The home stretch

In a few days, I'll be headed home. I'm happy about that, but disappointed that after six weeks here, I still can't claim to have seen much of Pakistan, or even Islamabad for that matter. We had plans to go out and see some nearby ancient Buddhist ruins today, but as usual work overtook everything else, and I'm spending my Sunday wrapping up what I should have been doing on Saturday, if I hadn't been stuck in an impromptu strategic planning session. (That's not a phrase that comes up much, is it?)

All I can say at this point is that if I had to sum up Pakistan in one sentence, I'd say it's exactly what you'd expect to find in the place where Afghanistan and India collide. As far as I can tell (never having been to either of those countries), Pakistan is about a 50-50 blend of the two, and its struggle to find a comfortable identity for itself may well underlie much of the instability that mars its history (and its present).

I'm sorry to have to get on a plane without seeing much of this land, or its neighbours. To be this close to Kathmandu, to Delhi, to Bhutan and Tibet, and not see any of them -- it's frustrating. Perhaps there's some small silver lining, then, to the fact that I'll almost certainly be back.