I was looking through old photos and decided to share a small bit of my life. Perhaps open a few people’s eyes as well. When I was about 11 years old, we had to move to Pakistan because my father had work there. I dreaded going there, actually. I knew nothing of the place other than the fact that it was close to a country that was at war, at the time. Pakistan was also experiencing civil and political unrest but that wasn’t much of a problem in Karachi. At least, it wasn’t as bad as it was in the capital.
I lived there for 14 months. Yes, it wasn’t the safest nor the best places that we had lived in. There were armed riots that caused schools to close down or send the children home. Our home was guarded day and night by two security guards. Throughout the year, save for the winter, power had to be cut in certain portions of the city at certain times of the day. In fact, because of this, we experienced a short circuit that caused a fire in the master bedroom. No fatalities though. Unless you count the air conditioning unit as one.
However, that doesn’t necessarily mean it was an ugly place. I still hold memories that are beyond ugly. Memories that are beautiful. The picture above is one of those memories. I met a lot of people who lived there who made our 14 month stay there very much easier than it would have been if we hadn’t met them. The hotel staff of the Karachi Mariott, the fellow pinoys, the teaching staff of my school, the other expat families, whom we had playdates with, and my friend’s families. All of them.
I hope to come back, simply to photograph certain sights of the city. There may have been terrible memories there, memories that I know would give me reason not to come back but looking at these photos, somehow the good resonates more than the bad. I suppose what they say is true. You only miss a place once you’ve left.