High Alert

The bad news: my cycle is stolen.

The good news: the police force was just put on high alert to retrieve it (I've heard of undercover teams roaming the markets) and the story has been firmly plugged into the media. Four national channels have been or will be broadcasting about it and three daily newspapers will cover it in tomorrow's paper.
What stings is that the theft took place inside the premises (locked, walled, armed guard at the gate) of the civil hospital where Shazia and I had our appointment with the physiotherapist. Many Pakistani's I spoke with feel ashamed that someone who has pedaled approximately 16000 kilometres to reach, who is doing voluntary work, is the victim of crime.

I'm not optimistic about the recovery (the proverbial needle in a haystack), but let's see. Now that the attention comes up like a cake in an oven, I can imagine the thief getting more and more nervous. It might be a needle too shiny to hide in a pile of hay.

An sms that I just received (I've been receiving a crazy amount of quasi poetic messages since I got to Pakistan):

"If a drop falls into a lake
There's no identity
But if it falls on a leaf or a lotus
It shines like a pearl"

A cycle stolen in Amsterdam goes by unnoticed, a foreign bike nicked in Pakistan becomes national news.