Further bulletins as events warrant . . .

Last night I summoned up my courage and called the dry-cleaner. This is completely without the benefit of gestures, mind you, and Roomie was holed up in her room, unavailable for language assistance. Cautiously and amid much stammering, I lobbed a handful of Urdu at Dhobi Sahib, producing the following result:

DS: Wa Salaamu aleikum.
UP: Wa aleikum salaam. Pidgeon hai.
DS: lots of Urdu . . .
UP: (gulp) Aiae hamara apartment . . . kal, tik hai? [Kindly come to our apartment . . . tomorrow is OK?]
DS: alarming amount of Urdu, apartment X?
UP: [with relief] Jee! Apartment X!
DS: more Urdu, kal, 8 pm.
UP: Acha. 8 pm.
DS: Hodah hafiz [good-bye]
UP: Hodah hafiz.

I was so pleased with myself that I hooted through the house about it until Roomie said she was proud of me.

Wait, you're asking, the dry-cleaner comes to your house? Yeah. As does the tailor (getting clothes made is cheaper than buying ready-made outfits), and the lady who waxes Roomie's eyebrows. There are brick-and-morter shops of course, but many businesspeople will come to a person's home at no extra charge.

Service jobs are big, which may be partly cultural and partly due to the difficulties of Pakistan's economic position, among other factors. For example, every grocery store, restaurant, bank, and upscale shop has a doorman, and many have another person out front to direct the parking. Many individual entrepreneurs will deliver to one's home, as I said, and practically every business--from Our School to the guys who send international faxes out of basement shops--pays a man or a young boy to make tea for them while they work. It's easy to get spoiled by this sort of thing. Most families of means also hire a driver to take them around town in the all-over-the-map traffic. Women, especially, are less likely to drive here, though I do see some women behind the wheel. (Speaking of which, I'm so grateful for our driver. The traffic here terrifies me.)

But then I think about what folks in these jobs must be making per year. Peanuts, generally. Dhobi Sahib will steamwash, starch and press 5 full outfits for about $2, and while he's probably better-off than others (he wears nice shalwar kameezes), he can't be rolling in it. And no, $2 per job does not go far in Pakistan. I don't know what Driver Sahib makes, but I think drivers here generally make between $90 and $120 a month--also not much.

I will summon up the unmitigated temerity to delve into class issues and the economy in another post, but for now I'll simply point out what is probably obvious: living in The Lovely City can be pretty comfortable for those with money (or benefits packages which include housing), but the gap between rich and poor here is vast, and there is not much of a middle class to speak of. Pakistan's economic position vis-a-vis industrialized countries such as the U.S. doesn't help matters (the foreign aid is for the army), and unemployment is a challenge, leading many with college degrees to seek clerical and other jobs that require far less education.