IN A WORLD CALLED PAKISTAN (2)

Week 2 and
I've seen a lot of things
I've heard a lot of things
I've tasted a lot of things

So first I'll start with the nitty gritty workload. I have a lot of it. Everyday at 11, I go on a thirty minute drive that goes something like this:

That's right. I'm sitting on a motorcycle. Did you know that in Pakistan (and other countries like Pakistan, I'm sure), most of the women that sit behind the motorcycle driver actually sit side saddle format, like this:

It's super fun riding like this at 80mph. 

So getting to work is a charm. I'm not being sarcastic. It's literally so much fun. The roads are all jagged and bumpy that it feels like a Six-Flags roller-coaster.

But doing the work is a bit hectic. My adviser gathers two of his students every day, three or four times a week, both of whom come from different regions of Pakistan, and I am given the faculty room for a one-on-one. It takes about an hour for each interview, and usually I end up with usable and satisfactory information. I'll tell you the truth, it is extremely difficult to get exactly what you want from the interviewee. It gets tough to convey what you want answered, and how. The first day, all my interviews beat around the bush and never directly answered my question. I suppose it was on me to have asked better questions; but all is well now.

Then I got sick. Like horribly, badly, maliciously sick. And I still am now. It's an adjustment thing, ya know? America is a lot cleaner than Pakistan is, so my body was bound to succumb. But this adjustment sickness is really eating at me. Sometimes I can't move or even speak because every part of my body hurts so bad. I get a fluctuating fever and stomach aches and headaches and I really just want it to stop.

Oh I should let you know that I travel a lot (effective transition). The university I'm gathering my research in is in Lahore, and every weekend I travel either by train or one very dreadful, claustrophobic van to Narowal (where all my aunts and uncles and cousins live). So it's a constant trip every week.

I just want to stress the pain I felt yesterday. This is what four hours in a claustrophobic van looks like:

So anywho, I'm going back to bed because my stomach is beginning to hurt again. OH I forgot, I wrote my first short folktale story a few days ago!! I'm so excited because everything is starting to take shape (or at least, kind of).

Till next time

(PS, if the videos don't show, please let me know)