converting Australian dollars into ru-
pees. A year later I have got used to
the differences in price and in quali-
ty. After all, I had a whole seat to my-
self in the taxi into town, whereas I
would have shared it with at least one
other woman, her children and her
shopping in say, Islamabad. Ah! the
richness of the travelling life. It’s the
contrasts I find so interesting and ad-
dictive.
As I was thinking about India and
Pakistan, I couldn’t help but further
my comparisons when making those
initial impressions. The taxi took me
through wide and apparently desert-
ed streets. Where were all the peo-
ple? Where was the honking, furious
traffic? Had everyone left Australia?
Had a neutron bomb been dropped?
I was not used to the space. In Asia,
people are crammed close togeth-
er. Even now after a year here it re-
mains my biggest impression; there
TRAVERSE 32
is a phenomenal expanse of space.
It’s endless. Australians who have
never seen Bangkok or Bombay tell
me about the awful city traffic jams.
What? There are neither rickshaw
traffic jams in Sydney nor cows block-
ing the roads in Cairns where I lived
for a month. It’s what one is used to
I suppose. Like all our conclusions,
it’s all about comparisons with previ-
ous experiences. The streets looked
deserted to my eyes. It’s like being in