narrow street, full of old tradesman shops, stonemasons, tailors and cobblers aligned the roads, all working away on the pavement. I watched with amazement at the speed they carried out the tasks in hand, skilfully manoeuvring the needle or hammer, whatever their tradesman’s tool was, to create the end product.

As I left the taxi, to browse the shops and stalls, I hesitated and looked around to make sure that there were no beggars around. The taxi driver explained that they do not allow the beggars near the shops, as it is bad for business. I sighed a bit from relief, a bit from security and trundled off to the nearest shop.

This was a marble and onyx shop, where they hand carved chess sets, ashtrays and many other ornaments, to a superb quality. The prices were so cheap, but like in the Life of Brian, you were encouraged to haggle. I came away from their with 2 chess sets and an ash tray (I did not smoke at the time, but it was so cheap). The taxi driver waited very patiently for us, as he said he was paid commission for all our purchase, so there would be no waiting charge. He eventually stayed with us all day! bless him.

Next shop made leather jackets for £15 each, unbelievable! I purchased a couple of biker jackets, which lasted me for many a year.

Now there was not much more here, as most shops tended to be the same, so we drove to the market place.

This was an indoor shoppers paradise, row after row of bargains, antiques, clothes and bric-a-brac for as far as the eye could see.

I wandered around the stalls, politely refusing the offers of drinks, food etc form the wandering peddlers. I chanced upon a brass market stall, where I purchased a small tray with a brass wine jug and 4 jewelled goblets, which I still have to this day!

As I passed along the crowded aisles, my eyes glanced over to a stall full of wooden items, and immediately transfixed themselves on a hand carved wooden box, inlaid with brass in an intricate way, twisting and curling in the shape of flowers, or more like vines.

I opened it up to see it was transformed into a jewellery box, and thought of my mothers dressing table, and how well it would look upon it.

We haggled, and we haggled. I eventually won, (or he did, who knows?) and carried my spoils back through the tented aisles, past the eager peddlers and into the awaiting boot of our saviour, the taxi.

When we had all finished our purchasing spree, we said to the driver, where can we get a drink.

Now as Pakistan has strict laws, the only way you can get a drink is to go to certain hotels, and they then take you into a room with no windows (or blacked out) and here you can enjoy (?) a cool drink of alcohol.

Is it worth it I ask? No, after that one we were happy to drink soft drinks!

As we drove around Karachi, sweating with the windows closed, but felt much safer, we admired the different buildings and their traditional values.

We even drove through the rich areas, with their 20ft high fences and security guards!

Two things I enjoyed were, firstly, the snake charmer with the cobra.

I was intrigued how the snake swayed from side to side, and the music was harrowing, but also mesmerising. I went off this very quickly when he let a mongoose free from a brown sack near his side. This then attacked the cobra, which was no more!

Another side of inhumane actions that cultures seem to inspire to.

The second thing was the crab fishing, an experience and a half!

I sailed into the murky waters, in a wooden “thing” not much bigger than a rowing boat.

You were then given a hand line to dangle over the side and catch crabs!

A singing, happy go lucky boatman had a little fire going in a crudely constructed stove, which he would use to boil the crabs you caught so you could eat them straight away!

For some reason, I had no appetite for these crustaceans, despite them being amongst my favourite food. Nothing to do with the lovely brown water or the smell!

To cap this off, you could buy a T shirt that read, now wait for this as this is the best bit,

I CAUGHT CRABS IN KARACHI

Needless to say, this offer was declined as well!

When we sailed away, I knew that I would never forget this place and the memory lives on.

Angus