Once we arrived at the boarder, it was maddness (when is it not in India) but we found a good parking spot and the second I fell out of the vehicle I was bombarded with men offering to watch my bag and camera...You see, according to these guys you weren't allowed to bring anything with you across the border and they of course for a small fee would be willing to guard my camera! WoW what service!!! I was completely lost in the confusion and turned to the driver to ask what this was about but he was long gone. Bloeme told me he was lying and yelled at one guy told him to leave us alone. I didn't know who to trust. Bloeme and Bec then decided that they were hungry and wanted to eat street corn. The bossy lady from the Taxi came up to me and pulled me down the road saying YOU MUST HURRY. I yelling back at bec and Bloeme for help they decided to forgo the corn (which was smart later because we were late already) came running after me. The croud was nutz and kept getting worse because the rich people were hiring rickshaws and the poor were getting more congested as we approached the 1 man gate. Once I got to the gate though I was again approached by a kid, this time being told it wasn't my camera that was not allowed, rather it was my bag. NO bags are allowed to go through the border check point. For some reason I trusted the kid a little more (cuz he didn't go after my camera). Remember the crowds and the pushing and the no personal space and excitement at being near Pakistan....The kid directed me to a pile of purses. The pile of purses were literally just a pile on the side of the street where all women were directed (yelled at really) do leave their bag with no money, no phones, no passports no nothing. Empty the purse and you can leave it here with us. I was dragged by the kid while the guard yelled at me, Bloeme was yelling at the guard, me and the kid (she's talented) and the crowd of wome serging as I tried to take out everything and shove it into my pockets. I gingerly handed over my bag to this growing pile and had a scrap of paper given to me in its place. There was no indication of order to any of the bags or that I would get my bag back....
Once I went through the gate, women were directed towards a closed off area of the road where women guards felt us up…they were efficient, but didn’t miss any location. The men were checked on the street. It was about ¼ walk to the gate. I followed the crowd which was a mistake. We didn’t find out until later that they had a side entrance for Foreigners and families. I was funneled into a crowd that was worse than the Primus mosh pit concert that Matt Janine and I went to one year. I went up on my toes to look over the crowd (cuz most were shorter than me) and couldn’t get back down. The people were pushing and shoving and I feel sorry for the people who were up against the bar. Talk about bruises. I eventually got separated from Bec and then took about 10 minutes before I got angry enough to yell “you have to be shitting me!” which incited giggle out of the men and then I shoved my way out of the crowd. When I finally got out, I was drenched and it was not just my own sweat. I found Bec and Bloeme came running up and told us to follow her. She had been told about the secret side entrance. This entrance provided access to the bleachers, VIP, foreigner, and family seating. The problem is I had to go through one more check point…I say problem because I had brought my GPS unit with me and passed it off as a cell phone at the first check point, but this one the girl was a little more skeptical. I was able to pass it off only because another gal started making trouble which distracted my guard….Or at least that is what I think happened. Maybe she didn’t care, but I thought it would be hard to explain why I had a GPS unit in my pocket on the Pakistan Boarder.
Anyway, once we got into this beautiful seating area we got a sure view of the show. It was hilarious. The Pakistan side was segregated (women on the right and men on the left as I faced them) and the chanting between the countries and the yelling matches and then all the posturing. It was entertaining to say the least. The way out I did get my bag back, but not without another serge of panic of where the heck did the bags go. I went back to the spot where the pile of purses were taller than me and found nothing. I immediately thought WOW we've all been dooped....but no, they just moved all the bags to a back corner and my little ticket actually matched my bag. It only cost me 20Rs and a few more grey hairs.