The first thing we did on the way back to the airport was go through another of the roadblocks. For reasons Shezhad was not able to suggest, we got stop and asked to get out. Could be Shezhad was driving through talking on the cell phone or it could be there were white guys in the back seat, but who knows. They were very polite (so it seemed, most of the conversation was in Urdu) and we had to show our papers (passports and visas) and our presence had to be both explained (the Rotary business card) and registered. Our information was dutifully written down and we had to sign the book. Then our passports were returned and they wished us good day and a pleasant afternoon in flawless English, which mostly seems the way here. One thing I can say, the post had a fair amount of reasonable fire power, including a heavy machine gun or two.
Shezhad said the check points look for people trying to bring explosives into the crowded(er) parts of the city and cause general disruption. While we were having out information copied down, they seemed to stop closed trucks, panel vans, and the occasional decrepit non-panel van. Each was looked in and search visually, but it seems to be enough of a deterrent. Another of those things we don't hear is that they have had several instances where explosives have been discharged at the checkpoints, but none in the populated parts of the city.
Dinner was a family affair at Shezhad’s house, a pleasant mix of dishes and rice and fresh orange juice with tea afterwards. Balti form the countryside (and the buffalo project) is in the city with us this week, staying at Shezhad’s as well. He and Max and Tom and Shezhad’s inlaws came for dinner.
I would write more, but the power has gone out again, so it is time for bed.
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