ConOff's Suspicions are Aroused.

AuthorMates, Michael
PositionConsular officer - Personal account

Title: ConOff's Suspicions are Aroused

Author: Michael Mates

Text:

As a newly minted vice consul at Embassy Islamabad, I interviewed high ranking generals, scholars, and artists as well as those from the other end of the spectrum--the peasant with no English planning a marketing survey for local sandals in the USA, the convicted rapist who wanted a refusal in order to avoid a court summons, the oily types with no bank statements and dollops of gold nestling on their chest-fur. The cool mendacity of some applicants took the breath away.

But it was the multifaceted complexity of fraudulent efforts to gain the undeserved benefits via fiddled documents that fascinated us most.

One of the most fascinating was the case of a drug-smuggler who claimed to have been born in Montana to a Sierra Leonean mother.

It was on October 12, 1993, that we heard of this arrest of a reported American citizen in the Northern Areas, as she attempted to cross into China with two kilograms of high-quality heroin. I was deputed as the Consular Officer to do the mandatory consular jail visit.

Getting to Gilgit took either an 18-hour bus ride or a flight that was famous for not flying. The 44-seat Fokker flies through spectacular scenery, the rugged Karakoram Range, tall spiky mountains as far as the eye can see, and magnificent peaks that loom menacingly a few hundred yards off each wingtip.

But the pilots and ground control picked their flight days well; the weather was glorious coming and going, the fresh snow swathing the mountains like very expensive cream.

Pukhtoonwala--Live!

I was met at the airport by Inspector Y, a hawk-faced young PNCB (Pakistan Narcotics Control Board) Inspector (three pips on his epaulets, equal to an Army Captain). His was the face on the cover of Olaf Caroe's The Pathans: lean, courteous, grave and implacable, the exemplar of Pukhtoonwala, thePathan code of honor, courtesy and revenge. He was my driver and bodyguard for the trip. (Gilgit is famous for its sectarian clashes between the aroused clerics and followers of the Sunni and Shia parties, aggravated by the heavy weaponry, up to rocket launchers, used to attempt resolution of differences. Many intersections were guarded by a white-gloved solder, snapping signals smartly at the traffic, with the added gravitas of a .50 cal machine gun mounted on his kiosk.)

Going Directly to Jail

So off we went to the prison. While waiting for the prisoner, I chatted with the guards and the superintendent. It was now about 0815, and a group of prisoners was seated in the sun, idly talking. A number of free people were mingling with the prisoners. No chains, no cowed expressions, and the superintendent was very proud that in his jail there were no interrogation (torture) cells as in the "down country." An oddly friendly atmosphere, mountain folk guarding mountain folk with an offhand dignity.

Soon the prisoners were brought: the "American" and her Norwegian...

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