Right after September 11, 2001, I found myself packing again—this time to leave Pakistan for possibly four weeks, four months, four years, or forever. We were evacuating to Europe, so I needed to weigh my “treasures”. 

Hospitality was a prominent quality in Pakistan. At every home we were welcomed, “Salaam alekum. Come, come. You must have chai.” Even as we shopped, chai was proffered. Sometimes it was green chai - a sweet, unfermented tea. Most of the time, it was that hot, fragrant, sweet milk tea made with cardamom - almost a meal by itself when made with rich water buffalo milk. The contrast was great - the richness of the chai and the poverty of the people.