Careless people and good intentions

Since I've been here, I've often been reminded of the 'carelessness'  of Gatsby's Tom and Daisy: "They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into the money of their vast carelessness.”

It's not that Pakistanis are more careless than the British.  It's just that the people with money hold so much power and the people without are so vulnerable that carelessness can cause great harm.  I witness it, in one way or another, all the time.  One evening, a poor colleague is told he needs to go to Kashmir the next day for a case; there's no car to take him, he's told, he can get there by bus or bike.  When I see him next, he tells me he had to ride his motorbike all the way through the night to get there on time and all night afterwards to get back for work the next day.  Or a graver example:  a servant borrows money and does not repay it on time so, to be taught a lesson, is accused of a ridiculously unsubstantiated crime. He is then tortured so badly by the police that he can no longer walk.

Carelessness is an easy trap to fall in to, as no-one ever points it out, or tells you to pack it in. Even if they can't afford to eat.  For over two weeks we didn't pay the family that lives with us as we thought someone else had and in that time they could not afford to buy food or send the children to school.

However, despite some failures like these, I have really tried to avoid Tom and Daisy behaviour.  In my relationship with the family that live with us, I have always erred on the side of being over-generous and making it clear that I would help with anything that was needed. 

In this way, we have lived happily side by side.   It is hard for me to believe now that there was a time when I was opposed to them living with us (or being cooked for, or having my clothes ironed). In the beginning, at least, it was a fairly lonely life here, and they did a great deal to make me feel at home.  They have come to feel to me like family.  My Pakistani family.

The children are as lovely as children can be.  They seem to be easily pleased and enjoy whatever game I come up with, however unsuccessful.  “Duck, duck, goose”, I know now, does not work unless you are able to explain the point of the game.  Hide and seek requires less explanation, as if all else fails, you can just run around chasing each other. They call me 'mamaji', meaning mumma, and Sameena jokes that I’m their second mother.

Sameena and I have developed a particularly close relationship.  She and I chat over dinner happily in our respective languages.  At times neither of us has any clue what the other is saying, but imagine a line of conversation and reply to it. Recently, we have started reciprocal English/Urdu lessons. She does, however, have zero tact or respect for privacy.  She will look me up and down in the morning and say “Liana madam, what are you wearing?” and each day she reminds me that if I drank lemon tea and not tea tea, I would be as slim as she is.  And I must add that Sameena is slim. And beautiful.  And 25.

Then, a few days ago, I found out she had been stealing from us.

The information about this was relatively conclusive, given that the informant was her husband. He told my colleague and his friend, Zahid, that Sameena had been taking more money than she needed for things and keeping the extra.  I had given her some money to take the children to the doctor that day, which she had pocketed. All this was told to me fairly reluctantly, and only because I could tell something was wrong and was worried that one of the children was ill.

I wasn't angry, just surprised and sad.  Zahid told us to leave it to him to sort out. He spent hours and hours with the family and afterwards he told me that the matter was resolved and that Sameena now understood that she shouldn't have stolen.  I wanted to know more.  I was indignant and had lots of questions: Had it been happening right from the beginning?  Why had she done it?  I wanted us to sit down and talk about it.  Zahid sighed at my request in a world weary way.  Yes it had happened for some time and he could give me a thousand possible reasons why she’d done it, but the real reason was for her and God.  “Look, she is very young, she is silly, she is from a family as poor as I doubt you can imagine, Liana.  She has lived in a small village all her life and this is her first time in the city.  She will never have seen a real bed, let alone a white person.”  He said that we could talk about it and Sameena apologise, if I really wanted, but what would that really mean?  She knew now that what she’d done was wrong and that should be enough.  Yes, I agreed, a bit reluctantly, it was enough.

I wasn't at all sure that it was enough though, and only when I saw Sameena did I know that it was.  She looked dishevelled, embarrassed and sad.  The following day, when we were in my room she broke down in tears. She said she felt so awful as we were like her sisters and asked if we could ever forgive her.  I cried too and said 'bas' - enough - and we hugged.  For really, I do care for like a sister.

I can understand why she did it, I just wish she hadn’t.  I thought I could prove the others wrong, and create a relationship of trust between us all based on mutual respect.  I was wrong. 

I worry for her also.  As in not long, the bizarre English people will be gone.  If she stole from a Pakistani family things would be different.  It is likely that her whole family would be on the streets within 24 hours.  Even worse, her brother and her husband could be arrested.  And as poor Christians, it's best not to think about what would happen to them then.

I think, on reflection, our generosity created this problem.  In a society based on status, unequal relationships and mistrust, by giving money freely we must have created a great deal of confusion and, I suspect, a feeling that we would not miss dents in our never ending reserves of money.

There's also the problem that soon I'll be gone and then they'll be back to bare survival again, only now with expectations of a slightly less hard life.

So I'm learning that good intentions in an environment you don't understand can be the most dangerous thing of all. So much hardship is needlessly caused here by carelessness. But this episode has reminded me that all the care in the world does not make you get things right.