Paksitan

As I walked the lonely no mans strip of land between the borders flashes of friends, family, and the media began to make my heart thump. In the distance I could see the Pakistan flag taunting me.
"PAKISTAN!"I imagined a man in a 1950's communist propaganda film singing.
In the news Pakistan was reported as one of the most dangerous places in the world. An American was just kidnapped, the extremists threatened to behead a man from Poland, and a Chinese engineer was still missing. Images of screaming women who lost their children, angry brothers burning American flags, and pale white hands covered with dirty blood crying for help from rubble troubled my mind.
As the gate came closer the flag became bigger and the situation became much more real.
"I am going into Pakistan." I told myself out loud.
" There is no way back." I said with a little tension in my voice.
" I have to do this."
At the actual gate Indian and Pakistan soldiers - men who yesterday stared with screams of hate at each other- shared a cigarette.
I handed my passport to the Indian soldier, he looked at it, gave it back. Then I handed it to the Pakistani soldier, he looked at it and handed it back.
I took a breath, and entered the country.
The first police officer I met had beautiful green hazel eyes.
"Why are you coming to Pakistan?" He asked quizzically.
"Well," I had rehearsed this but now so much shit was going through my mind I couldn't think. "Well I am interested in seeing the culture..." I stuttered.
"Are you Muslim?"
I've always disliked questions about religion because they just don't get it over here. If your not a Christian you must be a Muslim, a Hindu or a Buddhist. When you try to explain you don't have a religion they get this kind of confused, astonished, frown on their face.
"I'm a teacher"
It seemed to do and I was sent to customs.
It was a clean building, almost like an airport. Not what I suspected of Pakistan.
"Hellllllo!" A man with a teddy bear face and big great beard called from a desk on the other side of the building.
"How are you today?"
"I'm fine sir."
"Is everything ok with you?"
"Um, yep, Im fine."
"Great, In which country you come from sir?" He asked with a friendly smile.
"Canada"
"Ah, Toronto, Montreal, or Vancouver?"
"Vancouver."
"Ohhh, is this your first time to Pakistan?"
"Yes it is sir."
"Well Welcome, I hope you enjoy my country"
And I was stamped in.
It was hard to not have a genuinely good feeling after meeting a man like that and I walked into Pakistan feeling great.
Five men approached me after I actually entered the country. They were rickshaw drivers. Their English accent was very different than that of Indians. As we negotiated a price more and more men began to crowd around us. Some of them had brown hair, white faces, and blue eyes- descendants of Alexanders armies. Within seconds there was a group of 20 men around me. The situation was uncomfortable.
I was kinda of caught up in it all - The tangerine sun setting in the dusty rice fields, the evening prayer echoing from the white mosque, the curious men with their serious but not dangerous faces. I started at them staring at me. Pakistan was going to be interesting.

That first meeting has sort of summed up my whole trip.

A lot of unnecessary nervousness, a lot of nice surprises, a lot of unbelievable friendliness and hospitality from complete strangers, and a lot of staring.