Yet Again, I am a Habitat
Welcome to the final installment of Stephanie in Pakistan.
Oh boy, guys.
How in the world do I always end up in situations like this!!!
I am TOO vegan for this world. TOO vegan. I am too nice to all the life, that they just want to make me their happy little habitat. NO! I am NOT a fan of THIS!!!!
The black spots when you scratch your head, Stephanie are NOT dried up blood from scabs that you have been digging at with your finger nails. No, no, no. They are none other than creepy crawly LICE poops!
LICE!!!!
We have moved on from mites burrowing under our skin (scabies) to ticks in our inner thighs, to fly larvae living in our ankle (burro burro). Ttoday there are little buggies skittering across my scalp shitting everywhere and laying eggs. Yuck, yuck, yuck.
But where has Stephanie acquired such a thing? If only I had a clue. I’ve been staying in nice places for a good long time. Apparently, though, the incubation period for lice is 4-6 weeks before one even notices symptoms. 4-6 weeks ago I was in India, Oman, and Pakistan. So many planes, a hostel… who knows! Did mera bakra (the goat) pass it to me? What about the cats I’ve pet? Who is to say?!
But in the past week of confusion and suspicion of my scalp condition, I have learned a bit about these awfully frustrating beings. Allow me to share.
To begin, the itching is from their saliva stimulating an allergic reaction. The allergic reaction does not happen immediately, which is why one may not notice they have lice for quite some time. Lice like warm spaces, so you will most commonly find them (or scratch them) behind the ears, at the nape of the neck, and at the top of the head (conveniently everywhere that has been most itchy). If you are also itchy on your neck or shoulders where there is no hair, that is also a part of the vibe, especially of there are smaller bumps. Periodically, you will be able to feel the lice running through your head. It is difficult to differentiate if this is just a bout of itchiness spreading across your head, especially when you aren’t finding any lice yourself, but trust that this is not normal and get someone to check your hair ASAP!
Lice come in all shapes and sizes depending on how developed they are in their growth journey. Some can be quite small and clear bodied while others will be thicker and black/brown. The lice themselves are not the problem, it’s all their babies. They lay many many eggs that are the smallest things, attaching themselves close to the hair shafts with a glue-like substance. I do not know what an egg looks like just yes as they are all living in the back of my head, making self diagnosis very difficult.
As I am writing this, I can feel them moving, by the way. It’s disgusting.
* A few hours later *
OKAY! I have taken my first treatment of the lice shampoo. My head already has stopped itching, and I brushed my hair so extremely much, taking at least 10 lice out of hair. I know there are still some dying inside as I don’t have a fine-toothed comb yet to do a deep clean, but we are making progress. Good good progress. Mashallah.
It’s quite interesting: once they are out of the hair, they are so incompetent. They hardly move and they flop over onto themselves. Embarrassing. Now we need to make sure their eggs don’t hatch or if they do, they don’t lay any more eggs before I exterminate them.
* A few days later *
Okay lice still sucks. I have extracted only 1 lice today, but he was too alive for me to be comfortable. On a worser note, apparently one’s lymph nodes can also swell up from lice. I never fully understood what swollen lymph nodes meant, but when I found two sizable lumps hurting behind my ears, I quickly learned. No good.
In less gross news:
My time in Karachi has been absolutely wonderful. I am shocked that a week has passed. I am trying to catch time like cupping water in my palms beneath a faucet, rushing it to my mouth before the water slips between my fingers. Fleeting.
Yesterday I went to the clothing market. Here, purchasing clothing is an intimate exchange, demanding bargaining, questions over material, and constant discussion with the seller on finding the perfect piece. Rather than racks of hangers with clothes that I must sift through, I find a den that has an appealing wall of fabrics and sit down on a chair while the seller pulls out designs he imagines I would like. There’s pointing, reaffirming tastes, and fabrics being flapped and swayed to show texture and the way it hits the light. Everything is unfolded to convince me of the vision.
This process is repeated throughout the market. Particularly, I was looking for a sharara, specifically a gharara. This style consists of a long kurta top with wide-legged pants beneath. A garbara is more specific and requires the pants be fitted until the knee, but then the fabric bunches together to great a dramatic outward flow to the floor.
My bestie’s mom and I searched through every stall in two markets. Asking and asking and asking. The designs were either too complex and heavy with golden bead details littering the textiles, poor material, or not a complete set, leaving just a pant or top. And let me tell you, matching materials in a market of many distinct styles is difficult.
As such, we changed our approach. We first looked for a top, and trusted that the correct pants will follow suit. I felt many fabric types, rejected many overdone beadings, until we glanced upon a delicate asmaani (sky blue) sheer fabric that surprisingly did not make my hand lurch back upon touching it (for context, I am very particular about texture and am repulsed by many types).
But this was just open fabric. No shirt, no sleeve. Nothing. How could this work?
Well, let me tell you! In these markets, there is also a large section of tailors, committed to taking any fabric ready-made or blank and transforming it to the woman’s measurements.
When we discussed the gharara idea, the shop keeper brought over a tailor and we consulted on the vision. Oh, and by the way, we also needed it by today because I leave Karachi tomorrow. It was 7pm when the first purchase was made.
Sheers slid across the fabrics and were packed into a plastic sleeve. We were escorted to the sewing section of the market where a man measured all my parts (with modesty, of course!). I think he commented on my wide shoulders, and height. Yes, I am a giant for Pakistan woman standards.
Just before midnight, we got the call that it was ready. We drove back and the market was no longer this bustling epicenter, but a series of garage doors and dim hallways. We waited in the car and the tailor came right to us with his magic.
At home, we unravelled everything, and I did my first spin. Guys, I have become a princess! The way everything flows so naturally. So soft! I want to wear it everyday. The wide legged pants spin and open, allowing a flow of air into the pant— PERFECT ventilation. A gorgeous pastel blue like Barbie in The Princess Pauper. Mega wowzah.
Quick other things:
Went to Turtle Beach (no turtles today) and searched for sea shells and crabs in the sand.
Took a quick boat ride bouncing along the current. Very fun.
Went on a 3-hour night cruise filled with singing, couples giving each other roses (it was Valentines day), and me enjoying the sea while disappointed at the plastics floating around.
Ate a lentil burger at a outdoor food shop. Meri sehayli (my friend, female) called this poor people food. But if it’s vegan, it will always be food for the rich, in my opinion.
Camels are pierced through their noses to attach a lead and better control the animal. Not a big fan of that, but I will do more research.
I went into a makeshift haunted house and rage room. I did not have much rage and I screamed immediately upon entering the haunted house. All of this was in a mall. Strange.
