You know? It’s actually starting to cool off a bit and it’s really nice. During the day we’re averaging temperatures in the middle to high 70s and at night it’s actually dipping into the 40s. I love it. We’re having beautifully comfortable days and cozy nights perfect for curling up under a blanket to watch a movie… if only Serena and they boys were available to cuddle.
Now, I’ll admit, temperatures in the 40s are cold. Being a southern boy from the States, I normally break out my Member’s Only Jacket once daytime temps start dipping into the low 60s or 50s… and I’ll probably dig out a more substantial winter coat once daytime temperatures are consistently in the 40s.
The key word here is ‘daytime’. Low temperatures, of course, occur in the middle of the night. Normally between 2 and 4am. Although it dips into the 40s here… by the time 8 or 9am rolls around, we’re back up in the 60s… and by lunch time the 70s. Sure, a light jacket might be in order some morning… but not often.
That said, I am amazed at the number of people wearing Parka’s in the middle of the afternoon over here… and this trend started about a month ago when daytime temperatures were still in the 80s. Now, Serena wasn’t surprised at all. When she lived in Kenya, it was very common for locals to bundle up when the temperatures dropped in the slightest ways… but Kenya lies in the torrid/tropical climate zone. Islamabad lies in the temperate climate zone… and more importantly, Islamabad falls on the 33rd parallel. Do you know what other city falls on the 33rd parallel? My home town… Atlanta, Georgia. Discovering that piece of trivia was eye opening to me. Especially the fact that Islamabad sits at a much higher elevation as Atlanta… which would suggest lower temperatures… but it’s hotter here and culturally folks are much less equipped to handle cooler weather.
Beyond wearing Parka’s in the middle of the afternoon, once the sun goes down it is very common for locals to light fires for additional warmth. These fires with rage throughout the night… and by morning the city is pretty thick with smoke… and my clothes often smell like I’ve even been roasting marshmallows all night... er… more like ‘baking’ marshmallows… if you catch my drift… wink-wink nudge-nudge.
Hmmm… that joke may have gone over your head, let me explain.
You see, to fuel these fires, local Pakistani’s will burn anything lying around… wood… brush… weeds… weed… did I mention weed? Grass, ghanja, Indiana ditchweed, pot… or let me be more specific: marijuana.
Now, I’ve never been into drugs… but I did go to college… and I studied theatre… so, I would be lying if I said I didn’t know what pot smelled like… and folks… in the wintertime… Pakistan smells like pot. A lot of pot. It’s pot city up in here.
From the moment I wake up in the morning to the time I go to bed at night, its pot, pot, pot. Seriously… Californians should move here. This entire city has to be on one giant contact high… which would explain why I’m always hungry.
Dang it! I just want a box of Girl Scout cookies! Is that really too much to ask for?!?
