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My Christmas party in Islamabad
By: Atle Hetland | December 29, 2011
This year, I was invited to a unique Christmas party in Islamabad, and I will tell you a bit from it in this article. When I and several other guests arrived, Sameena, the hostess, came out from the kitchen, looking like a friendly soul in a small town. She could have been from my home town in Norway, somewhere in America perhaps, or almost anywhere. But she is from the upper-middle class in Islamabad, running an NGO dealing with development advocacy. Sameena welcomed us all in her friendly way in elegant English, with American accent, before she dived back into the kitchen to prepare the turkey and all that goes with it. When she later appeared in her party gown, I must admit it took me a few seconds to recognise her.
As we stood there, sipping a glass of a sweet drink, in came Sheherezade, the lady in grey, a potter from Lahore. She is no longer Hollywood-slim and she explains to another lady that the fabric of her dress is such that it flows beautifully on any size person. And besides, it matches my graying hair, she jokingly explained. All was true, and it could only be spoken by a self-confident and accomplished artist. Sheherezade, too, like Sameena had lived away from Pakistan for many years, in Toronto, Canada, where so many other Pakistani immigrants live. But she had decided to come back to her country to do something she thought was important.
One such thing is to run pottery classes for young children, up to the age of 12, when children are still receptive, she said. And the things you teach them they may remember for the rest of their lives, she explained. When I hold the classes, I include old-fashioned ways of greeting and behaving respectfully. I teach them cultural history and try to make them proud of who they are and where they come from. I tell them that they must not judge, but listen. And I try to show them what they do must also be fun and pleasant, otherwise their sensitivity and creativity will be spoilt. Well, it cant quite be spoilt in children, but it must be encouraged.
I am glad I came back, Sheherezade told me. I know that you too have made choices in your life, she continued. That is important. We shouldnt just flow with the stream. We became friends instantaneously. She went on talking about art and clay work in Finland and Sweden, with some supplementary information from the Danish guest at the party, Ea Suzanne. And we all recalled some of the socialist ideas, popular in our youth, alas, mostly gone in our time.
If I were not impressed enough by the ladies by then, Danyal, a young Pakistani filmmaker, left me quite stunned. He had been influenced by artists from the Nordic countries, Russia and the former Soviet republics. Danyal makes documentaries and semi-fiction films, and, obviously, to make a living, he has to make ads, which is part of growing up in the industry in Pakistan today. Pakistanis watch film, especially on DVD, but the countrys own production is limited, making it difficult for filmmakers to live from their work, he explained. And Ea Suzanna informed us of the documentary film festival held in Denmark annually.
I was glad I could remember the names of a few Norwegian filmmakers, including Vibeke Løkkeberg and Arnljot Berg. The latter was my teacher in film production, when I studied mass media a generation ago. Berg was an excellent teacher, I remember, and I also remember that his French wifes task in class was to roll cigarettes for her chain-smoking husband - allowed in class only for slightly eccentric and famous artists, even that time before smoking became banned everywhere. That time, Berg was planning his new film, which he called Fanny. He was looking for the young boy, who should play the main part in the film, and Berg had very clear requirements for his looks. It was only later that I discovered that the ideal boy looked just like a Punjabi!
As the Christmas party conversation continued and more guests came, I got the opportunity to ask if anybody knew about Jostein Gaarder, the author of Sophies World, a bestselling book that had later been filmed. It is the most sold Norwegian book ever, translated into 40-50 languages. It made the philosophy teacher a wealthy man overnight so he could devote all his time to writing, and help other young writers into the profession. He and his wife have established a prize being awarded every year in environment and culture. Who says that youth are not interested in history of philosophy, which is the content of the Sophies World? And who says a secondary school teacher can also not do good work outside the classroom?
When the elaborate dinner was over, and it was time to open the Christmas gifts, the gas pressure had already gone down, making the room a bit cold, but nobody seemed to notice, and besides, there was space on the dance floor to warm up. We all received handmade gifts from NGOs, and I had had the foresight enough to rap a copy of my new book about Norway, written for Pakistanis, and published a couple of weeks before the holidays. I think it landed in the hostess lap.
I had sold the book on stand before the holidays, too, sitting outside the main bookshops in Islamabad. Princess Abbasi of Bahawalpur (with title intact, but institution gone) had bought the book, too, and scores of others. At the party, where she also came, with Nazeem, her daughter, she said she had begun reading the book. I was very pleased, obviously. Ordinary writers are light-years away from Jostein Gaarder, and my book is in addition non-fiction - good excuse!
Then there was time for poetry. It was the filmmakers mother, Zoya, who opened the floor by reading one of her own poems in Punjabi - the mother tongue of the majority of Pakistanis. Instead of reading a poem, Ea Suzanna chose to tell us about two Danish literary works by her countryman and woman: The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen and, in more detail, Babettes Feast, written by Isaac Dynesen, which was the penname of Karen Blixen. (She is also the author of the famous book Out of Africa.)
Babettes Feast is quite appropriate when celebrating a religious feast. It teaches us important principles about community and equality. Babette, who was a poor refugee in a foreign land, suddenly ran into a massive inheritance. She decided to hold an extravagant, over the top feast for all her friends, refugees and members of the hosting community. She bought caviar, wines, lobsters and all kinds of luxury items to host the feast. And when it was over she didnt move away to the city. She didnt become a fine lady. She just remained in the village where she had all her friends. When she was asked about it, she said she had spent all her money on the feast, just because she cherished what she had. She didnt want to be lonely and wealthy. If everyone could not have riches in abundance, Babette, too, felt she should not have it either. What a great human being and what a great lesson the story teaches us. The next day, I went to Jinnah Super to buy the film version of Babettes Feast.
And now, I will keep the memories and draw lessons from my Christmas party in Islamabad in 2011. I will remember the great people who attended the party, and all I learned from each of them. I hope to meet them again soon and many times in 2012.
May I take this opportunity to wish you, dear reader, a Happy New Calendar Year 2012!
The writer is a senior Norwegian social scientist based in Islamabad. He has served as United Nations specialist in the United States, as well as various countries in Africa and Asia. He has also spent a decade dealing with the Afghan refugee crisis and university education in Pakistan.
Email: atlehetland@yahoo.com
By: Atle Hetland | December 29, 2011
This year, I was invited to a unique Christmas party in Islamabad, and I will tell you a bit from it in this article. When I and several other guests arrived, Sameena, the hostess, came out from the kitchen, looking like a friendly soul in a small town. She could have been from my home town in Norway, somewhere in America perhaps, or almost anywhere. But she is from the upper-middle class in Islamabad, running an NGO dealing with development advocacy. Sameena welcomed us all in her friendly way in elegant English, with American accent, before she dived back into the kitchen to prepare the turkey and all that goes with it. When she later appeared in her party gown, I must admit it took me a few seconds to recognise her.
As we stood there, sipping a glass of a sweet drink, in came Sheherezade, the lady in grey, a potter from Lahore. She is no longer Hollywood-slim and she explains to another lady that the fabric of her dress is such that it flows beautifully on any size person. And besides, it matches my graying hair, she jokingly explained. All was true, and it could only be spoken by a self-confident and accomplished artist. Sheherezade, too, like Sameena had lived away from Pakistan for many years, in Toronto, Canada, where so many other Pakistani immigrants live. But she had decided to come back to her country to do something she thought was important.
One such thing is to run pottery classes for young children, up to the age of 12, when children are still receptive, she said. And the things you teach them they may remember for the rest of their lives, she explained. When I hold the classes, I include old-fashioned ways of greeting and behaving respectfully. I teach them cultural history and try to make them proud of who they are and where they come from. I tell them that they must not judge, but listen. And I try to show them what they do must also be fun and pleasant, otherwise their sensitivity and creativity will be spoilt. Well, it cant quite be spoilt in children, but it must be encouraged.
I am glad I came back, Sheherezade told me. I know that you too have made choices in your life, she continued. That is important. We shouldnt just flow with the stream. We became friends instantaneously. She went on talking about art and clay work in Finland and Sweden, with some supplementary information from the Danish guest at the party, Ea Suzanne. And we all recalled some of the socialist ideas, popular in our youth, alas, mostly gone in our time.
If I were not impressed enough by the ladies by then, Danyal, a young Pakistani filmmaker, left me quite stunned. He had been influenced by artists from the Nordic countries, Russia and the former Soviet republics. Danyal makes documentaries and semi-fiction films, and, obviously, to make a living, he has to make ads, which is part of growing up in the industry in Pakistan today. Pakistanis watch film, especially on DVD, but the countrys own production is limited, making it difficult for filmmakers to live from their work, he explained. And Ea Suzanna informed us of the documentary film festival held in Denmark annually.
I was glad I could remember the names of a few Norwegian filmmakers, including Vibeke Løkkeberg and Arnljot Berg. The latter was my teacher in film production, when I studied mass media a generation ago. Berg was an excellent teacher, I remember, and I also remember that his French wifes task in class was to roll cigarettes for her chain-smoking husband - allowed in class only for slightly eccentric and famous artists, even that time before smoking became banned everywhere. That time, Berg was planning his new film, which he called Fanny. He was looking for the young boy, who should play the main part in the film, and Berg had very clear requirements for his looks. It was only later that I discovered that the ideal boy looked just like a Punjabi!
As the Christmas party conversation continued and more guests came, I got the opportunity to ask if anybody knew about Jostein Gaarder, the author of Sophies World, a bestselling book that had later been filmed. It is the most sold Norwegian book ever, translated into 40-50 languages. It made the philosophy teacher a wealthy man overnight so he could devote all his time to writing, and help other young writers into the profession. He and his wife have established a prize being awarded every year in environment and culture. Who says that youth are not interested in history of philosophy, which is the content of the Sophies World? And who says a secondary school teacher can also not do good work outside the classroom?
When the elaborate dinner was over, and it was time to open the Christmas gifts, the gas pressure had already gone down, making the room a bit cold, but nobody seemed to notice, and besides, there was space on the dance floor to warm up. We all received handmade gifts from NGOs, and I had had the foresight enough to rap a copy of my new book about Norway, written for Pakistanis, and published a couple of weeks before the holidays. I think it landed in the hostess lap.
I had sold the book on stand before the holidays, too, sitting outside the main bookshops in Islamabad. Princess Abbasi of Bahawalpur (with title intact, but institution gone) had bought the book, too, and scores of others. At the party, where she also came, with Nazeem, her daughter, she said she had begun reading the book. I was very pleased, obviously. Ordinary writers are light-years away from Jostein Gaarder, and my book is in addition non-fiction - good excuse!
Then there was time for poetry. It was the filmmakers mother, Zoya, who opened the floor by reading one of her own poems in Punjabi - the mother tongue of the majority of Pakistanis. Instead of reading a poem, Ea Suzanna chose to tell us about two Danish literary works by her countryman and woman: The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen and, in more detail, Babettes Feast, written by Isaac Dynesen, which was the penname of Karen Blixen. (She is also the author of the famous book Out of Africa.)
Babettes Feast is quite appropriate when celebrating a religious feast. It teaches us important principles about community and equality. Babette, who was a poor refugee in a foreign land, suddenly ran into a massive inheritance. She decided to hold an extravagant, over the top feast for all her friends, refugees and members of the hosting community. She bought caviar, wines, lobsters and all kinds of luxury items to host the feast. And when it was over she didnt move away to the city. She didnt become a fine lady. She just remained in the village where she had all her friends. When she was asked about it, she said she had spent all her money on the feast, just because she cherished what she had. She didnt want to be lonely and wealthy. If everyone could not have riches in abundance, Babette, too, felt she should not have it either. What a great human being and what a great lesson the story teaches us. The next day, I went to Jinnah Super to buy the film version of Babettes Feast.
And now, I will keep the memories and draw lessons from my Christmas party in Islamabad in 2011. I will remember the great people who attended the party, and all I learned from each of them. I hope to meet them again soon and many times in 2012.
May I take this opportunity to wish you, dear reader, a Happy New Calendar Year 2012!
The writer is a senior Norwegian social scientist based in Islamabad. He has served as United Nations specialist in the United States, as well as various countries in Africa and Asia. He has also spent a decade dealing with the Afghan refugee crisis and university education in Pakistan.
Email: atlehetland@yahoo.com
