On Through BadakhshanOn Through Badakhshan The road became kinder as we moved north and east. The valleys were verdant and the peaks impressive in their rugged proximity. We came upon a large group of men maybe twenty in all, who were struggling to carry a great log amongst themselves. It must have measured 12 inches of more in diameter and more than twenty feet in length. The size of a telephone pole. We stopped to exchange greetings: “Khub asti? Chetor asti? Az khojastad, Mistahr? Koja medi?” “Mandana boeshi”. Were we well? Where were we from and where were we going? Don’t be tired….The encounter was so friendly and heartfelt, that I had the brilliant idea that we could help these tired farmers with their task of moving the pole. So, maneuvering the VW mini-van carefully over the log, tires straddling the huge thing, I positioned the front and rear bumper in such a way that we could lift one end and tie it to the car with a heavy rope and then do the same on the other end. Thus the log was suspended beneath the van and we moved slowly forward, being certain not to collide with or snag it on any of the large rocks that were strewn along the road. We had no idea where we were taking the thing, but just inched forward in first gear as the group of now happy farmers tagged alongside and chatted with one another. This went on for nearly an hour when suddenly they called out to stop. The pole was unlashed from the van, they said their thanks and we said our goodbyes and on we went. It was a good cross-cultural exchange and we all had a lot of laughs and saved these men perhaps a week’s work in the process.
We arrived in Feydzabad shortly thereafter. As luck would have it we were invited to spend the night at the home of a US Peace Corp volunteer whose name I am sorry to say has been forgotten to time. After two days in the old city, touring and photographing the markets we set out for Eshkhashem and beyon The road led up a beautiful narrow valley flanked by high cliffs with the roaring Kowkche River running along side. The ferocity of this river was amazing. Our little VW could have been swallowed in an instant and ground to pieces with no trace to be found. This was another location in Afghanistan that was simply unforgettable. We drove on several hours more when we were confronted by an Afghan Army checkpoint. The guards wanted to see our permits to allow us further passage. And even with our charm and a rather substantial offer of “bakshish” we were forbidden to go further. We did, however, acquire the name of the commandant back in Feydzabad who could issue such permission.
We headed back to locate this man with all haste. We found him the following morning and received limited permission to continue into the Pamir. We had three days to travel – make it as far and possible and return by the end of the third day or he would send out a party to bring us back – under arrest. He meant business. But it was better than nothing, so we back-tracked to the check point, presented our papers and went on until we found a suitable spot by the river to camp. We decided to stay there and climb the wall of the canyon to see what lay beyond. After a day of climbing and hiking we slept another night by the Kowkche and returned just in time to Feydzabad. |
