JANAN – the one closest to us

by Lara Natalia Haenny (Switzerland)

A leap into the unknown Pakistan

«I’ll be very honest with you now, so listen carefully», began the middle-aged man in traditional Pashtun clothes while pointing with his short admonishing finger at me. «When I heard about a young lady who’s coming through our dangerous region I had to ask myself; what has happened so tragically in her life that she would expose herself to such danger?» his honest words hit me like a bullet. For a moment the space between us filled with a crushing silence and it seemed as if the apartment, in which the plaster already has fallen from its walls just darkened even more. I closed my eyes and covered my mouth with my hands as if I could withhold my emotions from this powerful statesman who came to Islamabad just to make sure I was safe. «Everyone in our circle, especially the ambassadors thought you must be a spy. Nobody could explain what else you’d look for down there», he put his hands on his knees and leaned slowly forward so I’d look up into his big black eyes. In the depths of these infinite macrocosms, I could see the radiant sparkle of his madness. But there was something else, one could only recognize when looking behind the facade of this strong man; his unlimited kindheartedness and painfully honest nature. That’s how I imagined him when I first found out about his power. I remember every detail as if I were sitting on the same rusty iron chair which has already started falling apart. – We were sitting in the backyard of a building that looked more like a prison than a hotel with its tiny windows when all of a sudden an old-fashioned ringtone called our attention. I watched the massive man in brown leather sandals looking for his phone in the deep pockets of his shalwar trousers. I squinted carefully into the round and noticed that my four guards from the paramilitary gendarmerie were also watching him carefully. The big man who just joined our round was carefully checking the number on his tiny display. He lifted his dark eyebrows and answered the call in a quiet deep voice; «Salam?» After a few seconds and a very brief exchange of words, he pressed the hang-up button of his old little Nokia. Slowly he raised his head and looked straight at me: «Who are you?» Obviously nobody expected this question to be asked, because all wary glances of the group were directed at me now. In a moment, I felt my body behave differently as if it's preparing itself for self-defense. With tense shoulder blades and slightly tilted head, I answered calmly but suspiciously: «I’m Lara, as I just said. Why are you asking?» The man who introduced himself as the manager of this place, that was supposed to be my hideaway for that night, narrowed his dark eyes. His eyes still on me and obviously dissatisfied with my answer, he continued asking: «Why does the government call this number then and inform me about the arrival of a special guest? About your arrival.» Before, I was only suspicious, but now I was clearly confused about this investigation. «I seriously don’t know what you’re talking about », I tried to explain although at the same time I could only hope I was not getting into serious troubles. Luckily, my companions began interrupting the questioning of my inquisitor. After a loud discussion among them which I could not understand, the manager explained the situation in English once more, but without looking at me. «He said that she’s a VIP and we have to give her our best room and double the security people for the night.» With his kameez, he dabbed the sweat from his forehead. Then he slowly got up and walked back into the hotel. I watched him talking to the guys behind the reception while simultaneously pointing at me. What’s going on here, I asked myself. Who was this powerful voice on the other side of the line and why does he care about my safety? «Madam, important.», said one of my guards. I turned around and watched him drilling his machine gun into the gravel floor.