At 0700, we are given the go ahead to proceed to harbour. Karachi is a large city covered by a cloud of pollution. We reach our berthing space at 0900 and the Port Authorities come on board. They all profess some official duty such a berthing under-master in charge of toilets and they all demand - not ask, but demand - retribution. The captain is slowly going mad. I can see him turning different shades of red as they enter his cabin with a list of cigarettes and alcohol they want to take. If we do not give them what they want then the ship is suddenly and unexpectedly detained until further notice, all crew and officers can be placed under arrest for some lame, made-up charge and the ship searched from top to bottom in the hope that they will find something to fine the company with. There is little we can do but negotiate with them. As I leave the captain’s cabin I hear that the deck workers, who are supposed to discharge the cargo, demand 3 cases of beer per gang. I go on deck and witness the most incredible sight: those dirty, barely clothed Islamic workers are huddled together on the deck around the crates of beer, they open a bottle, drink it dry in a matter of seconds and hurry to drink more, they fight as to who will drink the most; within 5 minutes they are all vomiting all over the deck. It is barely past 0900 and all our workers are blind drunk. I am shocked at this behaviour: this is supposed to be an Islamic country where religion forbids them to drink alcohol. They rob us blind of every bottle we have and drink or sell it under our noses, yet five times a day they will drop and offer the most fervent prayers to Allah, often on the bridge or in the captains cabin. All this, while drinking and violating their religious laws. I struggle to understand. A car is arranged for me and Ahmed takes around the city: it is very much and Indian city but with no cultural sights. It is large, crowded, noisy, smelly but full of colour and lively. I am shown the large souks, where I am told all can be found at a special friendly price for yours truly. I enjoy the food, which is identical to Indian and the buzz around the city which, as far as I can make out, is equally Indian. I expect the country to be more religious, to be stricter under the rule of the dictator (or liberator, depending on point of view) Musharaf. I do not notice increased religious fervour or fanatism of any kind. I have the feeling that they are people struggling for a bit more freedom and power, yet, as I clearly saw on the ship, as soon as they are given such freedoms and power, it gets out of hand and corruption and drunkenness sets in.
Karachi, Pakistan, 26/09



Degrubenc2005-12-09 16:12:32
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At 0700, we are given the go ahead to proceed to harbour. Karachi is a large city covered by a cloud of pollution. We reach our berthing space at 0900 and the Port Authorities come on board. They all profess some official duty such a berthing under-master in charge of toilets and they all demand - not ask, but demand - retribution. The captain is slowly going mad. I can see him turning different shades of red as they enter his cabin with a list of cigarettes and alcohol they want to take. If we do not give them what they want then the ship is suddenly and unexpectedly detained until further notice, all crew and officers can be placed under arrest for some lame, made-up charge and the ship searched from top to bottom in the hope that they will find something to fine the company with. There is little we can do but negotiate with them. As I leave the captain’s cabin I hear that the deck workers, who are supposed to discharge the cargo, demand 3 cases of beer per gang. I go on deck and witness the most incredible sight: those dirty, barely clothed Islamic workers are huddled together on the deck around the crates of beer, they open a bottle, drink it dry in a matter of seconds and hurry to drink more, they fight as to who will drink the most; within 5 minutes they are all vomiting all over the deck. It is barely past 0900 and all our workers are blind drunk. I am shocked at this behaviour: this is supposed to be an Islamic country where religion forbids them to drink alcohol. They rob us blind of every bottle we have and drink or sell it under our noses, yet five times a day they will drop and offer the most fervent prayers to Allah, often on the bridge or in the captains cabin. All this, while drinking and violating their religious laws. I struggle to understand. A car is arranged for me and Ahmed takes around the city: it is very much and Indian city but with no cultural sights. It is large, crowded, noisy, smelly but full of colour and lively. I am shown the large souks, where I am told all can be found at a special friendly price for yours truly. I enjoy the food, which is identical to Indian and the buzz around the city which, as far as I can make out, is equally Indian. I expect the country to be more religious, to be stricter under the rule of the dictator (or liberator, depending on point of view) Musharaf. I do not notice increased religious fervour or fanatism of any kind. I have the feeling that they are people struggling for a bit more freedom and power, yet, as I clearly saw on the ship, as soon as they are given such freedoms and power, it gets out of hand and corruption and drunkenness sets in.
As I return to my ship in the evening, I find a customs officer praying to my door, with 5 cases of beer next to him. I step over him, pull his mat aside so that I may enter my cabin, laugh at him as he puts such effort in convincing Allah that he is not a drunken corrupt official but rather a good obedient Muslim.
I am slightly disappointed with my visit to Pakistan. I expect it is because of my experiences with the port officials and the incredible levels of corruption and lack of professionalism. I have the feeling of having entered a medieval society in break-down. If the rest of the government is ran in the same way, I fear for their nuclear capability and near childish bickering relationship with India. During dinner, the captain keeps to himself and keeps muttering phrases such as “human scum” and “walking garbage”. I laugh quietly to myself. We leave Karachi at 2130, to the greatest relief of all on board.
See photographs from:
Pakistan Gallery
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