My dad landed in Karachi, Pakistan on Tuesday, June 28th around 1am (Monday night). He was here for two weeks visiting relatives and such while I went to work. After 2 weeks, I took a week off from work to spend more time with him (because my coming home every day after 8pm didn't much time for us to hang out. I'm in the middle of my week off right now.

I had wanted to possibly go to Northern Pakistan to some beautiful and very touristy areas to sightsee with him. He's been there, I haven't. But that didn't work out cuz he still had/has errands to run around here.

We've a few fun days out. We've done a lot of shopping. We both got clothes and dvds and cds, etc. It's fun. We ride around in rickshaws from place to place and eat lunch out. We went to the beach with some relatives on Sunday. That was cool. It's the first time I had been to the beach since I've been here (not counting boating trips and a beachhouse rave). My dad loves taking rickshaws. He loves the fact that they're so open (no doors). He's been having a tough time with this heat.

He has a bit of a heart condition, which makes him winded easily, and he especially has a tough time climbing stairs...I should remind everyone that the apartment I live in is in on the top story of an apartment building. You have to climb 5 flights of stairs to get up and down... My dad realized it was going to be too much for him which is why he has shifted his "home base" to a nearby relative (one of his sisters).

It's been weird having him around - mainly because I don't feel very different. Karachi still feels like Karachi except with my dad here. And the two of us slipping into our old habits (him picking at every little thing I do, and me getting frustrated with him too easily) feels just like we're back home. However, these two worlds seem to be coexisting without anything really feeling very different from my perspective...like I said, it's weird because I don't feel any different.

I have noticed one change in the way we communicate. We are communicating a little more like equals now than father & son. Not on the same level of course, but closer to it. Sometimes it's a mutual feeling, but mostly it's me. I feel more comfortable talking to him on his level. One night we were both lying on the long mattress that lies on the floor in my room (makeshift doublebed) before he had shifted his home base to his sister's. We were talking before we went to sleep, and I had a long talk to him about his expenses and budget back home. I explained to him and talked to him about things he needs to keep better track of. It was pretty cool.

All my life, my dad has been "the man" when it comes to handling problems and issues in my house. This especially applies to expenses. The guy was a banker half his life, so what would you expect. Many (or all) of you know that I can be a little..."tight" when it comes to spending money. OK, I'm cheap, there we've said it. Well, where do you think I get it from? Growing up, I heard a lot about the "value of money" and it groomed me into becoming someone who keeps a close eye on my expenses and doesn't spend unnecessarily. If I do spend money on something that isn't "budgeted" I have to rationalize it (before or after the fact). Anyways, now it was me who was "educating" my dad on keeping better track of his expenses. In fact, most of this trip, it's been a total role reversal with us. He has been telling me over and over that I should spend more money on myself and trying to buy me things I don't need and I've been the one saying I don't need this and that, and that I spend what I want and save the rest.

I know the real reason for all this though. Guilt. My parents feel unbelievably guilty right now that they're there and I'm here. They feel like they're in the States living the good life, and I'm stuck here having to deal with all sorts of hardships. This isn't a guess by the way, my dad told me this almost in the same words. My mom is the real driving force behind this. Before my dad left, she told him to get me my own apartment, or get my cousins a new place where we can all live comfortably and if not, then to get me an AC for my room, and a new bed and a new wardrobe (meaning clothes and an actual wardrobe to put them in as well)...and God knows what else. Like I said, they feel very very GUILTY...and you have no idea how heavily that bears on my conscience, my soul even.

Everyone knows I screwed up. I screwed royally, which is why I'm here. My stupid stupid actions have already caused my parents so much emotional and financial trouble. When I had to leave, part of me was glad that the whole affair was finally over with. We spent so much time and energy and money trying to fight my "removal" and I could see the daily toll it took on my parents. At least when the decision was final, it was done. I left. It was over. There would be emotional problems for them (especially for my mom) not having me there, but at least the rest of it was done. Without exaggeration, I can say that I was single-handedly digging them deeper and deeper into debt for about the last 5 years. But now, they feel guilty about something I did to myself and are still spending time, money and energy to try and help me out. I know, I know, that's what families do...but it doesn't change the fact that I have been and still remain a cancer to my family...

Geez, what happened here - I think if you read from start to finish, you can actually see the gradual plunge of my mood, hehe. This was supposed to be a post about fun times with my Dad. Ah well, I guess it makes sense. I can find the negative in anything, hehe. Funny, considering I think I find the positive in everything. =/

Go figure.
~KC

p.s. - this post wouldn't be complete without me mentioning the fact that my dad is 59 and I've been thinking more and more about what's going to happen when he dies.