In Autumn 1972 the USS Trippe sailed into Karachi, Pakistan. Philip Morris and I rented a Victoria (Horse-drawn buggy with driver) for $10 a day. We saw the sights at a slow pace, such as a camel caravan with the guy in charge riding in a cart behind the last camel. I asked our coachman why. The coachman had a kid with him during the day who acted as his interpreter and he told us the camels know where they are going.
One morning our Victoria coachman took us into town. As the horse pulled us by a park, I watched a truck stop ahead of us. The passenger got out and started kicking the people who were asleep on the ground. If they didn't move, he yelled to the truck driver who got out and helped him toss the body into the truck's bed. Our coachman's interpreter told us that the truck comes by every morning to remove the dead.
On our last night, our coachman, with broken English, asked us if he could stop at a building and be gone for a few minutes. He came out in about twenty minutes. He was very stoned and could barely climb into his seat and grab the reins. He lifted his whip and yelled, "Hi-ho you fuckin horse." Luckily, his horse knew how to get us back to the dock.
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