Hung out with family. Did a little bit of shopping. Relaxed and ate plentifully. But one shopping experience turned out to be a little out of the ordinary.
In Pakistan, I have seen plenty of hijras when we go out to popular shopping districts. Don't know what a hijra is? http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hijra_(South_Asia)
So we're around Tariq Road and a hijra approaches me asking me for money. It's hard for me to ignore people, to say no, etc...but that's exactly what I'm supposed to do with them.
The following conversation was in Urdu, but for readability purposes, I'll write it in English.
"Money? Give me some money, sister, please."
"Umm, I'm sorry I don't have anything."
"Ask your mother."
"Uhh..."
Enter my mom
"KIRAN! Come back here, what are you doing having a conversation with him??"
"I...uhh..."
"Sister, some money...."
We walk away.
You probably had to have been there, but it was awkward, scary, and uhh awkward. For me, at least.
The next day we were shopping in Zum Zumma and then BAM! Some other hijras walk by. I was prepared this time! I thought...
And then from behind these hanging fabrics outside the store I was standing outside of, one hijra comes into eyesight, looks at me HOLY MOTHER it's the same one. Remain calm, re-main calm.
"Oh sister, can I have a little bit of money?"
"Umm, sorry, I don't have anything."
This time I was going to walk away and end the "conversation" but before I could -
"Oh I saw you yesterday at Tariq Road as well and you still didn't give me anything then."
WHAT THE HAY!??! He/she remembers me!!
I start to walk away and -
"Ask your mother."
I'm gone by this time. Totally freaked out. In a country with roughly 172,800,048 people, for me to see the same hijra in two very different places and for him/her to recognize me, despite me wearing totally different clothes (American and Pakistani) and two different hair styles (up and down), is very weird. Very, very weird.
Oh Pakistan.
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