Thur 18th Sept
We were up early today. A 5am start, today's journey would be even longer. We are on the road by 6am, the KKH from here to Islamabad is smoother and countryside greener. As we expected there are delays due to the numerous police check points. (They are everywhere in Pakistan but here even more.) At one, which was most bizarre, we were required to enter the police mud hut where officers were sleeping on the floor, to have our photographs taken on a web cam connected to a Computer!
Our journey along the KKH was uneventful but long, one of the jeeps develops a problem, it is spewing oil everywhere so we have to keep stopping to fill it up again. By now it is dark, we are in Abbotabad, a very large town/city. At this point I suspect everyone is vibrating my celestial morse code receiver! How ever I describe this will only be fraction of the reality: trucks are everywhere and they rule the road, they are bigger than anyone else and drive where they please; headlights are only for flashing with to tell other road uses you are coming through no matter what; buses are lethal, they have their own very sinister sounding horn and stop for nothing, if you hear this horn - get out of the way! All vehicles overtake and undertake, usually at the same time; the side of the road you use is any you can get on; the hooting is incessant; the pace is fast, overcrowded and there are no rules. Our driver will deserve every bit of his his tip!
After 14hours on the road, we reach Islamabad, mercifully everyone is in one piece. This is the hotel we stared in. Was it really only three weeks ago? It feels like a life time!
Fri 19th sept
I had hoped that I would be able to close this Pakistan chapter by saying that we had met the challenge of Pakistan; not overcome it but met it. I was wrong. Just as the end was in sight, Pakistan crept up behind me and flattened me! I had managed to cope with having tummy ache everyday, with bodily functions that we deemed normal for Pakistan but for which you would consult a Doctor at home. Not today, though, it got me! I was stuck in the loo not knowing which way to turn. Every bit of me hurting and legs like jelly. I didn't want to miss my last day, I tried but failed to see the capital city. Against his wishes I told Richard he should go, how could we leave without a single picture of the Fisail Mosque? Whilst there Richard has a serious conversation with Karim about the state of Pakistan. Karim knows it's problems are due to religion, there are over 70 different sects in Islam and none will agree with another. Historically, Pakistan was a Buddhist country, I cannot help but wonder what it's fate would have been if it had remained that way?
I miss the last meal and saying Goodbye to everyone. We are due to leave at 2am to catch our return flight to Istanbul. Richard mutes that perhaps we should delay our departure a day? No no no, I just want out! This is not how I wanted the experience to end, sometimes when you are away there comes a point when you feel ready to go home. I just feel ready to go anywhere!
We arrive at the airport but not without throwing up at the entrance! I must look well enough to board the plane, once we are out of Pakistan air space I don't mind, just get me on that flight!
Sent from my iPad
Fay
Saturday, 27 September 2014
Bah Humbug!
Wed 17th sept
We have two very long days ahead of us, including the parts of the KKH the Karim had previously been trying to avoid. Despite the very bumpy road, which we are sort of used to by now, it was an enjoyable drive. Once again Pakistan's incredible scenery saved the day.
We were as ants, in comparison to the sheer cliff faces that surrounded us. There were, of course, rock falls. Huge stripy rocks, as if a jar of giant humbugs has fallen from the top shelf. At the end of "humbug valley" we came to Mother Natures Doodle Pad. Great mineral seams swirled and coursed across this enormous natural graffiti board. Miners work and live in the most dangerous of conditions, extracting gold, silver, precious and semi precious gems. Their death rate is very high, perched as they are half way up these mountainous rock faces, digging out caves; with, of course, not one bit of safety equipment in sight.
After 10 hours, we reach Chillas and our hotel for the night. By Pakistan standards, at first sight it appears reasonable. As usual though, the bathroom is filthy! It is beyond me to understand why a country and an industry, so desperate to resurrect their tourist trade, which was instantly killed dead by 9/11, would not clean a room when guests are expected? The lack of facilities is understandable and to be expected on such a trip. Pakistan does not have a constant electricity supply so things like internet and hot water are rare, fair enough. Why, oh why, though can they not clean what they have got???
Unusually, there is hot water here but we still can't shower as it is set to scolding and there is no cold! I discovered this after I had made an attempt to clean the bath of years of dirt and hair. There never had been a chance of me getting in with bare feet, as there was a dirty great hole in the bottom of the bath. No need for a bath plug, the water just goes through the hole, back up the open drain beside the bath and thence on to flood the floor! Yes, there was a sit down loo but it had no loo seat.
We discover later, that this whole area is to be dammed.(I already had!) so I could understand the lack of maintenance, no point paying out for a hotel that is destined to be at the bottom of a hydro dam but that is still no excuse for not keeping it clean!
No women work in hotels. By now I have my dander up, so my opinionated rant is that what Pakistan needs is strong dynamic women at all levels, to set the standards. Faint hope of that though, as hide themselves behind their veils, so downtrodden they don't even do their own shopping. That is done by the men, including clothing etc. generally women are just not seen. Wake up girls, where is your suffragette spirit? Are there no Ulster women craving peace, no Dagenham women to fight for rights?
Sent from my iPad
We have two very long days ahead of us, including the parts of the KKH the Karim had previously been trying to avoid. Despite the very bumpy road, which we are sort of used to by now, it was an enjoyable drive. Once again Pakistan's incredible scenery saved the day.
We were as ants, in comparison to the sheer cliff faces that surrounded us. There were, of course, rock falls. Huge stripy rocks, as if a jar of giant humbugs has fallen from the top shelf. At the end of "humbug valley" we came to Mother Natures Doodle Pad. Great mineral seams swirled and coursed across this enormous natural graffiti board. Miners work and live in the most dangerous of conditions, extracting gold, silver, precious and semi precious gems. Their death rate is very high, perched as they are half way up these mountainous rock faces, digging out caves; with, of course, not one bit of safety equipment in sight.
After 10 hours, we reach Chillas and our hotel for the night. By Pakistan standards, at first sight it appears reasonable. As usual though, the bathroom is filthy! It is beyond me to understand why a country and an industry, so desperate to resurrect their tourist trade, which was instantly killed dead by 9/11, would not clean a room when guests are expected? The lack of facilities is understandable and to be expected on such a trip. Pakistan does not have a constant electricity supply so things like internet and hot water are rare, fair enough. Why, oh why, though can they not clean what they have got???
Unusually, there is hot water here but we still can't shower as it is set to scolding and there is no cold! I discovered this after I had made an attempt to clean the bath of years of dirt and hair. There never had been a chance of me getting in with bare feet, as there was a dirty great hole in the bottom of the bath. No need for a bath plug, the water just goes through the hole, back up the open drain beside the bath and thence on to flood the floor! Yes, there was a sit down loo but it had no loo seat.
We discover later, that this whole area is to be dammed.(I already had!) so I could understand the lack of maintenance, no point paying out for a hotel that is destined to be at the bottom of a hydro dam but that is still no excuse for not keeping it clean!
No women work in hotels. By now I have my dander up, so my opinionated rant is that what Pakistan needs is strong dynamic women at all levels, to set the standards. Faint hope of that though, as hide themselves behind their veils, so downtrodden they don't even do their own shopping. That is done by the men, including clothing etc. generally women are just not seen. Wake up girls, where is your suffragette spirit? Are there no Ulster women craving peace, no Dagenham women to fight for rights?
Sent from my iPad
More affluence, less effluence!
An easy day, we visit another fort. This one has been turned into an up market hotel. Skardu is so different to Gilgit and the other towns we have seen. There is redevelopment here as well as many educational institutions. We see lots of well dressed children going to and from school. The biggest surprise though, was to meet the manager of the Fort hotel...a woman!! She isn't just the first woman in a senior role we have seen in a hotel, she is the only woman in any role in a hotel or any other establishment we have seen. Hoorah, finally some hope for improvement in Pakistan.
As Richard put it, "there is more affluence and less effluence in Skardu!" To finish the day we have the opportunity to watch a polo match.
At supper time, Karim has to break the news that we cannot fly back to Islamabad. There is only one plane and it is broken!
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
New Week, New Mood
The day dawns bright and sunny, there is a clear blue sky and a perfect view of the snowy mountains behind us.
The start of our last week in Pakistan, sees us heading for Skardu, via the Desauri pass. Any remnants of our low mood, as washed away by the phenomenal scenery we see today. Lush pasture and green hillsides giving way to their autumn mantle. The Kashmiri people are travelling back to heir homeland, with never ending streams of goats and heavy laden horses behind them.
As we leave the beautiful valley, we have an even greater treat in store. The pass, previously closed due to the early snow is now drivable - just! It is an incredible sight and one we otherwise would not have seen. Golden marmots amble along through the whiteness. The piles of snow beside the track glow with a fantastic aquamarine heart. Where the vegetation peeps through the snow, autumnal shades of reds, yellows and oranges look like warm embers melting through the icy whiteness.
It is a hard drive, our jeep slides and slithers, this way and that. Ischard just laughs and says "the jeep is dancing."
Today has been a stunning day.
At a low ebb
The last three days and nights, we have been at our lowest ebb. The time we spent in Hunza was definitely the best part of the trip so far. The hotels were good, by Pakistan standards and although the people were poor, there was not the same level of deprivation, we were always met with smiles and friendliness, we felt comfortable browsing around the shops. Katherine and I both agreed that had the trip finished after the first week (which felt like a month, we had done and seen so much) that we would have left Pakistan with a quite different opinion.
This weekend is to be spent in Tarrishing, in a wooden shack with a tin roof! The journey here was extreme. This was the road that had been blocked by landslides and snow. En route we watch how the local people resolve the problem of a truck getting stuck under some cables; you bend the truck! Everyone is on constant watch of the precarious cliff faces. We pass through towns were the atmosphere is tangible, there is heavy army presence and once again we are escorted. Personally I would have felt happier with our band of dancing policemen, rather the the one aged one we have now. For the first time we see anti USA graffiti. We have already been made aware that to extremists there is no difference between Americans and Europeans.
As we traversed this adverse terrain, we did have to admit that this trip has shown us our own boundaries, this is as far out of our own comfort zones as we want to go. Fortunately, Richard and I have the same limits.
To give myself some lighthearted reassurance, I find myself imagining a heavenly switchboard. High tech Angelic telephone operators sort the calls into SOS's, non urgent requests and grateful thanks. Each deals with their allocated country. There in a darkened corner, is a dusty, old morse code receiver, set to pick up any random, silent prayers sent to a Christian God from the Islamic world. Well, may I please ask the busy switchboard operators to cast an occasional glance in that corner because if that receiver starts to vibrate, it will be me!!
After a bad nights sleep, we have a trekking day. Karim would have liked to take us to base camp but knows no one is now fit enough. With difficulty we reach a picnic spot and can go no further. The trek wasn't harder than the previous one but as a group we are weaker, the tummy upsets and subsequent reduction in food consumption, together with lack of sleep and the altitude is taking its toll on all of us.
Chris found a "short cut" across the rocks today, which I have to admit pushed me, not literally over the edge but certainly mentally. His route was far beyond my capabilities but Richard got me over it. In the most unladylike fashion I told Chris exactly what he could do with his next good idea! Oh dear, Trace, that's not good for group cohesion.
Karim is keeping a careful eye on the weather, it is raining on and off. Should the rain increase we have to quickly pack up and get in in jeeps before we became stranded by more landslides. In such a situation we would either have to sit it out or be helicoptered out!
Dust, Diahorrea & Deprevation
We left Kalash early in the morning, complete with our policemen and travelled on toward an area with a natural hot spring. Lunch was in a hotel that was being renovated to nigh on Western standards! Oh why aren't we staying here? Chris and Roy even take a swim in the naturally spring heated swimming pool!
Richard is still unwell and skips lunch along with Roy, for whom we had to stop the jeep en route in order for him to throw up. Both manage the smallest portion of rice at dinner time, back at the hotel in Chitteral with the intermittent electric and therefore, intermittent hot water. I think hot water in a bucket was a better plan, at least you knew how much you had and when.
Thurs 11th Sept
After a night spent in the bathroom, Richard feels well enough to venture a piece of toast. Pakistani toast is not like ours; the bread is sweet and sort of fried on one side. We have a long journey today, back tracking down the severely off road road on our way back to Gilgit. We already know it is too far to go in one day. Groan, groan camping again!
The location is better, above the highest polo ground but the facilities are worse than ever. On arrival Richard has no choice but to use what pretends to be a loo. It is foul! By now I no longer care if it offends anyone's Muslim expectations, I am not using that toilet and neither do I care that there are no bushes I am peeing outside! My white, western bottom cannot offend them more than their toilets offend me!
We both decline supper, Richard because he is unwell and me because having risk assessed the situation, both the likelihood of risk and the possible severity of risk score is off the scale. Thank heaven I snaffled a packet of Rich Tea biscuits into my luggage for just such an occasion. It appears that Katherine, too is following suit. Roll on tomorrow. I didn't think I'd actually want to go back to Gilgit!!
Fri 12th Sept
After a sleepless night, I ache all over. Richard is now throwing up as well as being "squitty" my heart has hardened towards the Pakistani people. They have enough untapped resources and foreign aid not to be in the state that they are. To my mind they are in a third world state because they choose not to drag themselves out of it! Why do they accept their squalor? Even if they can't agree with their neighbours, why don't they improve their individual surroundings? You would think that the police, being educated people, would not accept the state of the huts they have to live in when posted to these check points.
Later, I ask Karim this very question. Totally bewildered, he just says "but why would they?"
Richards tummy problems are helped by some antibiotics. (Here they are not prescribed by a doctor, you just buy them!) Christina also spent the night vomiting and Chris still has diahorrea.
We say good bye to our happy band of policemen today. At first we thought they were quite officious but after the incident where they got their vehicle stuck and we laughed at them, they relaxed, joined in and helped with all sorts of things. If I had my photo taken once, I had it taken ten times; especially by the chief who even ventured an arm round my shoulder for one pose! Before departing they turned the music up and treated us to a show of dancing.
After a long and bumpy ride through the dust; there is dust everywhere in Pakistan; everyday we are a strange shade of grey, we arrive back in Gilgit. Today can be summed up in three words: dust, diahorrea and deprivation !
The one good thing about Gilgit is the hotel we stay in. It has hot water and a clean, comfortable bed.
The day ends well, with everyone enjoying a game of cards and Karim, under threat of mutiny, agrees to no more camping!
Into Taliban Country
Richard is feeling delicate, so we miss the walk into the bizarre. Chitteral looks only a tad different to Gilgit so we skip this dose of deprivation. The others return at lunchtime, our late arrival is now here together with the other guide, Jahangir. After lunch things get serious, we are to be escorted by half a dozen armed police - we are heading into Taliban country!
The roadway is equally serious, the full Monty of off road tracks here. Jahangir tells us that last year it impassable, so they walked for 4hours each way to reach the village of the Kallashi people. In places the road is so bad that the police vehicle gets stuck. Not so our driver, dear old Ischad takes the greatest pleasure in showing them how it should be done! At home Ischad would definitely be the king of boy racers, with the most pimped up scooby in town. He is a character and much more of a "bad boy" than the gentlemanly Zachir, who drives the other jeep.
At the end of this pretty hair raising journey, we reach the most delightful village. We are staying in a sort of log cabin. Hot water is delivered at 8am in a bucket. It is lovely. The Kalashi tribe are a matriarchal society. Their costumes are bright and beautiful, their hair which is plaited into four sections comes well below their bottoms and is crowned by headdresses of the most intricate beadwork. The women are not veiled and walk with confidence, their heads held high. Soon word is out that we are here and children start to peep over the wall, giggling. Our guards remain with us at all times. While we sleep, they are on watch in the garden.
Tues 9th Sept
Together with our armed guards in their bullet proof vests we set off on foot to the next village. Having walked about a mile or so, we are stopped by the Pakistan Army. They pull rank on the police and stop us from going any further. It appears that the Taliban have infiltrated the village we were heading to. What happened next was just surreal. There we were, with our armed police, sat in the shade of a walnut tree, under the threat of Taliban insurgents, enjoying glasses of cold lemonade served to us by armed soldiers! Refreshed, we walked back the way we had come!
It is very hot today, so it is not until 4pm that we set off exploring again (in a different direction.) The women of our group are not allowed to go to some places! Why? I thought this was a matriarchal society? It is but not in way I hoped, is it only called matriarchal because the women do ALL the work? I also discover that what first appeared a delightful village, is only delightful where we are, as our later excursions were to prove.
Richard is still feeling unwell, so I go to the inner village and into a typical Kalashi house without him. I suppose that only having used one box of Imodium between us, since our arrival, was too good to be true!
Going to the village and into the house was like going back in time, hundreds of years. The raised walkways are no wider than a plank of wood. How do they manage in the snow and ice? The roof of one house is the veranda of the next, so you have be careful not to trip over a chimney pot! Inside, there are no windows, a dirt floor and a wood burning stove in the middle. The chimney of which goes up through you neighbours veranda. Apart from that, there are just beds.
What a challenge, to maintain the Kalashi way of life and culture and at the same time to improve their living conditions. This tribe is one of the few pagan tribes left.
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