School Excursion

Another snake in the playground

I was the teacher on a dam site in the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa Province in northern Pakistan. There were usually around ten kids in my class ranging in age from sixteen down to five. There were not going to be many shortcuts working with this group. A lot of planning was needed to make sure everything remained on track. Beyond that I needed to put together some activities vaguely curriculum related that covered the significant age range. If nothing else I thought these young people needed to know, as far as they could, the land where they had found themselves living.

That was a bit of a guiding star.

Sure, there was a war going on but heading west towards Afghanistan to check out Peshawar and the Khyber Pass using the local train would give a transport unit some substance. Definitely a visit to the Hunza to take in the 7000 metre peaks from the apricot orchards on the valley slopes. And after meeting some high ranking Pakistani air force personnel at the Australian Embassy in Islamabad sabre jets came to mind and sounded reasonable. And once I got my Pakistani license and the use of a van we could make a lot of local visits including trying our hand at making mud bricks. Fairly early on I met Judy Love who was a teacher at another small school on the northern side of the Indus. Not surprisingly I suppose I had never met a New York Radio City Rockette but Judy had been one before finding her way to Pakistan. She taught even fewer children than me and we were able to organise some joint activities including the smallest combined school athletics carnival ever held.

                                                            *

The sabre jet thing had a good outcome. We now had contacts in our embassy so I wrote a letter to the Australian Military Attache asking if it would be possible to take my kids on an excursion to the nearby Ghazi airbase. You know, another link to our transport unit. He seemed to think that was very normal and set the wheels in motion. After some formal correspondence we were informed that a Pakistani military escort would arrive at a set future date to accompany our crew to the airbase. 

The Pakistani air force contingent was on time and on song. I’m pretty certain they hadn’t been given much in terms of what to expect but to a man they instantly flipped into looking after a bunch of mostly young children. I was impressed. So I fell even more in love with Pakistanis. I drove our van slotted between air force vehicles and when we arrived at the base we were led to the Officers’ Mess. With perfect timing the food was served and amidst the Pakistani cuisine were cucumber sandwiches. I think I was the only man without a moustache. Upon some deep and thoughtful reflection my general advice is to avoid wrangling kids at a semi-formal function on a Northern Pakistani air force base if at all possible.

But then it was onto the fun things. We were assigned some guides led by Squadron Leader Murat Khan. He took us to a holding area adjacent to the runway. Yep, not much to see here …. until at high speed a powerful fighter plane completes a pass, unbelievably low, and across our line of sight. That brought us together as a group because we were all lost for words. It was like a recruitment clip where the wide-eyed child, in close-up, decides, then and there, upon a career in the air force. Freya, our German speaking five year old, held my hand.

Our next stop was the radar hut. We were told in terms of great clarity and sincerity that the circular green radar screens were where the defence of Pakistan began. It had been seventeen years since a major conflict with India but you never know what those devious neighbours might get up to. Not much of this made sense to the class but the finale awaited outside. Our Squadron Leader suggested we return to the runway to watch a jet landing. Once the fighter had taxied to a stop he further suggested it would be only fitting if the kids could take turns sitting in the cockpit. I was a happy teacher.

____________________________-

Paul Dufficy grew up in suburban Sydney but has lived and worked for extensive periods in Japan, Indonesia, Pakistan and Thailand. He writes about music, travel and other things that catch his interest. To support his writing he leads a Sydney walking tour with a focus on art and architecture.