Off with the bedsheets!
It has occured to me that the problem I"m having might not entirely be my mother's fault. I think I am going through my terrible twenties with her. Anything she says to me turns into some sort of insult in my brain and I take great offense. Not a good thing when you have eight children and eight adults sitting in a room looking at you. I believe she asked me to pass the tea the last time I started pouting. Lucky for her it'll all soon be over. I'm nearing thirty at an alarming speed these days.
Peshawar is conservative as I've said before. What that means in layman's terms is that I have to wear a bedsheet on my head when leaving the gates of the courtyard. The thing slips off and my mother gives me looks and repeadetly tries to arrange it for me to cover my chest and arms and hips. Any sign of a figure is a bad thing. We're quite daring over here because our faces are actually uncovered. All my female relatives leave the house with only their eyes showing. It's quite funny to see people staring at us wondering why one of us is covered up and the other just prancing about.
It's been a different sort of travelling experience over here. We mainly depend on one of our male cousins to take us out to the markets and show us around. So far we've been to Islamabad and Murree and The Five Rivers in Punjab. We went for a bath in the river fully dressed and I sat there submerged eating watermelon and drinking tea. It was all quite ridiculous. I looked like an idiot but it was quite cooling. My cousins wore their hijabs into the water and I went stark naked by Afghan standards(aka I was wearing all my clothes except the bedsheet on my head).
My family is quite interesting. As I've said there are something like nine children under the age of six in the house. Not all by one woman. There's three brothers and their wives that live there. It's a posh neighbourhood in the city. My aunt smokes a hookah at least six times a day. She gets antsy in the markets and wants to return home to get back to the hookah as soon as we leave the house. My sisters and I have been experiencing some liquid poo problems as of late.
I have to go now. My times up at the internet cafe. My chapperone has had enough for the day.
Peshawar is conservative as I've said before. What that means in layman's terms is that I have to wear a bedsheet on my head when leaving the gates of the courtyard. The thing slips off and my mother gives me looks and repeadetly tries to arrange it for me to cover my chest and arms and hips. Any sign of a figure is a bad thing. We're quite daring over here because our faces are actually uncovered. All my female relatives leave the house with only their eyes showing. It's quite funny to see people staring at us wondering why one of us is covered up and the other just prancing about.
It's been a different sort of travelling experience over here. We mainly depend on one of our male cousins to take us out to the markets and show us around. So far we've been to Islamabad and Murree and The Five Rivers in Punjab. We went for a bath in the river fully dressed and I sat there submerged eating watermelon and drinking tea. It was all quite ridiculous. I looked like an idiot but it was quite cooling. My cousins wore their hijabs into the water and I went stark naked by Afghan standards(aka I was wearing all my clothes except the bedsheet on my head).
My family is quite interesting. As I've said there are something like nine children under the age of six in the house. Not all by one woman. There's three brothers and their wives that live there. It's a posh neighbourhood in the city. My aunt smokes a hookah at least six times a day. She gets antsy in the markets and wants to return home to get back to the hookah as soon as we leave the house. My sisters and I have been experiencing some liquid poo problems as of late.
I have to go now. My times up at the internet cafe. My chapperone has had enough for the day.
posted by LOTC at 10:03 AM
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