After a day of shopping, we rested and sat around at home. The girls had gotten closer to their UK cousins and I knew at least they were being entertained.
Today we had to arrange the party. My mother in law had completed her pilgramage to Mecca back in Nov 09 and we wanted to celebrate this with both sides of the family. To organize such an event needed only two days notice in Pakistan.
Squeeze me? Yes, you heard right. Two days! We netted out that there would be 61 guests from both my husband's mother and father's side. We just needed to check out a few restaurants to do the party. Hubby went with his uncle and cousins to scour Lahore for the best location. They left at 2pm and I waited. And waited. Around 6pm, my imagination went wild concocting stories of their lateness. I stopped watching television because it was so depressing. The floods were still rampant and I had just heard that a domestic flight from Karachi to Islamabad had crashed because of inclement weather. All 160 people had died. They showed footage of the carnage which I conveniently switched off when the girls came downstairs to eat mangoes.
Oh, btw, one of the upsides of our trip was the food. It was the season for mangoes and I averaged 2 a day. They were amazing. We tried to eat mostly at home as I would not be able to ascertain the handling of food from bazaars off the street. Bottled water was delivered daily and then boiled before being placed in a large cooler for us to drink. And with the loadshedding, we were drinking more than eight glasses a day.
But I digress. The gang came back at 7pm with the announcement that in four days, the party would be held at a restaurant named Salt and Pepper, The Village situated five minutes from Gulberg main market. My head was spinning with minor details, like how everyone would show up given four days short notice. But it was a week day and if you invited people to eat dinner on you, trust me, they would come in droves! The Village was buffet style with an assortment of Pakistani, Chinese and Western cuisine. But again I digress. The first party to take place was to celebrate for our UK cousin's son. When a son or daughter is born, it is Islamic tradition to sacrifice a goat and serve half to your dinner guests and the rest as meals for charity. We call this party an "Akikah". For a boy, two goats are sacrificed. Enter Buckoo and Buckaa, the two goats who turned up at the doorstep when the gang returned. The akikah was to happen in two days.
The braying said it all...
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