Day 1090: That’s All She Wrote

Well… today marks the end of my 353 days in Pakistan.  Actually, by the time this entry posts I will be 10 hours into my trip home… and I’ll still have about 14 hours until Belgrade. 

Let’s see… at the moment of this posting (10am EST) I will be about halfway into my second of three flights… somewhere in-between Dubai, UAE and Frankfurt, Germany.  Erg… that flight is seven hours of pain!

After a three and a half hour flight from Islamabad to Dubai and a three and a half hour layover… getting onto a seven hour flight is not my idea of a good time… but totally worth it.  I just hope there will be some good movies.

Anyway, I am REALLY looking forward to get home, although it’s all still a little hard to fully process. 

Now, there is nothing hard to process about getting back to what I do best: being a husband and father… but I am having trouble processing the fact I don’t have to come back to this place.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want to come back… but a year is a VERY long time.  And every time I’ve been home in the last year we’ve always had the knowledge of my return to Pakistan looming over our heads… and it’s pretty stressful.

So now, I haven’t quite processed the fact that this year is actually over… that when I return home there will be nothing looming. 

I am sure an overwhelming rush of relief is coming my way… and I can’t wait to feel it. 

Anyway… when it comes, there’s no time to truly enjoy it. 

We’re only going to be in Belgrade for about a week and then we’re off to Washington.  I decided to schedule my consultations and training before Home Leave… at this point I’m not very happy with that decision, but flight routing from Atlanta to Paramaribo is much better than from Washington, so… yeah… what are you going to do?

So… all you folks rocking the Oakwood save some room at the pool for the Schutz’s!  We’re on our way “home”!

Day 1078: Another Gift from the Carpet Brothers

I’m starting to think the Carpet Brothers have been following my blog… although… if they were… they wouldn’t have needed to call me for the correct spelling of my name.


Anyway, they just called me wanting to know how much longer I was going to be in town and they also wanted the spelling of my name and Serena’s.  “My Brother’s and I wish to have a special gift made for you and your wife; we will certainly have it made before you leave.  We will call you soon.”


Honestly, the two coasters were enough and I am feeling quite touched and very excited.  Of course I told them it wasn’t necessary, arguing that a gestures of friendship isn’t necessary is pretty futile over here… so I didn’t object too much.


Who knows what it will be!  Or if it’s something Serena will want to show off in her house… but regardless, it will be something special with a great story.  We shall see.


The odd thing is this.


The call was the second time the Brothers have reentered my life, in a way, since posting my last entry.


Yesterday, a work buddy of mine named Bruno, who bought three rugs from the Brothers (after I introduced them) came up to me, “Hey, the Brothers keep calling us to see if we’d like to go out to dinner.”  (I’m using the word ‘us’ because Bruno is one of the lucky few here with his wife.  Unaccompanied posts pretty nice for couples without kids.)


Oh, and by the way, dinner invitations from the Brother’s are normal.  They are really into networking… they have invited me numerous time, but I’ve never been free… and to be honest, I’ve have shied away from their invitations because I didn’t really have anyone to go with.  I really like the Brothers, but in general I don’t feel comfortable going out to a dinner in Islamabad alone.  


So, yesterday Bruno opened the door.  


I didn’t really know where he was going at first.  Bruno is well over six foot, former marine, build like a brick house, and his normal everyday tone of voice is “I hate you”… he’s a teddy bear once you get to know him, however, because of his tone you never know where he’s coming from.


“Yeah, so these Brothers of yours keep calling us, they want to take me and the wife out to dinner.”  


Since I’m never really sure where Bruno is coming from, I never beat around the bush with him… so I just blurted out, “So, are you guys going to go?”


Bruno just paused for a minute and said, “We’re thinking about it…  But we’re only going to go if you come with.” 


There is was… 


Me:  “Let’s do it.  Set it up and tell me when.”


Sooo… looks like my last couple weeks are going to be action packed!

Day 1076: The Carpet Brothers

The other day I teased at my carpet buying experience and the plethora of stories I’ve collected as part of that journey.

Honestly, there are a TON of stories here, BUT, the most important is my story of ‘The Brothers’, as I call them, and the very sweet gift they gave me as a farewell.

I met The Brothers last fall at a Diplomatic Bazaar… you name it, there was someone selling it.  And honestly, there had to have been 15 to 20 different carpet venders.  It was kind of a mess.  They were all grouped together on the same lawn... no discernible breaks from one vender to the next and no aisle to walk through. 

Remember, back in the States before joining the Foreign Service, I used to plan and manage Arts Festivals… which is pretty much the exact same concept as this Fall Bazaar I was attending.  And when planning an arts festival (a good arts festival) the number one rule is to spread your product around the venue.  You don’t want two landscape painters next to each other, you don’t want two jewelry artists next to each other… you get the idea.

Well, at this Bazaar all of the venders were clumped together based on what they sold.  Brass was with brass, furniture was with furniture, and all 15 to 20 carpet venders were jumbled together in one huge mess.

Imagine living in a city designed on a grid with no roads, where all the buildings butted up against each other.  Imagine how hard it would be to get home if your building was in the center of that grid.  Well… that was where The Brothers were.

I wasn’t really looking for carpets that day… honestly, I hadn’t been in Pakistan long enough to know up from down, let along the fair price for seemingly random items.

But I was looking for carpet coasters.  Carpets small enough to use as coasters… for drinks.  Serena didn’t ask for much that early into my tour (going into Christmas), but she had specifically asked for carpet coasters… so I went looking.  And you know what?  None of the venders had them, at least not the venders with the primo locations around the edge of the carpet enclave.  

The carpet vender grid was pretty darn intimidating.  Everyone was going for the hard sell… and to get to the interior venders, you literally had to trample on layer upon layer of carpets, so the idea of walking into the center of the beast wasn’t really my idea of a good time.  But I teamed up with a couple friends and we ventured in.

It was one… big… crazy… melee.

“Sir!  Look at this!  You must buy this!”

Me:  “Do you have carpet coaters?”

“No!  But I have lovely bed sheets!  Here feel the bed sheets!  Rub them on your face!”

Me: “Do you have carpet coasters?”

“No, but I have this very beautiful table cloth, you must buy it for your wife of she won’t love you or bare you children!”

Me:  “Do you have carpet coasters?”

“No, but I have three slices of cucumber.  Don’t you like cucumber?”

Finally, I stumbled across a young man in tradition Muslim garb.

Me:  “Do you have carpet coasters?”

Him:  “Yes, I have many different varieties.”

And he did.  And he turned out to be the ONLY vender carrying such a small and simple item.

He made me a good price and I bought quite a few.  And as the day wore on and my friends saw my coaster loot, they made me introduce them to The Brothers… by the end of the day I probably took about a half dozen friends to buy coasters from them.

And with each visit ‘The Brother’ chatted me up a bit.

On the day of the Bazaar I met the Middle brother and the Youngest brother… and I have to be honest, I was very impressed with the Middle brothers English.  And when I compliment his English I’m not talking about his accent or my ability to understand him… I’m talking about his use of the language.  He was using a lot of western colloquialisms which is not the norm here and he was also laughing at my dry sarcastic jokes… legitimately.  

When you’ve been overseas for a while you quickly realize sarcasm and dry humor almost NEVER translate even when you share a common language.  Most of the time you just get a blank stare or a confused smile… and then you have to explain the joke… which never goes over well and you end up saying, “Nevermind,” and look like an idiot… which I’m pretty good at.

Anyway, I could have a normal conversation with the Middle brother without having to be self conscious about words I chose to use, or more accurately, the words I blurted without thinking.

Needless to say, when he invited me to visit him in his store I legitimately took him up on it… although because of work and R&R travel, it took me a few months to organize my initial visit.

When I finally did, I had the opportunity to meet the Older brother, who was very candid and honest… and very western in speech, while being very traditional in dress.  I immediately like him.

Shopping in Pakistan is a very interesting experience and it takes some getting used to… mainly because it’s not a cold and disconnected chore like it is in the States.

When you shop in Pakistan, it’s more like a visit.  You sit, you talk, you get to know each other, have a cup of tea, show off photographs of your kids, and exchange stories of the world.  It’s not uncommon for 30 minutes to pass before you even look at a product, let alone discuss price.

And interestingly enough… the venders who want to talk price and push a sale up front are usually the ones who are trying to rip you off.  It’s the venders who behave as if you’re a guest in their home and are in no rush are the venders you want to invest your time in, because after your visit, they believe they are selling to a friend rather than a customer.  And at the same time… I feel like I’m buying from a friend too.  It’s actually pretty darn fun… and not to sound overly cynical… it’s a great sales tactic as well.

ANYWAY, as I visited with the Brothers their story came together… explaining why they were so adapt to western vernacular and understanding of western culture and thought, while also balancing their traditional religious beliefs.

They were educated in Canada.

At least the two eldest brothers, the youngest is probably only twelve or thirteen and speaks limited English… only what his brothers have taught him.  

As their story goes, the brothers are sixth (or whatever) generation Turkmen carpet dealers.  They specialize in Turkman/Afghani Tribal rugs and their great-grandfather had become very popular in the Diplomatic circles because of his honestly and fair dealings.  

I actually saw a lot of this while working with them.  The Brother would go out of their way to point out flaws in their carpet, “See here?  When we got this rug, it was damaged here and we had to repair it… however, this rug is 60 years old and after the repair, the only way we could match the vegetable dyes was by using chemical dyes… so I cannot tell you this carpet is 100% natural.”  

And this wasn’t an isolated occurrence… they did this a few times… occasionally… and only once did I find the flaw glaring.  Most of them were so perfectly mended that I never would have noticed if not told.

Anyway, they great-grand father handed the family business of to their grandfather, who handed it off to their father… each generation building their business and reputation even bigger and better.  They had become so big and integrated into Diplomatic community that their father decided it was important to send his sons for a western education… and so the two oldest moved to Canada to attend college.

Then, their father passed away suddenly.  Unexpectedly.  Probably a heart attack.  

The boys instantly inherited a business they understood… grew up in… but weren’t properly prepared to take over.  It hadn’t been the family’s tradition to write things down… they were a family of oral tradition.  And their father died before he had passed his knowledge onto the next generation.  Their father passed with all of this business contacts tucked away in his head.  

The boys moved home and were forced to start over from scratch.   

They’re smart though, they knew embedding themselves in the Diplomatic Community was the best way to go… and the generations before had taught them that going for the quick sale/rip off wasn’t the key to success.  Diplomats have money… and they have friends… and being fair and honest is the best way to meet their friends.

They must have made me for being someone with friends and clout among his friends when I brought so many to buy carpet coasters.  But, they treated me right and gave me great deals… at least I think they were great deals.  

I ended up buying quite a few rugs from them.  And I know a number of my friends had also visited their store and bought from them.  I know, because my friends told me they were going… and they show me what they buy (if they buy).

And every time one of my friends visits them (whether they buy anything or not) The Brothers always send me a very nice thank you email.  

However, what impresses me the most about their emails, as if I wasn’t impressed enough already, is that they never say, “Thank you so much for sending your friend to our store.  He looked at many rugs, did he say anything?  Do you think he will come back and buy?”

No… when the brothers email me.  They never mention my friends visiting… the never mention sales… all they say is, “Thank you for being a kind and generous friend.  I hope all is well in your and your family’s lives.  May God bless you.”

Short and sweet… you know?  I didn’t really grow up in a ‘thank you’ card writing family, but my step-mother-in-law swears by it… and I’m starting to recognize the impact.  

Anyway, now for the point of my story… however, to truly appreciate the POINT, you probably needed all the exposition.

The Brothers had been holding quite a few rugs for me, but I was having a devil of a time getting to their shop to pick them up.  And I was starting to get nervous about my upcoming pack out, so I asked if they would be able to deliver.  And of course they were more than willing to accommodate, but while I was on the phone they said, “Are you leaving for vacation?  Or are you leaving permanently?”

I could tell they were sad when I told them the answer.

Well… then they came to deliver the carpets the other day I had a chance to host THEIR visit my home.  And have one final talk.  I like them a lot.  The Brothers are good people.  

And when the time came to say goodbye, The Brothers gave me two carpet coasters.  

“These are for you as a gift from us.  One for you and one for your wife.  So you can always remember how we met.”

Yeah… seriously… true story.  

The gift totally took me off guard.  I remember a lot of things, but at the time of their presentation the circumstances surrounding our initial meetings had completely slipped my mind.  

It’s amazing though.  I’ve done my fair share in keeping the Pakistani carpet industry gainfully employed… but these two small, simple carpet coasters will probably be my most prized mementos of my time in Pakistan.  

They certainly have one of the best stories.

Day 1074: Only 16 Days Until Take Off… And I’m Overwhelmed

Well folks.

It has all come down to this.  My last 16 days.

Amazing.

I’m amazingly overwhelmed.

You know?  Moving is pretty darn stressful… and leaving your job is pretty darn stressful too… especially if you need to make sure you leave everything in perfect order so your successor can arrive and seamlessly pick-up where you left off.

With only 16 days left, I feel like I have a MILLION things to do.  Well, not millions… but it certainly feels like an insurmountable amount of work.  Here is a glimpse of my ToDo list:

1. Organize Work

As I mentioned above, I need to get things organized for my successor.  And when I use the word ‘organized’, I really mean write a book explaining everything I’ve been doing for the last year, the current status of each project I’ve been working on, the initial directives and expectations of those projects, and what should be anticipate for those projects for the next week, two weeks, month…  whatever.  Basically, my job right now is to outline everything that might happen while my successor is recovering from jetlag and adjusting to her new surroundings.

At a one year post like Islamabad, we don’t really have the luxury of easing into our jobs and getting settled.  You pretty much show up and do.   

2. Ship Carpets

Well… I bought twelve carpets.  I know!  But they’re not all for me!  Only four of them are for us… the rest I brokered for friends and family… and now I have to ship them… well… I’ve shipped all of them but two.  I’m left with the two complicated ones; the heavy ones that have to go DHL International or more creative means of travel.  I’m pretty sure one of them will end up going in a buddy of mine’s Household Effect shipment.  His next assignment is in the States, so he’ll at least get it there and then I’ll need to arrange UPS shipping the rest of the way… to its actually final destination.

It has been quite the ordeal, but VERY fun and I have a ton of great carpet stories.  I’ll try remembering to share those with you another time. 

3.  Buy Gifts

Sure, I might make my friends and family pay for their own rugs… but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to bring them something from Pakistan for free!  So yeah… I’ve been running around all over the place looking for just the right items for my nieces, nephews, brother, parents, in-law, out-laws, you name it!  

And due to my limited luggage allowance and my large immediate and extended family I’m pretty sure I’ll be shipping a couple boxes to strategic locations  along our home leave itinerary. 

4.  Get Furniture Delivered

So… yeah… I’ve also had three pieces of furniture made.  And the builder is going to be cutting it pretty close.  A few days ago I checked in with him and he said, “Sir, two more weeks, two, maybe two and a half.”  I said, “The movers come in a week and a half.  Can you get it done in a week and a half?”  

“Sir, we will try our best, but cannot promise.”

Me:  “Well, please try, because if the furniture isn’t delivered in a week and a half, I won’t be buying them.”

I’m confident it will all be finished and delivered on time… but the delay doesn’t make me feel good.

5.  Pack House

Yeah… so my pack out is in a week and a half.  How insane is that???!???!

6.  Finish ‘The Chair’ Story.

Errr… I might have to put that off until Paramaribo.

6.  Spend Quality Time with My Friends

Listen.  I met some really amazing people here.  Folks I hope I get to serve with again… and more accurately, folks I hope to SEE again.  You never know!  Heck, I just want the chance to introduce them to Serena and the boys and be able to say, “See!  They’re real!”

Seriously though.  In the Foreign Service you make friends for life.  And I’ve made some very close friends here… and since I’m not much of a social butterfly, I have to remind myself, “JP, you need to take a time out and just be with your friends.  Just take some time, relax and enjoy their company… because you might not see them again… ever.”  Sad, but true.  

Honestly, this has been such a strange year.  It’s almost been like living in a make-believe world… but now as the year comes to a close; this make-believe world has become my normal; which makes the idea of going back to my REAL life, as a husband and father, all the more strange.  

You kind of lose track of what’s real and what not.

But, I’ll tell you this.  

It’s only going to take a couple hugs and kisses from Serena and the boys to remind me what’s REAL.  

Them.

In 16 days I’ll be home.

Day 1052: My Departure is Becoming Real… VERY REAL

Deep breath.

Can it be true?  I really have less than 40 days left in Pakistan?  Less than 40 days separated from my family?  Less than 40 hug-less nights!  Less than 40 days of food that may, or may not, make me sick!  Less than 40!?!?!?!      

Honestly… that just seems crazy.  Unreal!  Simply amazing!

It has certainly been a very long, stressful, and lonely year.  But it’s almost over and I can’t wait! 

You know?  Everyone measures the end of a tour in different ways.  Some people checkout immediately after they receive their next assignment (even if they still have a year at their current post). 

For other folks, their move becomes real when their travel arrangements have been finalized and their pack-out scheduled.

However, I have to say… my departure from Islamabad did not really become real until my next post (Paramaribo, Suriname) assigned us our sponsor, the family who will help us with our adjustment and settle into our new home. 

That’s right!  The Paramaribo welcome wagon is starting to gear up for our arrival and I am super excited.

Leaving a post is always hard.  Even a crazy place like Islamabad… you know how it is, I’ve lived here for a year and in a lot of ways it’s become my normal and I have a lot of friends here.  So yeah, it’s going to be hard to say ‘good-bye’.   And honestly, this transition is doubly hard, because five days after I say ‘good-bye’ to Pakistan, I’ll have to say ‘good-bye’ to Serbia.

I guess with all this saying ‘good-bye’ it just feels good to know that there’s a place ready to say ‘hello’.  And that makes the transition SO much easier!

Plus, our sponsors in Paramaribo are another crazy blogging family of four: http://fergusonfamily2002.blogspot.com/

And that’s just plain cool.

Day 1036: Oh, that Grayson!

Grayson just cracks me up.  He is always very interested in how my day is and I just love how he asks.

Grayson: “Dad, can I ask you a question?”

Me: “Sure buddy.”

Grayson: “Dad… Dad… I want to ask you… Dad, how was your day at work?”

Me: “It was pretty good.”

Grayson: “That’s good Dad, I’m glad you had a good day in Pakistan.”

Now, sometimes Grayson doesn’t ask me how work was, sometimes he just asks, “Dad, how was your day in Pakistan.”

And my stock answer has become: “HOT!”

Day 1035: Hot Weather Training

So… while I think the only drawback to going to Suriname is the horrible internet speeds… Serena is pretty apprehensive about the heat.  Which I find kind of funny since she lived in Mombasa, on the coast of Kenya, for two and a half year… but I’m pretty sure she’s having horrific frizzy hair flashbacks.

Anyway, it’s pretty much 90 degrees Fahrenheit year around in Surianme… with 100% humidity.  So yeah… it’s going to be hot… and since spring is now coming to a close, the Schutz family has begun the longest summer of our lives… it should last until late 2014.

Honestly, though.  I’m looking forward to cooling off.  It’s only mid-May, but the daily highs in Islamabad are consistently hitting over 105 degrees Fahrenheit, (Tomorrow’s expected high is 108 degrees!)

And when you compare that to Suriname’s current highs, which are dancing around the high 80s to low 90s… Suriname is sounding pretty awesome right about now. 

Now, listen.  When you’re talking about temperate like 90 and 108, it’s pretty easy to dismiss it by saying, “Hot is hot,” but an 18 to 20 degree difference, like in the case of Islamabad and Suriname, is pretty darn significant.  Just imagine we’re talking about 50 vs. 70 degrees and you’ll see what I’m talking about.  That’s the difference between jackets and t-shirts.  And in the case of Islamabad and Suriname, it’s the difference between nudist colony and death by heat stroke. 

It’s HOT!  Dang hot!

Day 1030: Grayson Is a Lucky Boy, Indeed

While I was home on my R and R Grayson said the funniest thing while playing with me in the back yard.

So, we were in our backyard throwing around this gigantic Frisbee… the kind made of fabric with Styrofoam around the edges.  It’s designed to float more than it is anything else and Grayson and I were having a great time.

Now, one issue we have when playing in the back yard is the fence.  It’s a ‘Sandlot’ style fence.  Do you remember the movie ‘The Sandlot’?  Where the boys play baseball is a vacant lot next to this enormous fence… and whenever they hit a ball over the fence it is lost forever?  Well, that’s the kind of fence we have in Belgrade.

Well… Grayson and I are always careful about not getting too close to the fence when we play (although we have lost a couple of things over the edge… including a sandal… which I am still confused about…) anyway, on the day in question Grayson threw the Frisbee wild… it went high into the air and over the fence…

Grayson: “OH NO!”

Me: “Oh man!  There it goes!”

And then… it stopped.  The Frisbee stopped and just hung in the air for a second (a light wind had blow through the yard and stopped the momentum of the Frisbee… it just hung there floated on the other side of the fence.

Grayson and I held our breaths with no hope of ever seeing the Frisbee again… waiting for the wind to subside and drop the Frisbee into the pit of despair… but it didn’t it just hung in the air.  It give you an idea, Grayson and I had time to look at each other and exchange a “What in the world is going on glance” AND return our gaze to the Frisbee without it moving.

Then… just as all hope was lost, the wind didn’t die down… it picked up… and a huge gust of wind came through blowing the Frisbee straight up into the air and as it began to fall back down, it floated back over the fence, into our yard, and into my hands.

Grayson and I were just took a stood there looking at each other…  at the fence… the Frisbee… and each other again.  Then we both busted out laughing and Grayson said, “I can’t believe it!  The Frisbee came back!  I just can’t believe it!  I’m such a lucky boy!  I have a mommy, a daddy, a baby brother, and a helpful wind.  I am just so lucky!”

Day 1028: Worst Part of My 19 Hours of Travel (Doha to Islamabad)

So yesterday… I may have been unfair picking on my Rome to Doha seat mates… at least after what happened from Doha to Islamabad.

When THE cardinal sin of flying is breached, worrying about people reclining their seats and opening their windows seem trivial.

When I fly I normally keep a bag at my feet.  I like to have my stuff close and I can’t stand having to get up to fish things out of the overhead bins.

However, since I had been flying all day and the Doha to Islamabad leg was only going to be 3.5 hours I decided to stow my bag overhead so I could have some extra leg room and relax.

Well… ummm… so I almost always request aisle seats because of my legs (I’m just shy of 6 foot)… but for some reason I had been given a middle seat for the last leg of my trip… smack dab in the middle of the wonder twins... who seemed to like the foot space in front of my seat more than their own.

Now, the first thing I should point out is that none of us had placed a bag underneath the seat in front of us, so there was plenty of foot space for all… so I am still kind of confused as to why they kept using mine. 

Secondly, out of the three of us… I was the tallest.

And yes, at one point they both had their feet in MY space. 

Now seriously, the problem is that they were tired.  They were curling up in their seats cattycorner (rather than straight ahead) and as they relaxed their feet would slowly drift under the seat in front of mine.  At least that’s what happened with the guy to my right.  Once he realized what he had done, he moved his legs and it didn’t happen again.

The guy to my left, however, just couldn’t take the hint and was oblivious to my non-verbal cues (kicks). 

Sure, he would move his feet… but it wouldn’t be long before they were back in my space.

Finally, almost halfway into the flight I thought he had himself under control… at least until I stretched and came into contact with BOTH of his feet… and he didn’t make any attempt to move them… so I turned to him and said, “Hey, I love playing footsy as much as the next guy, but this is my third flight today and I’m just not interested.  So, you’re going to need to straighten out so your feet are in front of your seat not mine.”

Yeah… I can be a jerk when I’m tired.  But seriously.  On an airplane, all you have is your seat and your foot space… it must be defended!  

Day 1027: Worst Part of My 19 Hours of Travel (Rome to Doha)

The people I had to sit next to… and behind.

Now… I know I’m going to sound petty here, but I sat next to folks with some of the most annoying in-flight habits… they drove me nuts!  And in my travels I’ve sat next to a lot of different people… some chatty, some smelly, some inconsiderate… but this time around I really scored the dream team.

From Rome to Doha (5.5 hours) I sat behind a guy who liked to recline, which doesn’t really bother me (normally)… but this guy would give me zero warning and drop his seat back with all of his weight, so fast that it would scared me.  Like someone was throwing a brick at my face that magically stopped inches from my nose. 

Although this only happened a couple times during our flight, it really peeved me when he launched back and actually hit my knees one of the times.  My legs had been crossed and he came straight down on top of them, “Ow!  Can you please give me a little warning in the future?”  He didn’t turn… he didn’t respond… he didn’t give me the universal blank stare that says, “I don’t speak your language, but I am sorry.”  He simple lifted his seat up for a second and then launched back again.  I wanted to slap him… but I didn’t.

Next to me was a very quite young woman who seemed perfectly normal until she started looking out the window compulsively.  Now, again… looking out the window is something people do on planes, so I am not complaining.  Sure, every time she opened her window, the glare of the light made ‘The Green Hornet’ unwatchable… but I was less annoyed by her compulsion then you might think.  Sure it was annoying at first… but then I found it funny.   Just about every 15 minutes (yes, I timed her) she would open her window and look out… only for about 30 to 60 seconds… and then close it again.  Honestly, we were up so high there was nothing to see, but she just kept doing it.  Open, Close, Open, Close.

I couldn’t help but imagine her internal monologue: “Good, we are still flying.”  “Is that cloud following us?”  “I shouldn’t have watched ‘Twilight Zone: The Movie’ before going on this flight.”

Day 1026: Best Part of My 19 Hours of Travel

The BEST part of my three flights has to be the layover in Doha.  Now, if you’ve flown through Doha before, you’re probably saying to yourself, “What’s so special about Doha… the airport feels like a bus depot.”

Well, this is true.  The Doha airport is a very small, bus station feeling kind of place.  BUT, it has some AMAZING food!  And frankly, food will ALWAYS trump décor. 

Now, this isn’t the first time I’ve raved about the food in the Doha airport and it certainly won’t be the last… But you have to be careful… if you ever end up in Doha, you don’t want to end up eating at the wrong place.

The first thing to keep in mind is that the Doha airport has two floors and they have a food court on each level.  I’ve never been to the food court on the first floor, so I don’t know what they have there, but if it’s anything like the upstairs food court it’s nothing to write home about… unless you really want to dine at an A&W or some other random fast food restaurant you’ve never heard of.

That said, take my advice and avoid the “food courts”. 

On the second floor, on the opposite end of the terminal from the food court you’ll find a cafeteria.  There isn’t really a sign and it’s around a corner, so you won’t actually see it right-a-way.  However, it is sandwiched between the Masque, Children’s play area, and Gate 16… so, if you follow the signs to one of those three, you’ll find the cafeteria I’m recommending.

And there you’ll find the best samosas, curries, and stews… and Mountain Dew.

Let me know if you ever check it out.

Day 1025: Back in the Saddle Again!

Well, I’m back in good-old Pakistan for my last 10 week sprint to the finish and apparently a lot has happened over here in the last three week.

Note to self: “In the future, I should probably read a newspaper while on R&R.” 

Lol, just kidding.

Anyway, despite all the worrying my friends and family have been doing over the last week or so, my trip back to Islamabad went incredible smooth… well, as smooth as three flights and 19 hours of travel can be.  

Compared to my routing last time (Belgrade-Istanbul-Abu Dhabi-Islamabad), which took MUCH longer on an incredibly uncomfortable airline, this trip was a dream come true!

This time around I was so intent on avoiding the airlines I used last time that I actually flew to Rome first, where I hooked up with Qatar Airways (a MUCH better airline) and flew to Doha and then Islamabad. 

The only disconcerting thing about my travels was the temperate of Islamabad when I arrived at 3:15am.  It was 80 degrees Fahrenheit outside. 

It’s going to be a REALLY hot 10 weeks.

Day 994: Second ‘Rest and Recuperation’ Trip (R&R)

Well… I am mere DAYS away from my second R&R trip and I am SOOOOO stoked!  This JohnPaul has earned some Grayson/Gilliam hugs and Serena kisses! 

And the timing of this trip could not have come at a better time because I’m really starting to feel the distance.  The other night I sat down to edit our monthly SchutzHappens family video and I was just dumbfounded.  The gravity of my time away hit me like a ton of bricks.  Both Grayson and Gilliam have grown up SO MUCH!  Grayson is such the little man… and Gilliam is very much a toddler… I’ve just missed so much.  Too much.  35 weeks is a VERY long time in the life of a dad.

It’s time to go home.

Now, don’t go feeling sorry for me… it’s not like I did those 35 weeks without a break.  They were broken up by my first R&R.  In reality, when I first arrived I did a 20 week stretch right out of the gate, which got me to Christmas for my first 3 week R&R.    Now, my second 15 week stretch in Pakistan is quickly coming to a close, leading directly into my second 3 week R&R.  And get this… when I get back… I’ll only have 10 weeks left in my tour.

I have to tell you… this descending 20-15-10 week schedule happened completely by accident.  When I arrived I had planned to take my R&Rs ever 15 weeks, which would have put my first R&R around Thanksgiving.  HOWEVER, too many people were already planning to take their R&Rs around Thanksgiving and due to coverage needs in the office we couldn’t let everyone go.  So, I quickly conceded my place in the Thanksgiving R&R block for the opportunity to take Christmas… essentially adding 5 weeks to the first stretch of my tour… and it was TOTALLY worth it!

Listen, 20 weeks is a LONG time.  However, knocking out that much time up front was great and honestly, this second stretch of 15 weeks was way harder than the first 20.  But that’s normal… from what people say the middle stretch is always the hardest.  Which makes sense if you think about it; the first stretch is easiest because it’s all fresh… so it’s easier to knock out a lot of time, while the last stretch is also easy because it’s your last.  The middle stretch is like a speed bump.

Anyway, even though this second stretch has been difficult, morale-wise, I can still feel and appreciate how this stretch is shorter than my last… and honestly… I can’t imagine only having 10 weeks left when I get back.  It’s either going to fly by or drag like a five year-old anticipating Christmas morning.  We shall see.

In any case, I am super excited!

Day 991: Cricket World Cup

Okay, so a few weeks ago I shared a goofy post regarding how difficult the sport Cricket is to understand… well I never gave up and I recently experience a breakthrough!

Last week I sat down to watch Pakistan vs. Indian in the semifinal match of the Cricket World Cup… and I was a man determined.  And you know what?  I understand the game!

I do!  I really do!  I don’t understand all the nuances of the sport, BUT I now understand enough to follow the score, understand what the announcers are talking about, understand all the crazy numbers at the bottom of the screen… and I even picked up enough to understand a bit of the strategy too.

And you know what?  I learned enough to appreciate the sport… all eight and a half hours of it.  It’s actually a pretty interesting sport once you know what’s going on.

And you know what?  I’d watch another match… I might even be included to go to a match.  Suriname has a team… perhaps I should start gearing up to be a fanatical Suriname Cricket fan. 

That could be epic.

Day 989: www.Library-Challenge.com

You know?  Throughout my travels I’ve run into a lot of non-profit organizations.  And I’m not just talking about my time with the State Department.  Even back when I worked for Cobb County my day-to-day contact with non-profits abounded!  I guess some things never change.

Anyway, non-profits come in a lot of different flavors and I’m a big fan of the smaller (more focused) non-profit mission.

And again, I think my preference for the ‘little guy’ comes from my time in Cobb County… not really pertaining directly to my work… but pertaining to Chick-Fil-A.  That’s right… a fast food restaurant. 

You see, Chick-Fil-A’s national headquarters is located in Cobb County, Georgia… and they’re upper level management are frequent guests and speakers at the numerous business association meetings around town. 

And I know what you’re thinking… “JP at a business association meeting?”  Yeah… it’s happened… numerous times…

Anyway, the theme of most Chick-Fil-A talks always focus on being unapologetically focused on your product and resisting the temptation to diversify away from what they are good at.  In their case: The Chicken Sandwich. 

The folks at Chick-Fil-A whole-heartedly believe that sticking to what your good at strengthens a company’s foundation… and the more you diversify the harder it is to maintain the integrity of the product that made you famous in the first place and eventually, your public persona/connection with that product will fade away.

So… what does that mean?  Well.  As long as Chick-Fil-A only serves chicken, the control the majority of the Chicken Sandwich market share.  Chains like McDonald’s and Burger King are forced to compete with them. 

HOWEVER, if Chick-Fil-A were to diversify and start serving hamburgers the scales would tip out of their favor.  They would end up having to compete with McDonalds and Burger King for a market share they don’t currently have… which could risk them losing their leading market share of The Chicken Sandwich.  Follow me?

As goofy as it may sound, there is a lot of truth to this theory.  I’m sure I’d have a lot more readers if I simply stuck to one topic… like family life… or Movies and Television… or life in the Foreign Service.  However, that would mean comparing SchutzHappens to Fast Food, when really; we all know SchutzHappens is more like a Fine Dining restaurant (with table cloths and everything) where patrons with exquisite taste come to sample the Chef’s Choice Menu. ;)

But seriously, Chick-Fil-A’s commentary on the Fast Food industry is easily projected onto non-profit charities.  There are some REALLY large mega-non-profits out there with incredibly huge and diverse portfolios of services.  Some of them are overwhelming to the point that you don’t really know what they do.  When donating your money, do you really know what it’s going towards?  Honestly, these really large non-profits end up being just like a normal company… bureaucratic red-tape machines with incredibly high overheads. 

However, in the spirit of Chick-Fil-A, when I find a smaller non-profit with a more focused mission, I get pretty excited, because in my opinion, they have the greatest chance of actually accomplishing what they set out to do and most importantly, the money I donate is more likely to reach the people I want to help (not the people implementing the program).

And this is why I REALLY like The Library Challenge (www.library-challenge.com).  They have a single focus: to restock the school libraries destroyed in the Pakistan Earthquake of 2005… and a number of these schools were also affected by last year’s Monsoon Flooding, which proved to be a significant setback for this organization.

Anyway, I’m not telling anyone to write a check or anything, I’m just planting a seed.  If, at the end year you’re looking for a tax deduction… think about taking the challenge.

Day 988: Women’s Sports Day

Yeah…

So… I… umm… I’m not really sure how to describe this… I tried to find the video segment I saw on the local Pakistani News but I couldn’t and I’m afraid my description won’t do the story justice, but I’ll give it a try.

Yesterday, I watched a news segment about a group of Women’s Colleges in Pakistan who came together for a “Women’s Sports Day”. 

And of course, being very American, I start thinking about Field Hockey, Soccer, Lacrosse, and other various team sports women normally play at universities… in the States.

What I found in the news segment wasn’t even close to what I was expecting.

First, the women were all wearing very traditional Pakistani garb… which wasn’t surprising given the fact that I’m in Pakistan, but it certainly didn’t give me a “Sport’s Day” feel.

But that doesn’t really matter anyway, because the three ‘sports’ features in the segment didn’t really give me a “Sport’s Day” feel either: Traditional Dancing, Tug-O-War and Musical Chairs.

That’s right folks… Musical Chairs. 

Listen, given how conservative the Pakistani culture is as a whole, I completely accepted Traditional Dancing and Tug-O-War… and if the segment has stopped there I would never have written about it… but Musical Chairs? 

My elementary school’s ‘field day’ had some really crap-tastic events in it, but we NEVER competed in Musical Chairs.

But, the inclusion of Musical Chairs made the story blog worthy.

And I don’t know what the “Women’s Sports Day” planning committee has in store for us next years, but might I suggest a Cake Walk and perhaps a Pie Eating Contest.

Day 987: Fatigue, Focus… and Eye Strain

Well… the Pakistan day count has now reached 250, which is roughly eight and a half months. 

For the most part it hasn’t been too bad, but the pace does get a bit tiring sometimes.  Twelve to fourteen hour a day, six to seven days a week for eight and a half months starts to get to you every once and a while.    

Fatigue and focus seems to come in waves… there is a certain ebb and flow to everything here. 

Physically, everyone seems to crash at some point, needing to take a few days to recharge; which is why I try to take Sundays off as my personal day… it doesn’t always happen, but I try.

However, even if you’re able to keep your body strong and are able to keep pace, there is only so much your mind can take… and focus starts to become a problem.  Not a major problem… but on my lack of focus days I’m certainly not as productive as I normally am… and between you and me, I actually enjoy my lack of focus days quite a lot. 

You see, I’m an ‘eat at my desk’ kind of guy (a bad habit, I know… but it’s the truth).  I can sit down at my desk at 7am and stay there until 6 or 7pm completely engaged in my work.  However, on my focus-break-down days… I’m more likely to organize a lunch at the American Club with friends, head to the gym, take a walk (the weather right now is amazing!), and sometimes I’ll even grab my Kindle, find a bench somewhere on the compound, and just read for about 20 or 30 minutes.  In short, the lack of focus can be quite energizing in the long run.

Although, there is one thing that popped up about a month ago that I can’t quite shake… the eye strain.  I am constantly suffering from eye strain headache… mild headaches, nothing serious enough to medicate… and I’m probably feeling it more now because allergy season has reared its ugly head… but seriously, between work and home, I’m probably staring at a computer screen fifteen hours a day… and that can’t be healthy.

But, at the same time, there isn’t much else to do.  I only have about 100 days left in this little adventure of mine… when I’m back with the boys it’s not like I’ll be Skyping anymore… so my average daily screen time will drop drastically.

So… here’s to my final 100!  And hoping my eyes don’t fall out of my head!