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Such an adventure!
Oct. 8th, 2006 06:25 pmI've been thinking about adventures this weekend, among other things, and wondering why I never have any. But as I went to get clean sheets out of the linen cupboard, I pulled out an old set of sheets buried at the back, and when I saw the bullet hole through the middle of the top sheet, I suddenly remembered -- I have had adventures, after all! Imagine forgetting about this one!
It happened back in Pakistan one day, when I was alone in the rooftop apartment of the office where my hubby worked. My hubby had gone to the bazaar to buy some fresh vegetables, and had taken the mandatory police guard with him (assigned by the local constabulary as a safety procaution for foreigners). I was hanging out laundry when I heard a lot of gunfire going on.
"My goodness!" I thought. "I didn't know there was a wedding in our neighborhood today! It must be quite close, from the sound of those guns shooting off." (It is a local custom to shoot guns in the air during weddings.)
I continued to hang out my laundry, unconcerned. I was tempted to look over the wall that surrounded our rooftop and kept it private, to see if I could see a sign of the wedding party, but I didn't have my head covered, and I didn't want anyone to see me over the top of the wall, so I decided against it. There was no other sound, except the intermittent gunfire, that seemed to be coming closer.
"How odd," I thought. "There is no music or parade accompanying this wedding -- and now that I think of it, those shots being fired are quite irregular. I wonder if something else is going on?"
I finished pinning up the wet sheets and then decided perhaps I would be wise to go inside, just in case there was something happening that might put me in danger. As I closed the door to the house, I thought I heard muffled shouting, but could not be certain.
It was only about half an hour later when our office chowkidar (watchman) came up to tell me what had been happening. He had been passing in the street below on his way to our office, when he had witnessed the whole thing -- what I thought had been a wedding had actually been a shootout in the street beside our house, between the police and armed gunmen who had just escaped from jail!
"It was a good thing you were not outside, Memsahib!" the chowkidar exclaimed. "You could have been hurt!"
"Yes," I agreed, "it was a good thing, wasn't it?"
After the gunmen had been captured and taken away back to jail, I went out to get my laundry, only to discover that a stray bullet had passed through my sheet, leaving a neat little hole.
"That will make a nice souvenir to show the folks back home," I thought. "I wonder if they'll ever believe me?"
It happened back in Pakistan one day, when I was alone in the rooftop apartment of the office where my hubby worked. My hubby had gone to the bazaar to buy some fresh vegetables, and had taken the mandatory police guard with him (assigned by the local constabulary as a safety procaution for foreigners). I was hanging out laundry when I heard a lot of gunfire going on.
"My goodness!" I thought. "I didn't know there was a wedding in our neighborhood today! It must be quite close, from the sound of those guns shooting off." (It is a local custom to shoot guns in the air during weddings.)
I continued to hang out my laundry, unconcerned. I was tempted to look over the wall that surrounded our rooftop and kept it private, to see if I could see a sign of the wedding party, but I didn't have my head covered, and I didn't want anyone to see me over the top of the wall, so I decided against it. There was no other sound, except the intermittent gunfire, that seemed to be coming closer.
"How odd," I thought. "There is no music or parade accompanying this wedding -- and now that I think of it, those shots being fired are quite irregular. I wonder if something else is going on?"
I finished pinning up the wet sheets and then decided perhaps I would be wise to go inside, just in case there was something happening that might put me in danger. As I closed the door to the house, I thought I heard muffled shouting, but could not be certain.
It was only about half an hour later when our office chowkidar (watchman) came up to tell me what had been happening. He had been passing in the street below on his way to our office, when he had witnessed the whole thing -- what I thought had been a wedding had actually been a shootout in the street beside our house, between the police and armed gunmen who had just escaped from jail!
"It was a good thing you were not outside, Memsahib!" the chowkidar exclaimed. "You could have been hurt!"
"Yes," I agreed, "it was a good thing, wasn't it?"
After the gunmen had been captured and taken away back to jail, I went out to get my laundry, only to discover that a stray bullet had passed through my sheet, leaving a neat little hole.
"That will make a nice souvenir to show the folks back home," I thought. "I wonder if they'll ever believe me?"
