princess in Sindh

Have you ever wondered what it's like to be a celebrity or one of the blue blood's folk also called royal family? What is it like if the police is making a fuss and surrounds you with security and doesn't trust you to step around alone?

I had heard about the convoys that you have to travel with when you want to cross Baluchistan or Sindh by bike for example, but coming to Sindh myself visiting a friend I suddenly found myself in a hotel with a police officer infront of my room explaining to me that I can't go anywhere without him. This is „dangerous area“ and he was there for my „personal protection“.

What is so dangerous about Sindh? There are no suicide bombers (except for very rare occasions in Karachi where a lot of different ethnicities mix) and I didn't have the feeling of being in danger while drinking a chai with the people from he bus which broke down in the middle of our trip why I had to stay overnight in a hotel paying a fortune cause I was too exhausted to haggle them down. The answers about the concrete danger were: There are rarely foreigners coming to Sindh (well, if they come to Pakistan they mainly go to the bigger cities or in the north for the mountains...).

There's poverty that leads the people to stealing (not new to me, a general threat while moving around), (group)rape (well...), robbery and kidnapping. This is why the police were struggling with my existence in their province: if something happens to me, a blonde single woman travelling alone, they're responsible. I was made later on to sign papers by the family I stayed with, about me being self-responsible for my travelling in this area and being here without anyone forcing me.

The night passed, the children watched me eating in the restaurant aswell as the waiters stared and rumbled for opening doors for me. The next morning, the police chief was already waiting at the reception: massive with black glasses and a little hat. He would guide me to the bus-stand and take the number of the driver, inform the police in the town that I was going to and made sure I understood not to eat or drink something with foreigners. How did he get me to the bus station?

With his motor bike! Imagine me sitting behind the police chief with my backpack, an additional smaller bag and the whole town watching us while he drove slowly with a selfsatisfied grin in his face, greeting everyone who wanted to see him, showing that he was on his way to fullfill his duty with a blond angrezi women holding on to him. What a show :-)

I wished I had pictures, but my words have to be enough for you lately.

So, the princess of traveleidoscopia was made to go to several police stations, handed over her passport, denied that she needed security guards (but still got one infront of the house she was staying in) and is still not convinced that this makes her any safer, but feels that it draws attention that makes her unsafe. I, as the princess of traveleidoscopia decided that I rather be an unprotexted circus princess dancing on roof tops and sharing chai with bus vallas than an overprotected royal princess that cannot move around