WEDNESDAY OCTOBER 7, PTUP TO KHOROG DAY 8
As our bedroom becomes our breakfast room, there will be an intermission while people get up and move out and pack up the blankets and such. Aussie couple is the first up at 6 a.m. and they are out for a walk. This is their custom every morning. By the time I get up, only Canada and New York are still in the room. I'm not sure how everyone else got up and moved out of the room without me hearing them but they did. Canada was taking a while to get ready so I walked out of the gate myself and watched the kids walk to school.
There was a gate that lead into the school grounds so I went into the gate and thought just to look around. There was a lot of noise and laughter towards the back so I walked back there and the headmaster came out to see who I was and what I was doing
. Nice that they were watching the safety of the kids. Probably would have been arrested had I wandered onto school grounds in England or the States. So I talked to him about the school and what the kids study. By now, most of the kids had stopped playing volleyball and wandered over to see what we were talking about. He explained that many knew English but were afraid to talk. I told them they needed to be bold and he liked me for that and repeated it loudly to the kids. Told him I liked his country very much. We had some differences in telling time but I finally figured out school was about to start and I needed to get back for breakfast so I left. Had a few jealous tour members that I got to look at the school and talk to the headmaster.
All of us are so looking forward to tonight because we will be staying in the same place for two nights. First time on the trip to do this. But of course, a long drive to get there. We have been driving along the Afghan border for a while and will continue today. Supposedly there will be places where we see watch towers and border crossings and also will see people walking along the paths and also bridges that they have made over very dangerous and scary footbridges to get over streams and rampaging water courses.
It is obviously a very poor country across the river from where we are driving
. Sometimes there is a road but often there is just a path and no motor traffic at all but we do see pedestrian traffic and people on donkeys but usually just walking. We are all watching to see anything and usually someone calls out when they see a person on the path and we all take photos or snapshots as our car is moving. Our road is extremely bumpy so hard to get good shots unless we see something really great, then we stop.
In some places, the river is quite narrow and when someone is on the path at that point, there is a lot of joyous waving (on our part) and seemingly on their part too. These are all people whose only lot to get anywhere is to walk for miles from one village to another. And then in some spots, there will be a village that is much more prosperous with lovely fields and excellently maintained rock fences and herds of cows or goats with lovely blankets spread out on the rocks to dry. It goes from dirty and dusty and barren to lush and rich and "normal" and back again. On occasion, there is also a motorcycle running along the path which delights us no end to try and catch a snapshot of that. The laden donkeys are more fun though to see.
So after breakfast, off we go to start experiencing all the wonders that the mysterious and inaccessible country of Afghanistan has to offer us as we drive the border
. Along the way, we stop to watch a harvest where they are plowing with cows in harness with a hand plow and also digging up potatoes. They are happy to go round a few times with the cows so we can take photos and also they are happy to let us have a go with finding the potatoes. Nice ladies digging up the potatoes and we find a bunch and put them in their buckets. They try and give us some potatoes to take with us but with no way to cook them, kind of a moot point. Jamshed does end up with half dozen potatoes in his hands though.
We see a donkey caravan go by on the road across the river so we stop to take about a zillion photos – one for about every 3 feet they walked, just to make sure we have photos of people in Afghanistan. They look at us rather strangely. Slava likes to make jokes about everything he sees over there so he sees the donkey caravan and first thing he says is it is a drug caravan. He finds this outrageously funny but we can see that they are conveying something like cotton.
We see one rickety bridge across a waterfall. Later we see a couple of equally rickety bridges but nothing like our program said we would see. We see a broken down truck which Slava immediately says is a Taliban truck. Who knows, maybe it is. There is no one around the truck so guess it’s been abandoned while they walk to somewhere to get whatever they need to fix it
.
We are having a bit of trouble finding water to have in the car. We’ve been lucky that the program has kept water in the car every day for us so that we can all drink enough to not get altitude sickness and other things. Today Slava stops at several stores before he finds one with water bottles. For some reason, we piled out of the car and went into the store. It was a wonderfully small place but held everything possible that you could need for your home, your kids, your personal grooming habits, your kitchen or your farm. In a room the size of about 14x14 square feet, it was chockablock with bins of pastas, beans, and rice. Shelves of cans and bottles of cooking sauces, canned goods, laundry detergents, shoes, kids toys, kids clothes, women’s scarves, candy, cookies, breads, some meats and some frozen foods in a small freezer, lamps and chandeliers for the house, tools for the farm, eggs, toilet paper, cleaning supplies, and just on and on and on. I stood and just marveled that they could fit so much inventory in such a small space. We were taking up pretty much the whole store and other customers were having trouble getting in so we had to decamp from this amazing place and go back to the car and wait for our water purchase.
We had another unexpected stop along the road
. There is a place where the water comes out of what appears to be a cavern or cave and rushes under the road and over a small dam and on into the river that divides the two countries. It was a marvelous small waterfall and cave just gushing water out with no apparent view of where the water entered. I thought it would be a good idea to play Pooh Sticks – the delightful game that Winnie the Pooh plays with Piglet. You drop two sticks in the water at the same time and rush to the other side to see whose stick arrives first. The only one who knew the game was London. We had a hard time finding two sticks. We threw them in and mine got hung up immediately on some of the rocks. London’s came through, we think. We needed much bigger sticks. It was nice that someone else knew the game. Never came across another place to play though.
At one point, there was a crossing bridge from one country to the other complete with border checks and soldiers but we zipped right past it and most of us didn’t even notice it until it was gone and by the time we had asked what it was and found out, we were way past it and too late to go back. Might not have been the smartest thing to take photos of anyway but it was a real sticking point for some of us not to have been warned at least that it was coming up. We could have done photos from the car.
Today is Wed and we came to the place where there is a Saturday market every Saturday between the two countries
. There were buildings on both sides and a bridge and everything was deserted and locked up behind gates. On the Saturday market day, it is a “free pass” day where anyone from either side can walk across the bridge and make their purchases and come back to their side without having to go through soldiers and passes and visas etc. According to the guide book, this included just about anyone who happened to be there. Nothing was said about nationalities, just anyone could show up and cross the bridge and shop. What the hey! IF this was so, the trip could have easily been organized so that we would have been there on a Sat. All of us would have walked across the bridge and bought something. What a chance, probably my only chance ever, to have walked into Afghanistan. However, just looked it up on TripAdvisor which says the market has been closed for several months and not sure when it will be opened again. Also did say you could get a quickie Afghan visa in Khorog and take a taxi to Ishkashim, Afghanistan for a few hours. That would have been interesting as well, I’m sure. Nobody mentioned it to us, with good reason probably. We all would have been trooping over there.
We eventually move away from the river a bit and drive into Ishkashim for lunch. This is a big “metropolis” in that it has a traffic light with actual timers for the pedestrian traffic to cross as well
. Wowzer. Haven’t seen that in a good number of days. The vans park in front of a restaurant which is now apparently closed for the season. Rather than driving us to the second choice, we are all out of the car and walking back uphill to the second choice restaurant which turns out to be almost a mile away. Seems like anyway. There is a hand washing station outside the front door which consists of a wash basin and a piece of soap and a bucket which someone comes out and fills with water so it will drain into the basin by gravity and we all have a hand wash. A couple of our homestays have had these types of wash basins outside the front door as well. Guess running water is very slowly moving inside.
Lunch is the usual affair of tomatoes and cucumbers cut up for salad, a lagman soup (the country’s known for this soup apparently which is a thick noodle with broth and sometimes some lamb). Actually, we found out that even if you order vegetable soup, you will get a piece or two of lamb in it. Every soup comes with some meat in it. New York swears that this is not a good lagman soup. Sometimes we get a choice of soup and usually then I get borsch as for some unknown reason, I like it even though it is made out of beets. And if you don’t want soup, usually there is a grilled meat choice but that’s usually mutton (frequently called lamb but rarely soft and tender) or sometimes chicken
. There is always bread. And sometimes you can order both courses of soup and a meat. It’s always a bit confusing if we are paying for ourselves or is the tour is paying. We finally are told that if we are staying in a town, they we are paying ourselves. If we are on the road, they the tour pays but it’s still confusing because we’re in a town now but still on the road as well. Usually we just wait to see if Slava keeps the bill or hands it to Jams to start telling everyone what to pay.
After lunch, we have to wait in line for the one toilet which is flush. Always a plus. We are outside behind the restaurant where there are two old fashioned large rice pots built into an oven with fire capabilities underneath. Don’t think it is being used anymore.
Out around the building and back into the cars. Anatoly is in the lead car for a while. Usually he hangs behind because this has been his first trip driving this tour and so he doesn’t know everywhere to go. He drives in front when he is pretty sure it is just going to be straight for a while and then he’ll pull over and wait for Slava if he is not sure where to go. This time, he should have been looking in his mirror. Slava pulls over and stops in front of a gaily decorated building and hops out and runs into the building – no explanation – just gone. Jamshed says it is a museum. We’re watching Anatoly pull out of sight when Slava comes back and says it is open. Apparently being open is an infrequent occurrence. Now Anatoly is totally out of sight.
We climb out and head into the museum and Slava floors the van and races after Anatoly to find him and bring him back
. You’d think they’d have a way to communicate with each other rather than chasing each other down in the car because they drive pretty fast. All told, it must have been ½ hour before they returned to the museum.
It is a Wakhani museum. These are the people from the area. We have been staying in Wakhani homes. From Wikipedia: “”The Wakhan is located in the extreme north-east of Afghanistan. It contains the headwaters of the Amu Darya (Oxus) River, and was an ancient corridor for travellers from the Tarim Basin to Badakshan.
Until 1883 the Wakhan included the whole valley of the Panj River and the Pamir River, as well as the upper flow of the Panj River known as the Wakhan River.[1] An 1873 agreement between UK and Russia split the Wakhan by delimiting spheres of influence for the two countries at the Panj and Pamir rivers, and an agreement between Britain and Afghanistan in 1893 confirmed the new border.[2] Since then, the name Wakhan is now generally used to refer to the Afghan area south of the two rivers. The northern part of the historic Wakhan is now part of the Gorno-Badakhshan Autonomous Province in Tajikistan.
The only road into the Wakhan is a rough track from Ishkashim past Qila-e Panja to Sarhad-e Broghil
. Paths lead from the end of the road to the Wakhjir Pass, a mountain pass leading to China which is closed to travellers.
The western part of the Wakhan, between Ishkashim and Qila-e Panja, is known as Lower Wakhan, which includes the valley of the Panj River. The valleys of the Wakhan River, the Pamir River and their tributaries, and the terrain between, are known as Upper Wakhan.
The eastern extremity of Upper Wakhan is known as the Pamir Knot, the area where the Himalayas, Tian Shan, Karakoram, Kunlun, and Hindu Kush ranges meet. West of the Pamir Knot is the Little Pamir, a broad U-shaped grassy valley 100 km long and 10 km wide,[3] which contains Chaqmaqtin Lake, the headwaters of the Aksu or Murghab River. At the eastern end of the Little Pamir is the Tegermansu Valley, from where the closed Tegermansu Pass (4,827 m) leads to China. The Great Pamir or Big Pamir, a valley 60 km long valley south of Zorkol lake, drained by the Pamir River, lies to the northwest of the Little Pamir.
The mountain range that divides the two Pamirs is known as the Nicholas Range.[4] West of the Nicholas Range, between the Great Pamir and the lower valley of the Wakhan River, is the Wakhan Range, which culminates in the Koh-e Pamir (6,320 m)
.
The roads in the region have small shrines to Ismaili Muslim pirs and are adorned with "special stones and curled ibex and sheep horns", which are symbols of purity in the Hindu and Zorastrian faiths, once present in the region before the arrival of Islam.[5]
Wakhan Corridor[edit]
Main article: Wakhan Corridor
The Wakhan is connected to Tashkurgan Tajik County, China, by a long, narrow strip called the Wakhan Corridor, which separates the Gorno-Badakhshan region of Tajikistan from the Khyber Pakhtunkhwa and Gilgit-Baltistan of Pakistan.
Wakhan between Pakistan and Tajikistan
The Wakhan River flows through the corridor from the east to Qila-e Panja where it joins the Pamir River to become the Panj River which then forms the border.
In the south the corridor is bordered by the high mountains of the Hindu Kush, crossed by the Broghol pass, the Irshad Pass and the disused Dilisang Pass[6] to Pakistan.
History[edit]
See also: Durand Line
Historically the Wakhan has been an important region for thousands of years as it is where the Western and Eastern portions of Central Asia meet.
Western Wakhan (休密 Xiumi) was conquered in the early part of the 1st century CE by Kujula Kadphises, the first "Great Kushan," and was one of the five xihou or principalities that formed the nucleus of the original Kushan kingdom.[7]
Until 1883 Wakhan was a principality on both sides of the Panj and Pamir Rivers, ruled by a hereditary ruler (mir) with his capital at Qila-e Panja.[8] In the 1880s, under pressure from Britain, Abdur Rahman Khan the Emir of Afghanistan imposed Afghan rule on the Wakhan.[9]
Agreements between Britain and Russia in 1873 and between Britain and Afghanistan in 1893 effectively split the historic area of Wakhan by making the Panj and Pamir Rivers the border between Afghanistan and the Russian Empire.[2] On its south side, the Durand Line agreement of 1893 marked the boundary between British India and Afghanistan
. This left a narrow strip of land as a buffer between the two empires.
In 1949, when Mao Zedong completed the Communist takeover of China, the borders were permanently closed, sealing off the 2,000-year-old caravan route and turning the corridor into a cul-de-sac. When the Soviets invaded Afghanistan in December 1979, they occupied the Wakhan and built strong military posts at Sarhad-e Broghil and elsewhere. To facilitate access they built a bridge across the Pamir River at Prip, near Gaz Khan. However, the area did not see fighting.[10]
In 2010 the Wakhan was reported to be peaceful and unaffected by the war in the rest of Afghanistan.[11]
Demographics[edit]
wakhi, kyrgyz and khowar are the major ethnic of wakhan. Wakhan is sparsely populated. The total population is estimated at about 10,600.[10] Most of its inhabitants speak the Vakhi or Wakhi language (x̌ik zik), and belong to an ethnic group known as Vakhi or Wakhi. Nomadic Kyrgyz herders live at the higher altitudes.[12]
According to a 2003 report by the United Nations Environment Programme and Food and Agriculture Organization, the population of Wakhan suffers from lack of education, poverty, ill health, food insecurity and opium addiction.[10]
Wakhi[edit]
Main article: Wakhi people
The Wakhi population of Wakhan was 9,444 in 2003.[10] Almost all of them adhere to the Shia Ismaili faith.[12] Wakhi people also inhabit several areas adjacent to the Wakhan in Tajikistan, Pakistan and China
.
The Wakhi practice agriculture in the river valleys, and herd animals in the summer pastures at higher elevations.
The dominant sect of Islam in the region is Ismailism, much milder than the strict form of Islam generally practiced in the country. However, in Ishkashim, the city at the western mouth of the Wakhan, stricter observance is demanded. The area has been long neglected by the central government of Afghanistan and the people are poor, many being traditional pastoralists living in yurts and lacking basic services. However non-governmental organizations such as the Aga Khan Development Network have taken an interest in the area. The Central Asia Institute, founded by Greg Mortenson, has built 11 schools in the region.[11]
There is a trickle of tourists who engage in trekking and mountaineering.[11]
Alastair Leithead on BBC News 24 on 26 December 2007, presented a half-hour feature about Wakhan, focusing particularly on the work of expatriate British Doctor Alexander Duncan, which provided a significant piece of extended media reporting from this inaccessible area.[13] He has also covered the Pamir Festival in the area.”””
So we have been mixing it up with the Wakhan people for a couple of days, watching them farm, staying in their houses, eating their traditional foods and such
. These are the people who have been so incredibly friendly and kind to us and happy to see us. This tiny museum is devoted to their history. The museum curator is a retired gentleman who has written several books on the Wakhan people and their history and that includes a book that was translated into English and which Walking Aussie bought and I am sorry that I didn’t. Of course, now I can’t find his book anywhere on line because I didn’t write down his name. woe is me.
He wanted to start telling us things right away but we told him we had to wait for the other van to arrive. He settled down in the rebuilt Wakhan house and picked up a traditional instrument and was going to play but we also told him to wait for the entire group. He didn’t speak English so Jams was translating this for him.
Now we got a few songs on the instrument and he also sang a couple of songs. Wasn’t bad. Then he showed us the traditional dress and we wandered around the museum looking at the implements that they use in their farming (we have seen these being used) and also some of the clothing and such. He also had some Marco Polo sheep horns. This is the indigenous sheep of the area – meaning Central Asia. They are large sheep with spiraled horns and it is good luck to include the horns in your architecture either in the fence or over the door
. Now there are not so many of these sheep left and quite hard to find and see. They are quite high up in the mountains so we never had a chance to see them.
Another treat in store for us that is not in the program. We cross the street to visit an old fort. This is up a hill on a cliff but not as bad as the other places so I can do it. At the foot of the path leading up to the fort is a family that has set up a souvenir stand selling typical Wakhan hats and scarves and some other things such as bead necklaces. We are happy to try them on and see what’s up but nobody buys. Canada says she will buy when we come back and she does buy a hat and scarf. As we are driving away,, the family pulls down the stand and packs up. We will be the only visitors today apparently.
Up to the fort, not a hard climb but some big steps in spots. I get up without a problem but Jamshed decides it might not be a good idea to let me climb down by myself so he’s there to give me a hand almost all the way down. The fort has an excellent view over the river and into Afghanistan. There is a very nice farming area across the river with well laid out plots of land and fences and such. It looks very prosperous from this location. Have found online where we were in spite of not writing it down at the time
. we were in Namadgut. And here’s what is said from the Lonely Planet online: “””At Namadgut, some 15km east of Ishkashim, a lumpy, muddy hillock rises right beside the road, topped by a series of mud wall fragments from the historic Khaakha Fortress. The oldest sections are Kushan-era (3rd century BC), but the site has been reused by many other cultures since, and indeed part of the mound was used as a Tajik military watch post til very recently – the site stares out across the border river directly below. It's worth a 15-minute stop. Gravel pathways and steps make exploration relatively easy.
Amid trees facing the eastern fortress knoll is an Ismaili mazar (tomb), one of many places in Central Asia that claims, quite unconvincingly, to be the final resting place of Ali, the Prophet’s son-in-law. Next door there's a fairly minimal museum. The most interesting part of a visit is dressing up in a Pamiri chakman (judo-style woollen robe) while director Odinmammad Mirzayev plays one of the traditional musical instruments, demonstrates the archaic flint fire-stone or shows you his extensive family tree. “””
I suspect that our museum guy is the one named above but I could not find his books online in English so have missed that opportunity
. And it was definitely the Khaakha Fortress that we climbed to see into Afghanistan. I do recall the names once seen again.
We have one last surprise before we reach Khorog and our guesthouse for the night. We pull up to this huge mound of something white. It is another hot springs and this one is a mineral springs. The water has been flowing over the rocks and formed these white cliffs that look very much like Pamukkula in Turkey used to look before they started running out of water. We were asked if we wanted to go in and have a hot bath. No one was interested except Walking Aussie, Mauritius and me. Even though we were in the minority, we sort of jumped on it and found a toilet because there wasn’t one inside anywhere (had to walk up the road and into someone’s guesthouse. The toilet was inside a brightly colored garish tent with no roof. Anyone walking down the same road could see over the side and look into the tent!). The men’s bath place was open air. The women had several rooms so we ended up with a private room and a bath about 3’ deep and the wonderfully mineral water with scrubby salts on the bottom of the bath. We didn’t stay too long because we were well aware that the others were waiting for us and not too happy that we had chosen to go in for a bath. But as we didn’t get a bath last night, it was too good to pass
.
Then we are off to Khorog which is a fairly large town and the capital of the autonomous region of the area: the Gorno-Badakshan Autonomous Oblast (GBAO).
Our guesthouse is on the main street and down a driveway which is blocked with a large gate. When we arrive, Jamshed has to knock on the driveway gate and someone comes to let him in. Good. We have rooms. This is a compound with the owners home and kitchen in one building and a couple of other small buildings as well then the large guesthouse where there will be only our group and three Russian travelers in residence so we are treated as if we are the only visitors there and are asked if we each want a single room of our own. There are two rooms that are doubles so Canada and I take one and Aussie couple takes the other. At first, they took the double room that was on the first floor but as my knee was bothering me and as Aussie couple has bounded up and down hills the entire trip, I asked if they would mind changing rooms with me. They said they wouldn’t mind so they went upstairs to the other double room above us with much jocularity that they wouldn’t bounce the bed too hard.
Downstairs in rooms next to us then were Mauritius in her own room and London in a room
. Everyone else went upstairs to single rooms. We have no key for our room so when I ask about it, I figured Aussie couple took it with them since they had started to be in this room first but our host explained that the last visitors before us had left with the key and he had not had an additional one made yet. Mauritius offers to let us keep anything tempting to steal in her room which we do at first but then just don’t bother. We aren’t worried about it here. London has trouble with her door and I become the door opener and closer for her, always managing to lift and lock or unlock and she can’t. kind of fun to be needed. We have one room with a flush toilet for the four of us and one room with a shower for the four of us. What heaven!
Canada and I are both tired. I’m tired too and not that interested in Indian food which is where the group is supposed to be going for dinner. That is always too much food for me to eat. So we decide to stay in our room and eat protein bars. She only has dark chocolate ones or coconut ones so we end up eating our own and have nothing to share but we’re happy and it’s the first we’ve been alone since we started driving pretty much so we’re catching up on past trips and things on this trip and having a great time. I take the time to call my hubby on my mobile even though I know it will cost a bit but I haven’t had any communication with him in days and I know he will be worried. So I call and briefly talk to him and let him know that I am fine and OK. He is so happy.
No comments:
Post a Comment