An Artist in Lahore, Pakistan

Home 'SWEET' Home

2008-09-12T20:10:00.000-07:00

Good flights, good in-flight food and all on time.

Got home about 14:30, completely exhausted but the box of sweets travelled well and survived the long journey.

Got lots of ideas for paintings, drawings and even some raku sculpture... if only I can find the time?

Roast chicken dinner followed by home made trifle.

Mmmm.... its good to be home.

Last day of Lahore

2008-09-11T23:49:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast.

Caught rickshaw (it wasn't green) as far as Tollington Market then walked to NCA.

Nazaish the head of the college was in a big meeting so I left her a copy of the DIY artists book at reception.

Said my goodbyes to Qudsia and Imran and convinced him to let me continue using his phone for the rest of the day, I promised to leave it at the hotel reception on my departure.

Made my way to Beedon Road in search of the sweet shop, buying other gifts along the way.

I started at the bottom of Beedon Road this time and was rewarded with a medium variety box of sweets. As he wrapped it in lovely decorated paper I commented that it was 'bahut sunhaa', which according to my tour guide at the fort means 'very beautiful'. The shopkeeper was so impressed by my description that he handed back Rs50.

I walked back to the hotel via the printing district, contemplating the chances of me ever taking this route again.

At the hotel, I checked in with my flight online before heading out on a mission to The Old City.

My plan was to start at The Delhi Gate and move across the city to the other side. I took my compass/watch as a safety precaution. With The Delhi Gate behind me at the South Eastern side of the city, I headed due West, into the maze.

Inside the walls, it was Medieval and very busy with lots of people packing the narrow streets.

It was cooler with lots of shade and much quieter than outside, with few cars able to get down most of the alleyways.

Most of the traffic was pedestrian and the exchange of goods from warehouse to shop was done by balancing large wicker basket plates on the heads of delivery boys.

I found myself in an area of shoe shops which seemed to go on forever. It was noisier there with men carrying deliveries of shoes at great speed, dodging the customers whilst trying to keep their momentum and balance the heavy loads.

I got caught in a traffic jam of baskets as a man pulling a small cart stopped in the middle of a narrow street. The noise level increased as they all shouted to encourage him to move quicker with his cart full of shoe boxes. The deliveries were stuck as I searched for a chance to escape the situation. I squeezed into a shop space and with everyone else frozen by their heavy loads, I managed to get a quick photo of the blocked artery.

The whole experience of The Old City is a complete attack on the senses.

Like a funfair to a child, stimulation overload but longer lasting than any thrill ride.

The Old City, with its ancient texture and colour is the perfect backdrop for capturing everyday life, from Naan Bread makers to drum workshops.

I passed close to Bad Shahi Mosque and exited onto Ravi Road near Data Darbar Shrine on the West side of the wall. The noise, heat and traffic pollution is felt instantly as you step out of the shade and onto the busy road.

During the rickshaw ride back to the hotel, I noticed the 'sacred horse' that Nazerkat and Ali mentioned the other day. I indicated to the driver that I was ok to get out here and waited by a busy junction for the horse to pass.
Back at the hotel, I ordered Bhujia and Mutton Ginger Handi with Roti. It was an awesome last meal in Lahore and its the first time I've left some Roti since I've been here.

Just been down to check emails. I'm starting to slip back in to UK mode: thinking about work and other projects... back to the grindstone soon. I took a self portrait of my reflection in the office window.I heard from Michael and Karoline about a Sufi Drumming event, which is happening tonight at Regal Chowk, which is near the bottom of Beedon Road.

I went round to investigate but couldn't find the place. I wandered around the busy junction for about 45 mins and was just about to give up when I heard a voice calling my name from the crowd across the road.

It was Nazir, the omelette man from the NCA. I tried explaining my predicament but his English is worse than my Punjabi. He suggested buying me an ice-cream and a cup of tea and introduced me to some of his friends. Non of whom knew of the drumming event.

After showing me around Regal Chowk, I explained to him that 'I must go and catch my plane'. I asked permission to take his photo and he rushed over to the flower stall to pose before ushering me into a rickshaw and explaining to the driver that I worked for NCA.

Got back to hotel at 10:30 which was a good job too, it took me 40 mins to fasten my suitcase.

I left some things for the cleaners: my training shoes, toiletries, chewing gum, crisps, notepad, pens, sellotape and the bottle of Dettol... and lots of Rs with a note saying thank you.

First time I've had socks on for three weeks.

I left the hotel around 00:45hrs. I noticed the reception smelled of the same toxic fumes, which woke me the other morning. The staff were not fazed by me holding my nose whilst checking out.

The taxi ride was fast and furious, crazier than any rickshaw ride.

My feet were aching as I sat in the departure lounge at the airport, probably all the walking I've done just recently and in those beach sandals too.

I doodled a map of Lahore whilst waiting for my flight...

St Georges Embroidered Apple Pie

2008-09-10T22:14:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast.
Caught rickshaw to the G.P.O. to mail the postcard paintings back to the UK. I sent them in envelopes to protect the delicate nature of the watercolours. I called them the 'Record & Dispatch Series-Lahore Pakistan'. Who knows... maybe I'll do some more in another place one day?
The postcards are addressed to my studio at the school in Bradley with instructions for receivers to record the image in any way and dispatch when done. It was busy in the roomy post office with lots of counters. I managed to get through the whole process quickly and smoothly then headed to NCA to pay back the money I borrowed from the mini-bus driver last Monday on our trip to Jhelum.
I called in the miniature studios and gave Nazerkat some gifts for looking after me during my stay: a D.I.Y. artists book, a pigeon DVD and a baseball cap for Tidal Properties. Ali Noor hadn't arrived yet so I left his gifts with Nazerkat.
I went to Anarkali Bazaar to buy gifts for my family back home. I enjoyed the frie ndly bartering as I bought 9 heavily embroidered ladies tops in a variety of colours and sizes. He sat me down and we chatted about my visit to Lahore as he sent his son to neighbouring shops to get the sizes he didn't have. We talked about my work at the NCA and he gave me a discount for 'educating his nation'.
I made my way through the bazaar and was taken by some tiny little shoes with curled up toes. I ended up buying the little ones and three more larger pairs, which were exquisitely decorated.

Loaded up with carrier bags, I waddled in the direction of the hotel, enjoying the spectacle of everyday life in Lahore.
I had to drink plenty of water as the bags were heavy in the heat. I saw a crate of small finches for sale, I took a quick photo while the salesman was resting in the shade.
I was surprised to see the gates to the cathedral open, so I wandered inside the grounds. It is called St Michaels Cathedral Church of The Resurrection. There were lots of children in the grounds, all smartly dressed in school uniform as the St Georges flag flew high on the top of the building.

It felt surreal inside the huge building, like I'd somehow stepped into England.
Rashid, who had worked at the cathedral since 1962 was more than happy for me to take some pictures as he told me about the two different services provided for the huge congregation.
One service in English and one service in Urdu, both are full to capacity and he explained that it can get very hot during a service, which is why they have installed the overhead fans down the aisles.
I tried to find the old sweetshop that Imran had taken me to on Beedon road but I ended up drifting into an area of printers, where the workers used hand powered machinery to print anything from newspapers to bottle labels. Back at the hotel, it was nice to have a shower as my feet had collected a lot of dust from my back alley investigations.

Had Bhujia and roti, followed by warm apple pie and ice-cream.

Just packed my suitcase ready for tomorrow.

Glass Cash Bangle Labyrinth

2008-09-09T23:12:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast.

Walked to the bank near the G.P.O. but no joy using my credit card.

Caught rickhsaw to Citi-bank and still no use, the ATM were not recognising my card details. After ringing my card company, they informed me that almost all the ATMs in Pakistan are unable to read the chip on cards.

After much discussion, they agreed to over ride the chip and that I would be able to draw some cash after lunch. Its all very frustrating. I was distracted for a couple of minutes watching a professional graffiti artist earn his living in advertising.

I rushed into NCA for tutorials and Nazerkat was the only one who turned up. We had another of our long chats about his paintings and about post graduation networking strategies.

Checked e-mails in the coolest (temperature wise) room in Lahore then I collected my prints etc from the gallery.

Got some cash from ATM at the bank (YAHOO!!) and returned to NCA to find the minibus driver who helped me out on the trip to Jhelum but he wasn't around.
I wandered through Anarkali looking for a chemist to get some antiseptic cream for my swollen stings.

Having trouble explaining my situation to the shopkeeper, it was easier to pick up a bottle of 'Dettol' and pay the man. I'll keep an eye on the stings and if they get worse I'll go see a doctor.

I went back to the shop to buy the toy rickshaw and also bought other gifts to take home.

I was taken by a dazzling display of glass bangles, every colour of the rainbow was glittering in stacks of the delicate jewelery. Deciding they would make excellent gifts, I enquired about a price and the man said Rs40. I chose 4 different colours and he happily wrapped up 4 different stacks of bangles. How naive of me, I thought the price was per bangle but it was for a full tube of them. What a bargain but could be a problem getting them home.

I got five leather wallets for Rs1000... another bargain.

I also learned that I hadn't actually been going to Anarkali Bazaar during my wanderings.

I stumbled across it today by accident, it was magical, an Aladdin's Cave, crammed full of shimmering jewelery and sparkling clothing. It reminded me of the Victorian indoor market halls or arcades but without any tall space above. An underground tunnel, a maze of colour, gold and silver all changing from one stall to the next.

When I reached the walls of the Old City, the traffic was jammed with rush hour.

I decided to follow the wall around as it was in the direction (vaguely) of my hotel. There were a variety of single mule carts pulling very long loads of steel cable.

I gawked at the shops recycling engine parts, boys cleaning ball bearings in all sizes as the men tinkered with huge engines.

It was hot, dusty and noisy on the busy road and I was tired. I drifted into the Old City through a large gateway. It was another labyrinthine experience and reminded me of Venice but without the canals and only one tourist... me.

I got lost several times so decided to keep the sun on my right. I bought some lemonade and was encouraged to sit and rest in front of the shopkeepers air-con unit before continuing. A group of young lads were hanging out in a small games arcade next door.
Back at the hotel, I had Mutton Ginger Handi in the restaurant, it was brilliant. I think there were some people actually enjoying the rooftop barbecue this evening.

All my postcards are ready to send in the morning.

Haven't had time to organise photos today... too busy wandering around town, drifting.

Grand Trunk Fortress Brick Farm Sting

2008-09-08T11:51:00.000-07:00

Woke to the smell of thinners in my room at 7.35am.

Thought I was dreaming at first then started worrying about toxic poisoning so got up to investigate. It was foggy outside so thought it was perhaps coming from outside in the street. I grabbed my camera and went up onto the roof but it was nice and fresh up there.

As I made my way back down to my room it became obvious that the smell was strongest on the stairwell.

I closed the fire door on my landing and turned my air con off and turned on the bathroom extractor fan, eventually clearing the room. Think they must have been doing some work in the building somewhere?

Omelette for breakfast.

At the bank, they told me that American Express has ceased to operate throughout Pakistan due to the current political climate. I tried the ATM and after running around between different banks I finally rang my credit card company to find that their system was down.

I am stuck for cash.

Fortunately the driver (Arif) of our mini-bus loaned me some cash to put me on for the next few days, how embarrassing. Nazerkat and Ali accompanied me on the trip, the girl from Jhelum wasn't feeling well so couldn't join us.

The long journey along the GT (Grand Trunk Road) was fabulous, a real kaleidoscope of Pakistani life.

School bus 'non-stops'...
It felt like being on a motorway with pedestrians and animals at every junction and places in between. 'Road Safety' is not part of public consciousness.

There was a variety of cargo being transported via this major transport artery.

I remember one of the children at the school back home telling me about The Tulip Hotel near Jhelum so when I saw it, I knew we were close.

Jhelum itself is actually a bustling city running at full speed along the side of the river Jhelum.

I was impressed with the traffic wardens as they cleared up parking violations.

With small colourful fruit sellers under canopies.

We drove down by the water and saw makeshift houses on the banks of the river.
Afterwards, we drove out of the city to nearby Rhotas Fort, a breathtaking 12 mile perimeter wall, 100ft high in places and about 20 ft thick. A community of people still live inside the walls and accommodate tourism with a guide book and drinks kiosk.The driver took a rest under a tree while Nazerkat, Ali and I wandered around for an hour.
The space inside the walls was so vast that at times it was hard to comprehend being inside a fortress. Small cattle roamed freely and there was a deep well, which had been cut into the rock many years ago, creating a long stairway down to a natural water source.

I suggested climbing onto the walls to get a better view of the terrain and the well.I put my bag on the wall while Nazerkat took my photo and when I picked it up, I must have disturbed a hornets nest.I heard a sound like crackling crisp packets around ears then sharp stabbing pains on my shoulders, hands and ears. Then I heard Nazerkat's voice screaming loud and clear... 'Run Mr William... RUN!!'

I burst into a sprint, flapping my arms around my head until I no longer heard the crackling sound. I ran around the corner, past Ali and dropped down the wall at great speed and into the clearing.

Nazerkat was first on the scene, he had run back along the wall and down the steps. I was shaking and the stings were already quite swollen. Nazerkat recalled a childhood incident where he had a reaction to a sting and was starting to panic. I reassured him that I was ok and not allergic to bee stings, even though they were about 3 inch long.

Ali couldn't believe how quickly I'd descended the wall, so the next 10 mins was about my interest in Fell Running (mountain running). Looking back at the wall, I couldn't remember how I'd done it either.

We carried on our tour, taking pictures of royal buildings and tiger pits, all the while Nazerkat was still shaken by the incident.

I could hear the distant rumblings of thunder to the north of our position or was it the trouble in the Northern territories?

We stopped at a brick factory outside the walls of the fort and the workers agreed to let us have a look around.

It really is fascinating how they work the land...

just like a farmer using crop rotation systems.

I tried to get snaps of the whole process from mixing the soil and water...

to packing and turning the moulded bricks...

to stacking and firing the huge land kiln.

I could have stayed watching them for days, it really was a humbling experience.

On the way home, it was dark when we stopped for Iftar and a meal at a posh restaurant on the GT road. We all ate chicken dishes of my choosing and Ali insisted on paying.

I made sure the driver was ok to take Ali home after dropping me off at my hotel at 10pm.

Absolutely exhausted, with swollen fingers, shoulders and ears, it was truly an amazing adventure.

As my guide from Lahore Fort, Mohamad Ashraf would say... Maza Agya!

Dangerous Cricket Nectar Drinkers

2008-09-07T23:50:00.000-07:00

Breakfast at 9.45... I had omelette, toast, lemon tea whilst watching a game of cricket from my window.

All the local young men were strategically positioned in the street while the older men sat on benches watching in the shade of the trees. There was a group of young children mimicking the batsmen as they played behind the wicket keeper.

They whacked the ball high passed my window to the cheers of the gathering crowd. The traffic is part of the game as it zigzags its way through the community sports field, honking at stubborn fielders.When a batsmen is judged out, the players all gather around the umpire (an elder) in frantic debate, usually followed by cheers and applause. The youngsters take advantage of the commotion to practice their swing in front of the wicket: made from two empty crates stacked on top of one another.

So there is definitely more important things in local life than flour... CRICKET! They had used flour to mark out the boundary lines of the cricket field around the wicket and along the road. Probably the same flour that the women had suffered for the other day.

Later, I caught a rickshaw to NCA then strolled around to the college hostels, expecting to find the students playing cricket. It seems almost all the young men of the city were playing cricket on the streets today.

Surprisingly, there was no one about so I sat on a bench overlooking the empty sports field and noticed some small yellow birds darting about in the overhanging trees.

They appeared to be drinking nectar from the flutes of the flowers and reminded me of humming birds but they were not hovering and they are probably too big. I've got a couple of decent pix to send home to have them identified by a bird watching relative.The afternoon was hot and humid and a few specks of rain encouraged me to set off walking back to the hotel. I did plan to walk all the way back but as I reached the junction where the Mall crosses Lower Mall Road, a rickshaw pulled alongside me and I automatically said 'Gullistan Cinema'?

I called at the sweet shop where the young assistant was getting somewhat desperate with me. 'You from UK, you give me gift' was his mantra as he kept looking around to make sure other members of staff didn't hear his pleas. He looked puzzled when I asked ' what for?'. His pushy attitude made the sweets taste a little sour.

Back at the hotel, I checked my e-mails from people who are responding to my 'e-postcards from Lahore'. It took me over an hour to respond to them all and made me think about life back home.

The chef made conversation as I sat at the computer in the hotel foyer, asking me what sort of food I enjoyed. I told him that I like Samosas but noticed they weren't on the menu. He immediately disappeared to the kitchen and 5 mins later returned with a plate for me to sample his fresh samosas with a tomato dip. They were lovely and light, not greasy at all. I thanked him for his kindness and ordered Daarl with Roti to be sent to my room.

When it arrived, I had already started some more postcard paintings.

They are of some pigeons which I had seen from the rooftops.

The Daarl was more like the one I get back home in texture but much tastier.

Gonna call home then get an early night, got a very busy day tomorrow, going to Jhelum. Need cash from bank before getting to NCA for 9am, which could be impossible as I don't think banks open until 9am. Oh dear.

Deserted Low Budget Mutton Kharahi

2008-09-06T23:46:00.000-07:00

Bhujia for breakfast.

Outside my hotel, I was haggling with a couple of rickshaw drivers about the fee to the NCA this morning. Each time it has been around Rs40 to Rs60 for the short ride but today one asked for Rs100 so I started walking away and shaking my head (still smiling of course) and he got quite agitated and started shouting. Immediately the porter, the doorman and an armed guard came to help translate my destination and all was calm as I handed over Rs60 to the laughing driver.

I popped into the gallery to swap the monitor speakers around, installing the strongest pair on the Demolition Street videos.

The staff at the NCA architecture Dept were pleased to see me, I'd met them earlier in Liverpool at a conference about sustainable design. There were over 30 students who wanted to see me so I decided it best to have a quick look at individual works then talk briefly about the creative processes adopted by artists and architects.
Surprisingly, I felt much more comfortable with this dept. than I did with the Fine Art dept. Which is probably more to do with my own spatial practice than the dynamics of the group.

Nazerkat and some other students are planning to take me to Jhelum, which is where some of the young school children are from at a primary school in the uk.

They had to get authority from Naizish, the head of NCA. I went to meet them at reception and instead met a German girl called Karoline, who was nervously waiting to be interviewed for a teaching assistant post.

She was a lone traveller, like Michael the American and she'd been all around the Swat Valley and the Northern Territories of Pakistan. She's very brave going to all those volatile places alone, and with blonde hair too, she stood out like a sore thumb.

Nazerkat arrived and he completed the necessary forms to allow a minibus driver to take us to Jhelum and Rhotas Fort this coming Monday. A girl who is from that area has agreed to join us and says it will take around 2 hours on The GT (the Grand Trunk Road).

Another student who will be going with me is Ali Noor (or Noor Ali) and he arranged for me to get some phone top-up cards at lunch time.

I then set off to find a bank to cash my travellers cheques, without any luck, they had all closed at 13:30. I now have to think about the next two days budget as I'm running low on Rs.

I caught a rickshaw to the big art centre: Alhamra Arts Centre. It was about a mile along The Mall Road. I bartered with the driver for a Rs20 reduction, I'm getting more comfortable at doing it.It is a large complex, set in lawned gardens and as you enter through the front gates on Mall Road, the exhibition gallery is the building on the right.
There was a collection of calligraphy on display in the a large foyer but as I ventured up the curving stairs it became clear that there hadn't been any substantial exhibition for some time. The exhibition space is made up of two large foyer entrances connected by an upper floor of different sized exhibition spaces.
I walked alone through the many spaces, taking pictures of dusty dark rooms all the way to the other side of the building (another foyer). I heard one of the men, who had been sat chatting to three others in the foyer heading towards me through the space, so I drifted back towards them. He explained that there was no exhibition on at the moment.

I smiled, nodded and went back out into the heat.

I walked in the direction of my hotel and soon came upon The Holiday Inn, close to my hotel. Realizing my position, I went to McDonald's but it was closed, probably due to Ramadan.

I detoured around to the sweet shop for some bottle water and then came back to the hotel.

At reception, there was dust everywhere and a few workmen on ladders working in the roof. I casually asked what was happening and the clerk (even more casually) replied 'nothing'.

I went to gym for 40 mins and whilst there, I made a decision to take the plunge and try some meat.

Sent email images of painted postcards to friends and family, its quicker than snail mail eh.

Whilst I was on the computer in the foyer, I chatted with the chef about my decision to try a meat dish. After all, I've been here for two weeks now and the culture shock book which I read on the way, recommends a period (2 weeks)of vegetarian food until I got used to the hot climate.

Feeling like a treat, I asked him what his specialty dish is and he replied... 'Italian'.

I couldn't believe it, apparently he'd served his time in an Italian restaurant in Germany and recommended I try his pasta or steak. I pushed him further for his Pakistani specialities and he replied 'either Mutton Rogan Josh or Mutton Kharahi.

I plumped for the Mutton Kharahi and it was amazing, very tasty and that was almost 2 hours ago and no ill effects yet.

From the south window, I can see fireworks going off over Government House. I've been videoing activities on the rooftop restaurant of the Holiday Inn for the last hour. Using the digital zoom on the camcorder gives it a nice 'painterly' quality.

Earlier, I had been sketching Black Kites as they scoured the landscape for their next meal.

I'm looking forward to a lazy start tomorrow, I might go for a stroll, we'll see?

Note: need a glue stick.

Motion Motorcycle Abstraction Exhibition

2008-09-05T03:34:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast... room service told me my order before I could say it this morning, am I really a creature of habit? I think they still can't understand why I only have Bhujia as a main meal. Perhaps it's like someone ordering peas and carrots for a Sunday Lunch?

Arrived at NCA at 10.30am, the monitors look ok and the DVDs work fine.

The Mapping Workshop was a quiet one, most students seemed uncomfortable talking about their homework, which was to complete last weeks maps. We discussed about six pieces of work, from detailed information routes to abstract notions of space.
I talked to the students about my work and how it can help to explore ideas of navigation and mapping, then we all went to the Gallery for the opening. It was busy with about 30 students from the architecture dept. and Fauzia (head of Arch. Dept.), who I'd met in Liverpool was there too.

They all seemed very interested in the videos and a group of print students were asking about print facilities in the UK.

A student who is hearing impaired really connected with the interviews of Bright St. residents where I have edited out the verbal narrative, leaving only facial expressions for audience interpretation. That is something I had not considered when editing the footage, how interesting.
Nazir (seen in the background of the above picture) fetched my usual omelette sandwich for lunch and I ate it under the shady recesses of the building, out of the way of others who may have been fasting.
I was back at the hotel by 12:30 with 3 bottles of water and another box of sweets. I chose my favourites this time, Ghulab Jamon and Patisa... Mmm.
Tidied up pix folders on laptop then put the movie channel on while I played around with another postcard painting. It was an abstract picture from a night-time shot from a moving rickshaw of some passing motorcycles. I love the actual photograph and the little painting looks ok as an abstraction.
At about 4:30 this afternoon it went very dark outside as another dust storm battered the city. It was difficult to distinguish whether it was rain or swirling dust. The gales got stronger until eventually giving in to violent thunder and lightening, bringing with it a torrential downpour and even stronger gales.

A post/pre-election political banner, which was installed on a building just outside my window the other day was shredded and hanging off the wall.
I couldn't make my mind up tonight whether to have the Daarl or the Bhujia but the old favourite Bhujia won in the end. Think I'm tired.

Just off downstairs to check emails then I'll call home at 10pm.

There is someone using the computer downstairs so I'll wait until tomorrow at NCA. I'm due to see a large group of final year architecture students at 10am.

I should have time to visit the large art centre and top up my phone in the afternoon.

Local Transformation

2008-09-04T23:40:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast and set off for NCA at 8.30am.

Surprisingly, I didn't catch a rickshaw until I was almost at the end of McLeod Road. The drivers who stopped all struggled to understand my directions, plus there didn't seem to be many green rickshaws about (only unleaded 'green' rickshaws are allowed in the area surrounding the NCA and the museum). Its a government initiative for a cleaner environment and it does make a difference, the air does appear somewhat clearer.

I found Mohamed Fariq (gallery guard) and persuaded him to dig out an interesting glass cabinet which was buried beneath years of dusty paraphernalia in his storeroom.

After a good dusting down, we played around with the arrangement of prints inside the glass case.

We installed two monitors to display the collection of video's. On one monitor I will put the 'Spaceplace' DVD: a collection of pigeon displacement documentaries. The other monitor will show the 'Demolition Street' interviews, which links nicely to the prints. I will go in early tomorrow to set them up before the student workshop on mapping, which is scheduled for 10am.

After playing around with exhibition ideas in the gallery, I gave some tutorials to final year miniature painting students, their work is of a very high standard.

Afterwards, I walked up through Anarkali Bazaar to buy the toy rickshaw model, which I saw in a shop window for 150Rs. When I got there, I was surprised to see it was actually priced at Rs450.

I love it around that area, there are lots of different craftsmen using different materials: from bamboo ladders to engine parts.

Needless to say, I came away empty handed but have since realised that my value of the Pakistani rupee has changed since arriving. Rs450 is less than £2.50 and yet I acted like it was a lot more... for that moment, I was thinking in local economic terms. I was obviously comparing the price of the toy to other local resources like food, drink and rickshaw fares and not to pounds sterling. Could this be the first sign of me becoming 'local'?

I walked down dusty alleyways through more colourful bazaars until I caught a rickshaw back to Gulistan.

Before setting off, the driver called to a young boy who was hanging around in a doorway. He ran to join the driver in the front, hanging on to side of the vehicle as we sped along uneven roads and dodging the potholes.

The boy (about 12/13 yrs old) was trying his best to communicate with me in English. He spoke about himself going to the UK and me being his sponsor and that I would need to go Islamabad to register as his sponsor. Not wanting to offend him or the driver, I pretended not to understand his desperate plea.

I called at the sweet shop, which is just one of a chain of stores called 'Gourmet'. I bought some 'Patisa' (see blog entry on 25.08.08) and some fruity oat cake and some blocks of yogurty fudgy stuff. They were all very nice but still not as good as the first batch.

Back at the hotel:

5.30pm- I went to the gym for 30mins then watched the men outside my window as they prepared for prayers at a nearby makeshift mosque.

The hotel had no Bhujia so they made me a Saag dish with potatoes, it was a nice change and I finished off the yogurty fudgy stuff for dessert.

Sorted through the days photos on the laptop whilst watching the 'Star Movies' channel, the films were in English so I just chilled out for the evening, thinking about how time has flown since arriving.

Note to self: must remember to visit the large art centre this weekend.

Dead Bodies

2008-09-03T22:16:00.000-07:00

Omelette for breakfast at 8.20, then dashed off to meet Qudsia to install my prints at the gallery at NCA.

She was nowhere in sight and the whole campus had been transformed into an entry examination event with lots of students concentrating on drawing a selection of wine bottles in a grid formation.

A member of staff informed me that the NCA can afford to impose such rigorous tests in order to get the 'cream' of available students due to their successful reputation. The examination stages include: Aptitude, Observational Drawing, Maths and finally an Interview.

Qudsia later phoned me to let me know that we couldn't use the gallery space until tomorrow, oh well... better late than never I suppose.

I forgot my hat in my rush to meet her so went to the computer room to check my e-mails and cool down a little. I have been negotiating the city via the cool shadows where possible.

I had scheduled some tutorials but only 3 students turned up. I didn't mind as they has been making some very interesting work. One student had been making casts from dead bodies, another was engaging in architectural approaches and the other one was empowering disenfranchised groups through his practice.

Afterwards I wandered through Anarkali Bazaar, I needed some Sellotape for the postcard envelopes.

I tried on many hats but didn't buy one.

I ended up browsing my way to The Lohari Gate at the walls of the Old City.

There were lots of shops selling clothes, souvenirs and toys etc. I bought a gold coloured scarf (Rs150) as a present for back home. I peered through a window at some toy rickshaws for Rs150 but it was closed (I must remember to go back when it is open).

I caught a real rickshaw back to Gullistan and called at the sweetshop, buying 4 more sweets and some bottled water.

Back in my room, I dozed off for an hour and woke up at 4pm. The sweets weren't as good as the others before but they were still pretty tasty.

I went up onto the hotel roof to get some more birds-eye view photos and managed to snap the boiler men taking a break in the shade.

Another member of the hotel staff was polishing the hotel buffet bowls, under a canvas sheet in an attempt to stay cool in the unrelenting sunshine.

Later on, I played around with another postcard painting based on a picture of some men on a carpet taken from the rooftop.

Time flew by as I worked on the painting whilst enjoying Bhujia and chapati.

As I checked my e-mails on the PC in the hotel lobby, I noticed a large group of people in the restaurant having their post fasting feast (Iftar).

Messages from home were from people worried about my safety,there has been a failed attempt to assassinate the Pakistani Prime Minister today and it was all over the world news. Will call home to let them know I'm safe then get an early night, I'm tired.

Almost forgot, I ordered an omelette at NCA last Friday and Nazir (NCA Runner Walla) disappeared so didn't get any lunch that day. Today when I was there, he turned up with it, informing me that the canteen closed early last week.

Flowers and Sweets

2008-09-02T23:48:00.000-07:00

Omelette, toast, jam and lemon tea for breakfast.

Tidied up yesterdays pix on laptop then set out to visit the huge Catholic Cathedral, which I can see from the rooftop. It was closed to the public and had barbed wire along the top of the walls and an armed guard on the gate.
I continued along McLeod Road until I reached The Mall Road, the G.P.O. was at the junction as I expected. I headed for Anarkali Market to buy a glue-stick for my journal updates, then went to NCA to email some pix home.

The open courtyard spaces were all decked out with large colourful gazebo's and prospective students were hard at work on their entrance exams. I met with Qudsia to discuss the exhibition installation arrangements: 2 x monitors for Demo St. and Pigeon displacement video's. I'm still unsure what to do with the Demo St. prints?
On my way home I called in at the sweet shop and selected some sweets, I think they were variations on Ghulab Jammon and also a piece of nougat. They were presented in a pretty fancy red box. They were very moist sponge type cakes (apparently made from cheese) and the nougat one was more like fudge with nuts... lovely. I ate all four in one sitting, well I hadn't had lunch.As soon as the sugar started to kick in, I began organising my journal and sticking things into it: tickets, receipts etc. I made three watercolour postcards based on the queuing women outside my window, who were queuing for flour. They look like microscopic organisms or cells, I will call them the flowers of Lahore.

I set up the video camera focused on a dead dove on a nearby rooftop and went to the gym for 45mins.

It was dark when I got back, I ordered some supper: 'Daal of the day' and practised my Punjabi numbers.

The daal didn't arrive and after two hours, I finally went down to investigate at reception. They insisted it would be ready in 5 mins after I'd told them it was too late to eat.

I gave them the opportunity to make up for my disappointment and it arrived in my room 10 minutes later, complete with the bill, needless to say, I didn't give a tip this time.

So much for an early night, got to meet Qudsia in the gallery at 9am tomorrow... ZZzzz!

Ancient Architectural Wonders

2008-09-01T19:50:00.000-07:00

Caught rickshaw to Minari-Pakistan, it was nice to breath the dust free air for a while. People were strolling about the gardens enjoying the peace, although I could still hear the rumble of traffic (and little dust clouds) which ran around the outer edge of the park, the road separating the monument from the Old City.
I could see Badshahi Mosque and decided to venture into the Old City. I entered the Mosque from a side entrance. A small room where craftsmen were carving intricately into a huge slab of stone. I was distracted from taking any photographs by a man pointing at my sandals. He knew I intended to enter and he reminded me to take off my shoes before doing so.

The heat inside the huge open space was unbearable as I made my way around the edges protected by the shadow of the wall. I met Shami (he said he was 69) who insisted on showing me around the inside, he buttered me up with his admiration for the English.

The picture shows him sat in a short corridor where he gave me a demonstration of the acoustics inside the mosque: humming gently, his voice seemed to be amplified around the marbled space. He also demonstrated successfully, the whispering arches that Imran had tried at Jehangirs Tomb.

Between Badshahi Mosque and Lahore Fort is a large square with a fine example of Sikh architecture in the middle. It can be seen in the picture below with the recently restored gates of the fort in the background.

I was greeted at the gates of the fort by a young man called Sohail Ashraf who (in perfect English) agreed to give me an informed tour of the fort for Rs300, he had an official tour badge, so off we went. It was very interesting with a lot of talk about different rulers and plenty of reference to British vandalism.

Sohail claimed that without a guide it is very easy to miss the 'Moti Masjid' (The Pearl Mosque) and I agree, it was hidden away with no clues as to what lay inside the crumbling walls.

Once inside, I was transported away from the heat and dust and enjoyed the coolness of white marble and although Sohail was keen to continue our tour, I insisted we stayed at Moti Masjid for at least 10 minutes.

The peaceful and tranquil space, which is a mini version of the Taj Mahal, installed by the famous architect himself Shah Jahan is my favourite place in Lahore so far.

Sohail taught me a couple of phrases: 'Bohat Khubsurat' (Urdu) & 'Bohat Sohna' (Punjabi) which means 'very beautiful' or 'pretty' and 'Maza Agya' which means 'I am extremely happy' and could be used in states of euphoria.... a cricket match perhaps?

Got back to hotel (via rickshaw) at 2:15, I had a banana from fruit bowl in room, like the lemons they are very small but not lacking in taste.

Went to McDonalds and called in at sweetshop but couldn't catch anyones serving eye so came out.

After a shower, I wore my shalwar kameez thingys. I feel quite tired now, maybe its the busy day I've had or could it be these pyjamas?

Note: laundry came back all present and correct.

Littorally

2008-08-31T10:12:00.000-07:00

Had Omelette for breakfast with Lemon Tea, the lemons are tiny and very strong.

Tidied folders on laptop as I observed life outside my window.

Decided to go for a walk to McDonald's, without my camera, watch and hat. It felt good to be without the baggage, although I did take my Punjabi Language book in a plastic bag.

It was still cool and cloudy after the rains during the night.

McDonald's was extremely busy with some sort of children's drawing competition coming to a climax. There were trophies for best in age group, bingo and a singing compere entertaining the crowds with ballads from Blue, Westlife and Take That. I ordered the special: a 'MacArabia' Meal (Rs290) which was two chicken burgers in a huge naan sandwich... is this authentic food?

It was absolutely crackin 't' flags on the way back, so I took shelter in a mini-mart called 'Banners' at Shimla Hill, to get out of the sunshine.

It was inexpensive compared to UK prices with a bar of Cadburys chocolate only Rs24. I grabbed a bottle of water and some Ghulab Jamon mix (a gift for back home) but the queuing system was totally confusing so I didn't bother and came out empty handed.

Instead, I called in the bakers, which I had looked around yesterday, I bought a bottle of water and enquired about the price of sweets: Rs5 each and gift wrapped too.

I took my bottle of water on a detour down a side street and noticed how the atmosphere changed dramatically as I wandered through filthy, stinking alleyways. It was the meat district, where butchers hung animals innards outside windows, looking more like giant squid than food products. The stench of raw meat was almost unbearable as I sneaked a glance at a row of skinned sheep's heads on a low stone slab, attracting a black mass of noisy flies above them.

Coming out of the shade and crossing the far end of Montgomery Road I headed down McLeod Road to Lukshmi Chowk then turned right up Mahmud Ghaznavi (Abbott) Road to the cinema (near my hotel). They were showing 'Singh is King' at 16:30, the attendants clock said 16:00 so I bought a ticket (Rs100) and sat in the cinema reading my Punjabi Language book.

The crowd was mainly men who laughed and sang all the way through it. There were a couple of power cuts which brought lots of booing and cursing from the crowd and stretched the film to 19:15. The movie itself was like a series of happy and carefree music videos and was a Bollywood romantic comedy, it was uplifting to hear men singing or whistling the tunes as the cinema emptied.

After a quick shower at the hotel, I had Alloo Bhujia for supper in the restaurant.

This evening, I said my first ' how are you?' in Punjabi. It was to the boiler man on the roof and he seemed amused at my attempts to communicate.

Note: I have sorted a small bag of laundry to see how effective the hotel laundry system is.

Dust Storms McDonalds Long Exposure

2008-08-30T21:38:00.000-07:00

With no plans for teaching today, I spent all morning sorting out all my photos on the computer, creating named folders in a bid to categorise the pix. Had to juggle some about from laptop to USB to make space on hard drive and may have to buy another USB device tomorrow.

Went for a walk about 14:00, just around the block to McDonalds. It was another hot but breezy day and after a 'Big Mac Meal' (Rs240) which is very cheap, I had my photo taken with Ronald himself (taken by an attendant).

As I came out, the sky was dark with swirling storm clouds above the golden M.

A quick look down the long straight road I could see bits of branches and rubbish swirling towards me. It wasn't raining but the dust was everywhere and cutting out the sunlight, growing darker.

I was only a few hundred meters from the hotel when the heavy downpour eventually burst from the heavy clouds, it was really refreshing and the hotel staff were fascinated at my reluctance to rush indoors: taking my time to enjoy it, eventually taking some pix from inside my fishbowl hotel room.

After getting in from the storm, I went straight into the gym, well my t-shirt was already soaking. I asked a hotel porter to switch on the lights, he then went into the changing rooms and came out dressed as a gym instructor, brilliant. He sat and watched TV as I warmed up on the Cross-Trainer and then had 40mins on the Treadmill.

I had some tea at 7pm: Shahi Dhaal it was very tasty, not like the smooth blended stuff, it had all the lentils still visible, giving it much more texture and the flavour was just brill.

Later, I went on the roof to get some night shots with my camera, its great up there.

Note: My USB memory stick is almost full, I may have to buy another soon? Note: I must remember to order breakfast in my room again tomorrow, much easier.

Mapping A Volatile Border

2008-08-29T23:48:00.000-07:00

Bhujia for breakfast , I love it.

Got to college for 10am to deliver the mapping workshop. It was challenging, what with the language barrier and the fact that most students were horrified at the thought of using a map to get around, let alone create one of the college campus.

I had been trying to locate my position for at least three or four days using my map of Lahore and their local knowledge, it was difficult as they rarely use them at all, relying completely on verbal directions e.g. go straight on and turn left at the GPO etc.

I set them the task of drawing a 15 minute journey map around campus, then expanding it to include parts of Lahore. They found it a real challenge and some simply couldnt do it but all seemed to enjoy the idea of navigating and maps as artwork. I set them some homework to complete their maps for the next session (next week).

I went to the gallery at NCA to discuss exhibition arrangements with Qudsia but she had to cancel. While I was there, I met a man called Mohamed Rafiq who, recognising my discomfort in the heat and humidity, insisted I sit in his wicker chair close to a huge fan, I gladly accepted his kind offer and we chatted for about 30 mins.

He gave me some old exhibition catalogues and I gave him a collection of postcards (information gift pack), which I had taken for Qudsia but as she wasn't there it made sense to give them to Mohamed. He has been the gallery assistant for fifteen years and has four young daughters and a son, they all keep him very busy.

There has been a commotion in the street below my hotel window all day. This afternoon it got a bit heavy, with women queing for something, possibly flour (saw something in the paper). Occasionally, chaos breaks out as men wade through the sea of colourful dresses. The women shaking white tickets in the faces of the men who push them aside (sometimes violently) while the women scream back at them.

There were also a select few women who helped to control the jostling crowd by beating them with big sticks, pushing them back behind a makeshift barrier of rope tied across the small side street. It is a mixed up world when I'm sat up here in my air-cooled room, eating my four star dinner watching a community fighting for handouts.

I went up onto the roof to take some pix and found some company to share the cruise ship themed environment.... the local pigeons. They are fascinating as they all have two bars on their wings.

There are the occassional white ones (with black heads), which local people dye the wings of and release to celebrate family events. In the west, we have about six different variations of feral pigeon patterns and colours due to the rogue racing pigeons who sometimes get lost and settle in feral colonies.

Ooh, I'll stop there before I get all pigeon geeky... maybe its too late for that?

This evening, Imran Q. & Imran M. accompanied me to see the changing of the flags at the India / Pakistan border gates.

It has become somewhat of a tourist attraction drawing crowds of a couple of thousand on both sides and happens every evening. It reminds me of a huge sports arena with a tall fence going through the middle, separating the respective supporters (and territories).

The guards guided us to the tourist entrance to get front row seats.

It was all very dramatic and even had cheerleaders to get the crowd going before the show started. Below is a picture of the older of the two cheerleaders chanting... 'Pa-ki-stan' clap clap clap.

The roar from the audience was echoed from the other side of the gates by the Indian crowd with their own demonstration of theatrical allegiance.

After all the aggresive marching, the gates were opened and the flags on both sides were changed in a mechanical robotic fashion, then the gates were slammed shut to the roar of the crowds.

Then we all (mainly tourists) clambered to get a photo in front of the gates with the proud border guards, who were almost as tall as the gates.

Footnote: I've had curry dishes for breakfast, lunch and dinner (tea) and even had some chicken too... who'd of thought eh?

The Wrong Trousers at Lahore Museum

2008-08-28T23:56:00.000-07:00

Met with Qudsia (curator) at the gallery to discuss possibility of an exhibition. We decided it would be possible to show the Intaglio 'house' prints and also install two monitors: one for the pigeon videos and one for The Demolition Street interviews. Qudsia's husband is an architect and she specialises in glass sculpture. They have lived in NYC until quite recently. She has invited me to dinner, to be arranged over the next couple of weeks.

Tutorials went well, they are some very ambitious students, it was uncomfortably hot and humid in the studios: I saw five from the list and one who tagged along.

I spent two hours in Lahore Museum: Rs100 plus Rs10 for the camera, entry is Rs7 for Pakistanis.

The place is crammed full of amazing artefact's which don't appear to be preserved, no humidity control and its like a sauna in some parts of the space. It is sad to see all the ancient manuscripts reduced to dust and crumbling pages within their glass coffins. It really is a national, if not a global disaster.

Most things had labels with descriptions but a many had no information at all.
Like this musical instrument display with a huge double bass thing laying flat on the floor.

It would be good to know what its Panjabi name is.

I bought a book about Lahore architecture from 'Kim's' bookshop outside the museum. The salesman spoke good English and assumed I was a UK Pakistani and gave me a reduction of Rs200, I didn't tell him why I was smiling as we shook hands. I'll use that one next time I'm bartering with a rickshaw driver.

I had Bhujia for tea before Nazerkat collected me for a trip to Lahore Fort Stadium Leisure Complex.

We went to see a movie called 'Ramchand Pakistani'. A story about a boy who wandered slightly over the Indian/Pakistani border and was arrested (along with his father) by the Indian border patrol. He was eventually released after many years in captivity and is based on a true story.

Although it didn't have subtitles, it was easy to follow the plot with Nazerkat offering to fill in the gaps here and there.

The cinema building had an earth quake theme to it, with the appearance of huge cracks on the outside walls. There are lots of shops at the complex and we browsed the windows for a shalwar Kameez for me. Nazerkat did the bartering and I purchased the posh looking set for Rs1000.

As the shopkeeper was wrapping it up, he asked if I knew how to use the belt and I shrugged smuggly and nodded 'Oh yes, of course'.

When trying them on back at the hotel, I realised they must have either given me the wrong size or there is some trick to making these fit me.

Hot Talk After Show Party

2008-08-27T23:15:00.000-07:00

Breakfast buffet this morning, I had beans, tomatoes and some tiny pancakes, they were beautiful, a bit like scotch pancakes.

I had arranged with Imran to deliver a talk about my art practice to 3rd/4th year students at NCA at 10.30. About 3 mins into the presentation, the power went off and we sat patiently, sweating in the increasingly hot lecture theatre.

After 30 mins we decided to postpone until 12noon, the heat was unbearable: it read 35 on my thermometer.

After the talk which included examples of my work, about 25 students signed up for tutorials, way more than I was expecting. I'm worried that I may not have time to see them all but will give it a go and make a start asap.

Tomorrow, I will also investigate the possibility of displaying some of my work in the gallery.

Made my way back to hotel on rickshaw, using broken Urdu/Panjabi that Imran had taught me and some numbers for negotiating a price. Kinah (how much?) to Gullistan Cinema (close to hotel) and acchaa (ok) for agreeing a price and when I want to get out of the rickshaw.

This evening, I went to an exhibition preview at Rohtas2 Gallery in Model Town. It was on the other side of the city and a group of students offered to drive me there. Loud music, some very fast driving and lots of giggles in the backseat as I tried my best not to look frightened by all the testosterone behind the wheel. They were a nice bunch though and tried to make conversation about my taste in movies, music etc. The boys liked the new Indiana Jones movie, the girls didn't.

The exhibition 'Lahore My Love' by Farida Batool was at the house of Salima Hashmi, herself an international artist and influential scholar in Lahore. The space was roomy with food and drinks available both inside and outside in the evening heat of the garden. I kept going in and out to catch the a/c inside, I still haven't got used to this heat yet.

The main work consisted of Lenticular prints which change visually as one moves around the space, giving a hologram type effect.

There was a clear theme of 'Conflict vs Peace' throughout the exhibition and obviously reflects the current political situation in Pakistan.

I saw Michael, the American backpacker who I'd met at Jahangirs Tomb, he explained that this is where he will be having his exhibition on the 9th Sept.

I shared a car with Masooma and Gwendolin (the driver), who took me to the aftershow party. Incidentally, I had seen Masooma's work in Blackburn at the Asian Triennial. Gwendolin was from Germany, she stopped by her house on the way, to collect some food and fresh juice.

I was concerned about how I would get back to the hotel but Masooma said her brother would drop me off nearer to town to catch a rickshaw, he was collecting her around 10pm.

I chatted to Salima (of Rohtas2 Gallery), who had worked in the north of the UK and could do a great northern accent. Masooma and her brother made sure I was in a rickshaw somewhere on the edge of the city. It took 25 mins to get home on one of the bumpiest rides yet, albeit slow, I thought the rickshaw was going to break down several times.

There was only nibbles at the party and I had skipped dinner in anticipation of a banquet.

I ordered Bhujia for my supper at the hotel Mmmm... just the job!

'Crackin 't' Flags'

2008-08-26T22:06:00.000-07:00

Still not sleeping well and only got about 4 or 5 hrs last night.

I don't feel too tired and decided to walk to the National College of Arts on yet another scorching day. I headed straight for the Internet suite, as I knew it would be cool in there, my flat cap was dripping wet.

I noticed the posters which Imran had made, informing the students about my lecture, they were scattered about the Fine Art Dept.

At lunchtime, I popped out to buy a top-up card for my phone at a kiosk across from Tollington Market. Fatma suggested I ask for 'Nazir Telenor Card' to avoid any confusion: a Rs10000 card.

The market has recently been restored but it wasn't open, apparently it is a very important heritage building.

I always walk under the shade of the trees and buildings where possible, its hotter than I've ever experienced anywhere, not that I've been to many hot places.

I need a new hotel with Internet access, so Imran and I spent the afternoon searching for one close to the college.

The Leaders Inn (in the cinema district) is perfect with the bonus of having a gym for me to go on the running machine.

It also has a rooftop pool/bar with a (triple deck) cruise ship theme. Its very posh and a real shame there was only me and the pigeons up there to enjoy it.
The service is good, along with the food and the views are useful for observing everyday life in Lahore.

I decided to take a break from evening culture and get some rest, so I had a meal in the restaurant. Bhujia (vegetable curry with chillies) and Paratha followed by chefs special Creme Caramel, both dishes were excellent.

The rooms are well made out including a safe, which means I can at least put my cash, passport etc. in there when I go out and about.
Watching a movie at the moment, looks like a comedy starring a rather camp singing hero. Its fascinating watching the facial expressions and the dancing... very funny.

Think it may be Bollywood?

In Search of Art... and Food

2008-08-25T23:44:00.001-07:00

Egg & toast, with strong milky tea for breakfast.

I went to The National College of Arts where I was given a tour by a lecturer, Fatma Syeed from print-making.

She explained that the building is British Colonial and is around 150 yrs old, it looks very impressive.

Fatma introduced me to the head of Fine Art, Mr Bashir Ahmad.
He was happy to talk to me about his craft as a skilled miniaturist painter and the motivation behind his work.
He also made some fascinating tiny bronze sculptures and is very highly thought of as an artist with international status, a real master craftsman.

Fatma insisted on paying for my lunch: an omelette packed with chillies, sweet green peppers and red onions accompanied with ice cold lemonade (a still drink made from powder) it was a fantastic meal.

I set off to buy some supplies: a notebook for Punjabi phrases, a 3 pin plug adapter for my laptop, camera etc. and a top-up card for the mobile phone that Imran had leant me. To use my 3G phone would cost me £1.80 per minute to call home whilst using Imran's phone cost me a fraction of that, about 10p a min.

Imran and a student (also called Imran) took me to Beedon Road, famous for electrical appliances and parts. The heat was intense as I stared at all the shops which seem to sell the same things: desktop fans, irons, light fixtures etc. After entering several shops, we were directed to one which stocked row upon row of lightbulbs and plugs, I got a 3 pin plug adaptor for Rs40.

Across the road was 'Amritsari', the oldest sweet shop in Lahore, established at the time of Partition in 1947.
Upon recognising me as a foreigner from the UK, the shopkeeper insisted we all try one of his specialities: 'Patisa'. It was marzipan yellow and had the texture of spun sugar, like candy floss, pressed into a block and cut into chunks and with a distinct nutty flavour.

Nazerkat, a final year student who had been assigned to give me an evening tour of the city, texted me to arrange to meet him at the college hostel, where he was staying.

He showed me some of his miniature paintings on bus tickets.
They were extremely detailed and clearly demonstrated tremendous patience in the pursuit of perfection.

Nazerkat shared the 2nd floor room with another student who greeted me at the door.
Another door opened onto a balcony, allowing a gentle breeze to flow through the small room. His mattress doubled up as a seat for mastering his craft under the bright low-level strip light.

We caught a rickshaw to go looking for an artist whose trade is fast disappearing. The driver was whistling and shouting at pedestrians as we sped along, I don't think his horn was working.

In the back, Nazerkat and I talked about his plans for his degree show, I shot some video during the journey.

The rickshaw took us to Shah Alam Chowk (I think?) in search of a famous artist who is definitely one of a dying breed.

In a region where cinema's are proud to announce that they have been showing the same movie for the last three years, Rahid and his team manage to keep busy in his studio down a dark side street. It seems quite and peaceful away from the hustle and bustle (and 2 stroke fumes) of the busy square.

Not so long ago, all the cinema boards were hand painted by skilled craftsmen like Rahid.
These days, with the advent of digital printing, the demand is not the same. However he still manages to ply his trade with a couple of assistants and continues to recycle huge metal sheets according to the demands of local cinemas, painting over previous masterpieces.
This one was for a movie called 'Urdu Gangster', it looks like Jonathan Ross was in it (far right with a mustache).
Heading back to the square we passed a businessman having a massage after a hard day at the office. He was laying on carpets on the pavement with a local therapist walking up and down his body, using a long stick for balance. The tired businessman certainly appears to be enjoying himself as he gets the full treatment... ouch!We took another crazy rickshaw ride to Gowal Mundi in search of a local delicacy: Saag. Cooked spinach is a dish I'd had in restaurants at home but never on its own. We sat outside on the old and original 'Foody Street'. The atmosphere was cool with room to sit at most tables. We shared a modest bowl of the spinach with spices and parata's while discussing Nazerkat's interest in art and his aspirations.

I never thought I'd be eating spinach in Lahore whilst discussing Marcel Duchamp and the birth of conceptual art. After the tasty Saag, we passed a stall selling 'Keer', I've probably misheard that so will find out later if that's the correct name. We had some of the local dessert, it was iced milk, semi-frozen served in little disposable terracotta bowls, (Rs2) it certainly cooled my sore throat from all those rickshaw fumes but it couldn't soothe my burning eyes... maybe I'm just tired after a very eventful day.

Family Motorcycle at Jahangirs Tomb

2008-08-24T08:50:00.000-07:00

Got about 5 hrs sleep last night.

Had breakfast with Tariq (man from Glasgow). He told me about when he used to work in Lancashire and Yorkshire, what a nice chap. I had fried egg on toast and he had curry, rice, paratha's, omelette and vegetables. I'm trying to keep to a simple diet until I get settled into the climate.

Imran collected me at 2pm, he had a driver, Shuabe, he is a post-graduate. We had lunch in Gulberg at a very hip restaurant, I had Salmon Pasta and they both had spicy meat dishes.

It was then a good drive to Shahdara and Jahangirs Tomb. I think we headed North, up the Lower Mall through many poorer areas. It was like driving through a film set for a 'Spagetti Western', mud roads and animals all over the place: cattle, goats, donkeys, chickens etc.
One stall caught my eye. It displayed crates of white doves (with black neck and head), stacked four high and the bottom crate held a huge Black Kite, looking rather dishevelled. The Black Kite is as common as the feral pigeon in Lahore and survives by scavenging the urban landscape.

I amused myself by counting the passengers on motorbikes. The most people I've seen on a motorcycle is five: both parents and three children, it's much more interesting than 'I-Spy'.
The tomb resembles a fortress and is a wonderful example of classic Mugal landscape design with large expanses of lawned gardens, split into four segments or quarters.

Outside the temperature was 35 degrees and 34 in the shade of the old trees, which were generously scattered within the walled gardens. My flat cap was useful for mopping my brow, but only in the relative safety of the shaded areas (under the trees). Imran demonstrated how the sound of a whisper can be carried from one side of the space to the other.
Inside the tomb it was very dark and much cooler.

Imran explained that the real tomb is well below ground level and that this sarcophagus (as in most tombs) is merely for symbolic reference.

There was another smaller (dome shaped) tomb in another section of the walled area, which had been stripped of its original precious stone mosaics.

Apparently, the many different rulers of Punjab have all played their part in recycling early monuments: the Sikhs to Amritsar for the Golden Temple and the British to fill their museums.
Outside the main gates of the tomb, we took shelter under a canopy by a drinks stall. I introduced myself to an American backpacker called Michael. He was from Los Angeles and had been travelling all over the Asian Subcontinent. He gave me his number and told me about an exhibition of paintings he was having on the 6th Sept in Model Town. I must remember to go to it.

This evening, Nazerkat was assigned to accompany me to 'Foody Street'. We caught a rickshaw to Old Anarkali and searched for a restaurant serving a local speciality: Saag.

No luck finding any Saag but we found a place with air-con which came in pretty handy when shortly after our meal arrived, the power went off and the generator kicked in, it was very dark and hot out on the street but cool and light indoors.

We had mixed vegetables and garlic naan which was just spicy enough to increase the sweat already flowing from my brow.

We talked about being a professional artist and the importance of effective professional networks.

Monsoon Arrival

2008-08-23T22:19:00.000-07:00

Dubai Airport was very busy. No seats available in departure lounge when I was waiting for connection to Lahore. Its just like a homeless festival: people asleep on the floor, under seats etc. they are undisturbed by the automated voice on the tannoy system.

Two porters at Lahore airport asked for £5 for rolling my suitcase 30 meters, cheeky things... (I gave them a quid).

I then misunderstood the driver of the minibus sent to pick me up. He couldn't speak English and when I asked if he was called Imran, he said yes. I sat in the passenger seat wondering how we could communicate over the next three weeks. He had been assigned the role of taking care of me during my stay in Lahore. The penny dropped when about 10 mins later we stopped and picked Imran up. He could speak fluent English and explained that the driver was also called Imran.

They dropped me off at my hotel and agreed to collect me tomorrow.

I didn't even unpack, I fell on the bed listening to the air-con and the sound of the huge fan above my bed. The power went off, a scheduled load sharing event (several times a day) and with the silence, I fell into a deep sleep.

I was awoken by the sound of a Monsoon shower and the giddy screams of children outside my door, enjoying the refreshing conditions.

I too felt a little refreshed and went to investigate the consequences of the rain. Entire streets were transformed into canals but it didn't stop the raging torrent of traffic, honking their way through the muddy waters.
I shot some video on my mobile and some pix with my camera which began to attract the attention of the locals. Could they tell I was a foreigner?

I met two blokes from the UK in the foyer of the hotel: they were here for a family celebration and had travelled from Peshawar at the foot of the mountains.

One of them, Tariq who currently lives in Glasgow, had spent a lot of time working in Blackburn and Leeds and he spoke with a UK northern accent.

It is indeed a small, albeit different world eh.

Middle Eastern Promise

2008-08-22T22:30:00.000-07:00

The Emirates Boeing 777 passes over the middle east (on the in-flight monitor), I began to contemplate how meaningless the international news headlines appear.

The fact that the UK economy is at a 'standstill' doesn't seem to affect me as I feel a profound level of detachment from the hum drum of everyday life, which is far, far below.

I wonder how easy or difficult it would be to develop a new media project based on the idea of being up here (33,000 feet) in this 'in between' space. The artwork could be presented on the personal TVs which all the passengers are plugged in to.

We are here... together... in our own virtual worlds.

Mmm...