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Diary Acesta este jurnalul lui Jan. Pentru a primi o copie prin mail inregistreaza-te pe formularul de contact. Momentan jurnalul este numai in engleza, catalana si spaniola.
‹ Previous (23/07/2008) LUNA Next (2008-09-21)› ‹ Previous (2009-09-03 - India) TARA Next (2009-09-26 - Iran)› Pakistan Multan (see on map) 24/08/2008:
David and Maria decided to keep travelling with me. On one side, now that i was alone I needed the company, a good company, because with David and Maria i get along very well, maybe because after of so much time travelling was easier to adapt to new ways of doing things and new friendships. I also felt good, because Maria likes to cook and she cooks very well, and David different times drives while I work with the computer. On the other hand, to David and Maria also seemed to like this new way of travelling, stopping at any point to eat, not worrying where they would sleep, bu always looking for a safe place; and visiting places of relative interest that in another way they would not have visited. We left Quetta in the morning, crossing the Bolan pass, famous for the numerous battles that were produced and the armies that crossed it to enter the lands of Afghanistan, among these, the British army in the years 1839 and 1878. From the Bolan pass we started to go down through a troubled and stony valley, passing the night in a police control, due to the existence of a family of bandits that fight from the mountains to recover their estates lost in the hands of the government. The day after, we followed the stretch, with the intention of visiting the ruins of the city of Mehrgarh, populated for about 5 millennia up to its extinction about 2000 years BC. Anyway, the stony path that crossed the river was in such a bad state and we did not arrive. However, we arrived at night to the ruins of Moenjodaro, the most important of Pakistan, a former city of about 40.000 inhabitants that was occupied until the year 1500BC, when for unknown causes the population decayed abruptly. In any case, in spite of its intriguing history and the extension of its ruins, which keep the square of the streets and the base of the homes made of bricks, Moenjodaro did not impress us. Much more were impressing us the visual effects that Pakistan was supplying us with during our itinerary .The landscape had passed quickly from the desert to the humid fields of rice, where the people, always nice, swarmed everywhere, the men dressing shirt and wide trousers of light colours and the women very colourful, but always with the hair covered up and the youngest with a hood on the face covering them up, looking through a woven fence. Often we crossed pretty painted lorries, full of adhesive or sculpted with wood or metal, which made me increase day by day my desires of transforming the autocaravan in the hands of a Pakistani artists. On the roads there were few private cars, but that's not why they stopped surprising us, for example one of these was loading a cow. Much more present were the bicycles, that they loaded passengers up to four or two passengers but a broken bicycle; or the motorcycles, which loaded passengers up to five (all the family). From time to time, we also had to advance enormous camels dragging wagons, small donkeys pulling carts full of bricks or cows carrying their own food. It also surprised us the deteriorated buses painted with great skill but without crystals in the windows (poor Alexandra she must have had had to catch one of these), or the tractors equally tuned and with loudspeakers with the music pointing forward. In the surroundings of the road the show also followed one another, with big ponds of brown water where big buffalos were refreshed while the children swam around them; noisy markets of fruits, fried dishes and breaded meat full of flies; dogs eating a dead cow or crows eating a dead dog; ... Anyway, there were details that I could not grasp, as the smells, David and Maria were in charge of which transmitting to me efficiently: the smell of shit, of rubbish, of sewer, of dead water, of dead hens, of on-fried dishes, of spices... although the last smell got used to define as positive most of the times. The following visit after Moenjodaro was Sukkur, a city to the edge of the river Indus that has a mosque with a minaret of bricks of 26 meters of height from which an impressive sight was enjoyed. Exactly in the other side of the Indus was found the village of Rohri, where we visited a golden mosque that possesses a hair of the beard of the prophet Mahomet. More in the north we visited the modern mosque of Bong, with quite curious artistic details, and from here we entered the province of Punjab, which started to surprise us every time with more interesting monuments. First we visit the palace Sadiq Garh, built in the 19th century and belonging to the family Abbasi, a falling family of an uncle of Mahomet that dominated the middle east more than 5 centuries, and many more in Pakistan. Afterwards, we went towards the desert of Cholistan, the same desert that is extended in Rajastan in India, up to the magnificent fort of Derawar, which also belongs to the Abbasi family. The fort is surprising, with some walls of bricks of more than thirty meters of height, a square perimeter of 1,5 kilometres and 40 enormous bastions around it. Also one, built with white marble and imitating the same lines of the mosque of the red fort in Delhi. We arrived to the fort at night and when parking in front of the mosque, a group of boys came to greet us and told us that they were assisting a three day spiritual retirement. As it already keeps being habit in Pakistan, one of them asked me if i was Muslim and in an educated way I answered that, no although i was interested in Islam. Happy for my answer, he invited me to attend one of the prayers that the boy kept translating me: "All the things in the world have a creator, as a clock has a watchmaker behind, the world has Allah as creator". Afterwards, when explaining to him that I had read the Koran, he told all the other ones that I would be a good Muslim in a near future, without me daring to contradict him. The day after, we walked the surroundings of the fort Derawar and even the other side of a lake where there were some very pretty tombs fenced also belonging to the Abbasi family, but where we also had the entry vetoed (in the same way as to the fort). Anyway, seeing that on one hand we could jump the wall and climb it afterwards again, David and I sliped in to admire the impressive mausoleums covered with ceramics of blue tonality. Mid-morning, when the sun started to burn, we left the fort towards to the town of Uch Sharif, where in the afternoon we visited the tombs of different Islamic saints, that preached the Islam through the area, one of them, with the honour of having converted the invader Genghis Kan to Islam. Some of its incredible mausoleums were destroyed, preserving though pretty details with blue-decorated pottery, and others were completely standing, with tens of pilgrims parading among the tombs inside, giving alms and revering the central tomb, always covered with clothes and ornaments of hindu aesthetics, although all the symbols were Muslim. Little later, after doing different photos to the pilgrims that continuously asked us to be photographed, a couple of musicians arrived, touching a wind instrument and another of percussion. The pilgrims started to dance uninhibited around the musicians, and even I, taken by the joy of the moment, I gave my camera to Maria to add myself surrounded by shouts in the middle of the dancing crazy rhythm. Finally, we have today visited Bahawalpur, a city with numerous palaces, that also belonged formerly to the Abbasi family but that at present is in the hands of the army, which restricts the entry. So, the main attraction that we found in Bahawalpur was the zoo, that, despite being in conditions much worse than the zoos of Europe, was much better than some of the zoos that we had visited in Africa. And meanwhile, during these days that we were travelling through the south of Pakistan, Alexandra had just been decided of returning with me, risking a lot more than what not accepted some days before, and almost without exchanging any mails, sms or calls, reported about four days ago that she had already initiated her journey towards Pakistan, that yesterday in the morning would arrive in Zahedan and today in Quetta, where for luck Ullas could host her. And from here in two days, finally i will arrive to Multan where we will join her, expecting this experience to have changed her character a little and to accept more easily the natural vicissitudes of the journey. 27/08/2008:
Alexandra arrived yesterday in the morning, tired of so many days of journey. On the contrary to what should have meant, our first meeting was not in a complete way romantic, for I was not sure if i wanted her return and i didn’t trust that Alexandra had changed the character or the illusion to follow the journey, and naturally, my coldness provoked an immediate bad humour. The following hours, we had some discussion, even threaten ourselves of separating another time, but finally today, have granted solemnly in front of David and Maria to give each other a new opportunity and the rest of day i have cheered up thinking that maybe yes, the things would be different and better from now on. On the other hand, even if I and Alexandra were blocked, the joy that Alexandra provided the family that was housing us in Multan since two nights ago, surprised me. Aqsa, her brother, the small sister and the mother had come to look for us on Sunday in the night in front of a hotel of Multan. They seemed quite rich family and half repressed by the tradition and the appearances and almost without too much secrecy told us to follow them with the autocaravan to the house of their uncles, where they made us park and after went up in their towards their home, where it seemed that we could not enter with the autocaravan because it was in a militarised area. Their father received us in the house and conversing about the country we started to break the ice. First he explained us that he was lawyer, but as the majority of lawyers in Pakistan was in strike since more than one year ago since the general Musharraf had dismissed the judges of the high court, that wanted to dismiss him. Few days ago Musharraf had resigned on the pressures of the party of Benazir Buttho (PPP), but the strike continued because this party did not want to establish new judges; these could then investigate some dark plots of the PPP. Afterwards, the father asked us which were our studies and profession in Spain. I answered that i was engineer and i had a small enterprise, but when arriving the turn of David, he answered that he was carpenter. And in the face of all of them was shown surprise, Maria answered without being asked that she worked in a restaurant. Immediately they changed subject, for the answers did not square them with the profile of traveller, especially taking into account that these works were very little remunerated in Pakistan, but indirectly, David and Maria were saying to them that in Europe the work of one was not so important and that anyone can accomplish his or her dreams, as the one of carrying out a long journey, if one is ready to make sacrifices, like saving every cent during a year, to be able to travel about four years using up less than 300€/mes between both like david and maria do. Anyway, even if the family started to appear more open, they did not seem yet in a complete way comfortable with us, so we passed quite a lot of hours in our room to intervals enjoying the air-conditioning, then, as in all Pakistan, the cuts of light were recurrent and punctual: from 17 hr to 18 hr, 21 hr to 22 hr, 23 hr to 24 hr... And during these hours, as the rest of the family, we died of heat since their ostentatious home of Austrian style seemed to retain the heat more than any other. In any case, the following day (a day before Alexandra arrived), all the family and we got up in the minibús that they had and visited some monuments of interest of the city (among these, a fort and some mausoleums), while the father explained the greatness of Multan, where his family had lived from innumerable generations. he explained us that Multan was the oldest inhabited city in the world, together with Damascus, and assured us that all the blue-decorated pottery of the area (or of the world) had its origin in Multan and that the best mangos of the world were evidently of Multan. But Alexandra arrived and despite being tired, she revolutionised the family explaining that she liked a lot some Pakistani traditions and especially the dresses of women and that she would like to buy one. On the other hand, she also made all of us laugh when she told some anecdotes of her journey, exaggerated, as always. So, with the family more open, we went in the afternoon for another round through the city and to try to find some fabrics for the dress of Alexandra and another for Maria, which had also decided with the idea about a dress. But despite going over numerous shops, they did not find any cloth that enchanted them in excess. And today in the morning we have said goodbye to the family of Aqsa and an hour later, when we already threaded the road towards Lahore they have sent a message to us explaining that they missed for us. Although it had been complicated to break the initial ice, it has been a very good experience for all, and maybe more for them, who had managed to go out for three days of their routine. Anyway, for sure that from now they would start to host many more travellers through couchsurfing and these extraordinary experiences for them will be more frequent. At night we have stopped to a gas station to sleep. While we organised the autocaravan a little, Maria has started to converse with some girls and when returning she has explained that one of the girls has told her innocently that all the Christians had to die burned. Alexandra had also explained that in the train she had met a man who argued that the Christians wanted to kill all the Muslims, but that that would not happen because before that the Muslims will kill all the Christians. I have commented that one should not forget that some Pakistanis expressed themselves this way, for in the Koran it is written exactly, even if in other chapters is also writing that has to treat with respect the Christian and Jewish. On the other hand, according to the media and the same Pakistanis, Pakistan has many Taliban’s infiltrated, who are mostly hated, because apart from killing Christians in west, they also kill many Muslims who are not radical enough or which collaborated with the government. Lahore (see on map) 04/09/2008:
During the road we made towards Lahore, the autocaravan arrived to the record of 100.000 km gone around the world and at present for this milestone, I decided to adorn it as a Pakistani lorry. Good, in fact i already had thought to do it before complying this milestone, but these 100.000 km do not stop being another reason, no? I had luck that Alexandra had returned from her journey through Iran and Pakistan changed, so on the contrary to what i would have waited from her, she also appeared thrilled with the idea about painting the car. I was also very fortunate with David and Maria that committed themselves to help me if it was necessary, and especially of meeting the family of Amina, which was lodging David and Maria for about four nights. Right the day after meeting, her brother Zulfiqar, a lover and salesman of cars, accompanied me where they painted buses. We were negotiating a good while the prices to paint the autocaravan, but I in the end discarded the option for its cost in money and time (they had to paint all the autocaravan and then repaint it artistically). Then I thought in the other decorative option amply used by buses and Pakistani lorries: the adhesives; and we went to three or four points of the big city until in the end I decided to buy the some adhesives to make some proofs with the car. The day after, me and David (Alexandra and Maria went to the bazaar to buy some cloths for themselves) started to pull out the old adhesives and to plant the new Pakistani adhesives, starting to realise that we would lack many more adhesive and that we had a lot of work ahead. At night I went with rickshaw to the bazaar to buy the second series of adhesives and the day after, the four (me, Alexandra, David and Maria) discarded the visit of the city and we dedicated all the day to keep pulling old adhesives and to plant the new ones. The following day we gave eachother a rest and visited the city and buy still more adhesive, in order to continue the following day with an exhausting day planting adhesives, leaving almost totally decorated the autocaravan. From here we had two more days of rest, and today in the afternoon finally we have added the last adhesives. The result is a wonderful autocaravan, different to the Pakistani lorries (which have 100% of the body covered up of adhesives and paints), but excellent equally. It has been a work of about 100 hours (thanks to David, Maria and Alex!) and little more than 100 euros in adhesives, a cost not excessively high to transform an autocaravan from snob to hippy. Although my mind was very occupied organising and designing the transformation that was suffering the autocaravan, i could abstract myself sufficient to enjoy the time and days that we were visiting the city of Lahore, the second biggest city of Pakistan after Karachi, with 10 million inhabitants. The first night that we spent in Lahore we visited a show of excellence, of obligatory assistance in Lahore: the sufí night that is celebrated every Thursday in the mausoleum of Baba Shah Jamal. When we arrived around 12 in the night in the small site it was totally tight of men and it was about three hours since the three musicians knocked frantically the big drums with hypnotic rhythms. As we were foreigners and had two women among us, the crowd let us sit in the first lines, on the ground, in front of the musicians and in the middle of different smokers of marihuana and hashish. The delirious rhythms followed the following hours tireless, being mixed among these, the music of a saxophone and latest of a singer that repeated some incomprehensible verses. Without feeling the crossing of the time, after about two hours, a couple of men with sticks put aside the people that occupied the space in front of the percussionists, an area that immediately was invaded for different dancing that moved violently the heads from right to left while they entered some state of ecstasy. I also tried to follow the rhythm in the same way, leaving that the drops of sweat came off for the inertia of my crazy hair, but had to stop, because i felt that the blood was accumulated at the periphery of my brain and if i continued i would enter in a mental state that i could not control. Around three, the percussionists finished the performance, but the music did not finish, because under the mausoleum, other percussionists and more dancing followed with the rhythm, but we already turned over towards home. Apart from attending the sufí night, we visited for two days the pretty city, visiting different mosques and mausoleums, among these the magnificent mosque of Badshahi, in front of the big fort of Lahore. As we go out from the mosque, we are taken by the crowds of the old town, attending and being part at the creation of an impressive jam. In spite of the big population of the city and the small streets it does not seem that there is too much traffic in Lahore (the proportion of families that possess car is probably little) although the bad driving causes numerous jams as we witnessed one: A car wanted to pass through a street where only one vehicle fits(because of other badly parked cars), but could not pass because in front he had a queue of cars in the contrary direction and neither was able to pass because of the first. But the first, instead of going behind to leave space for the other ones, insisted to keep trying to pass until other cars arrived from behind making impossible that any of them could move away. The created jam took more than one hour to melt. But this type of jams also pass in the streets of double lanes (or triple), because when the traffic remains slightly retained, some cars start to advance the free rank, occupying the contrary lane. But in the other meaning it happens the same, so that suddenly two ranks of cars in contrary meaning face each other without possibility to go ahead or to move away. For me it is strange that these Islamic societies that are so altruistic (as for hospitality and charity) are so egoistical in the driving. If they had a little patience, letting the cars from the other direction pass, they should only wait 10 minutes, but they do not want for anybody to pass before them or in front and so they prefer creating a jam of one or two hours. It is a pity that the Koran does not dictate any norm of behaviour to the steering wheel, because then, all the world in the Islamic countries would live much better. In any case, in Lahore we had the opportunity of running into different people, with whom we exchanged reflections more interesting than those of the traffic. Amina introduced us one night with a group of friends, and during the road to the restaurant Muhammad explained us that in Pakistan, few terrorists occupy the covers of the journals leaving most of the Pakistanis, that do not share at all these ideas, in silence. When asking about the finances of the talibanes, Muhammad answered that the smuggling of the opium (contrary to the Koran), but also some interested country in destabilising Pakistan, and another time rose the name of US. Anyway, Muhammad also admitted to me that before, all the bad things that happened in Pakistan was the fault of India and now of America (United States). Once arrived to the restaurant, the friends of Amina started to talk and to make jokes about the marriages that are aranged, explaining that if he does not find a good match, he expects his parents to find a good girl, or even, could compare which of the two girls was better (his girlfriend or the proposal of his parents). The following night Nabeel was the one who invited us to dine, and we maintained other interesting conversations, and some common to the previous night, explaining with reference to the aranged marriages, that there are very few divorces, for the families choose the best beaus from psychological and physical profiles. With reference to the talibans, he did not appear too optimistic, opining that these could take the control of some regions of Pakistan, because the talibanes are infiltrating every time more in the society. The penultimate day in Lahore, we left the autocaravan almost completely decorated and went to the border of Wagah between Pakistan and India, where since 1948 (a year later of the partition between India and Pakistan) the pompous military ceremony of the descent of the flag and the closing of the border is celebrated daily. The Indian side was bursting with people chorusing cheers < India Hindustan zinabad, similar to the Pakistani side Pakistan zinabad, which was much emptier due to the Ramadan that had started about two days ago. Ramadan is celebrated in the ninth month of the Muslim calendar, during which the Koran was revealed to the angel Gabriel, who later transmitted it to the prophet Mahoma. During the thirty days that Ramadan lasts, all the Muslims refrain from eating, drinking, smoking, or practicing sex, from the dawn up to the setting of the sun, in order to show patience, sacrifice and humility. In Lahore it seemed that the follow-up was major, with the majority of shops and work shops closed, but with the people trying to stay fresh in the shadow ,to sweat the minimum and to pass less thirst, the main enemy when Ramadan falls in summer (the Muslim calendar is lunar and a year Ramadan is shorter, therefore, every year happens 11 days before according to the solar calendar). We, by education, tried to eat and to drink secretly, although often the people invited us to drink or to eat in spite of them fasting. But not all the world fasted in Lahore, it surprised us to observe next to a mosque some vendors who smoked and drank concealed. On the other hand, when returning from Wagah through the deserted roads (when the sun had set, all the world was drinking and eating) the two only boys who attended us in a gas station told us that they were Christian, and after cheering up that we were also, made a signal of contempt for the Muslims. --- In Lahore I interviewed Amina that considered that the main problem of the world is the poverty. The governments should facilitate more education to solve the poverty. she personally collaborates in an ONG to improve the education of the country. The main problem of Pakistan is the lack of energy, which affects the work and the house life (with constant cuts). The solution would be to build more dams, to accept help from Iran or to leave that among private investment. Amina is considered happy, because she has married recently, has good friends, work... although she would be happier with more holidays. The secret of happiness is to be happy with what you have or to have some goals that can be achived. Watch video in youtube Karimabat (see on map) 14/09/2008:
The last days in Lahore I decided together with Alexandra (whom surprisingly was also thrilled with the idea) of going on the motorway of Karakorum, that would separate us from David and Maria, with whom we thought to meet for Christmas in the south of India. On the other hand, this visit at the heights would allow us to avoid the heat and to let us take care of some skin irritations that are provoked by constant heat, sweat and humidity. We start to go towards Islamabad with a certain fear, for it did less 48 hours that the talibans had tried to murder the president of the country, shooting from the road at few kilometres of the capital. Besides, our autocaravan is now much more obvious, although we also expect if we meet some talibans to confuse us with a Pakistani lorry (quite unlikely). In any case, the main danger was a storm of rain and wind of an intensity that we had not witnessed since Cameroon. At night we reached Manshera, after having crossed different villages that formerly had been dominated by Sikhs but at present were occupied by the Pashtuns, an Islamic tribe with a strict code of conduct who occasionally get to radical positions or to talibanism. In Manshera they did not, probably for this reason, let us sleep in a gas station nor in the parking place of a hotel without surveillance and they suggested us to park next to a police control. The day after, with the sun up, we followed the journey towards the north, going straight a road among terraces of rice and of corn crossing 1670 m of altitude, that in spite of the relative little height, we were feeling dizzy and made us stop an hour to take a nap. Following the curved road without haste, we reached mid-afternoon Thakot on the edge of the large river Indus, where we thought to go up on a small road to a small town, but the last rains had caused landslide and the road was temporary cut. So, tired, we have just reached Besham where we slept in the closed parking place of a hostel. The third day of journey it could be said that we entered the real Karakorum highway, going at all times going above the fast Indus river and maintaining the balance in the wall of sheer stony precipices. Little after going out of Besham, the colour of the rock changed from grey to greenish, telling an interesting story initiated about 50 million years ago. 130 million years ago, the Indian continent came off the supercontinent Gondwanaland, travelling adrift about 80 million years until it was startling with the Asian continent, catching in the middle of the collision a group of volcanic islands that had a colour of rock more greenish and full of shining minerals. The highest mountainous massifs of the earth: the Himalaya and the Karakorum, were formed thanks to this collision, which has not been finished, for the Indian subcontinent keeps advancing about 5 annual cm into the Asian continent, provoking the continue growth of its mountains (7 annual millimetres for the K2) and numerous earthquakes (in 1974, thousands of people died in one of the worst earthquakes of the recent times). As the road rose, the vegetation (among this the marihuana growing freely regardless of the asphalt) disappeared and the ground kept turning more sterile, except for small green areas where the earth should be different and was cultivated extensively. Meanwhile Alexandra did not stop of commenting that the inhabitants of the Karakorum lived in the paradise, as in her country, surrounded with mountains and gathered together in small villages. At night we slept in a police fort in Chilas and on the following day, when following the path, we start to be able to observe the big treasures of the Karakorum highway, its high mountains and the petroglifs. From Chilas, in many points close to the Indus river we could see the petroglifs, drawings and inscriptions recorded on big rocks some of which date in the first century, representing Buddhist temples and images of budha. In spite of the altitude of the mountains of the area, the Karakorum was (and is) a natural route that connected China with India and the Middle East, being crossed since the first centuries by commercial caravans that established the origins of the silk route and that extended through the valleys the dominant religions, first the Buddhism and centuries later the Islam, which comprises the whole of the current population. Also as we advanced towards the north East, some of the highest mountains of the Karakorum started to appear in front of our astonished eyes. First, the ninth highest mountain of the earth and said to be the killer mountain, was on our right, Nanga Parbat (8125 m), because during the second world war it killed up to 31 members of 4 different German dispatches. The Majesty of the Nanga Parbat remains magnified by its vertical position, one of the most sharpest elevations of the earth, that in only 27 kilometres is going up 7000 metres (from the river Indus up to the summit). Also the peak Rakaposhi (7788 m), which we started to observe in the north, impressive by its vertical growth, that only in horizontal 16,5km is raising up to 6000 meters ( from the Hunza river up to the summit). But not all the show was pleasurable, since in numerous times, the asphaltic road was corrugated or evident signals of passed rock falls, but these complicated crossings of the road were not the worst thing, because in a given moment we observed a great dust cloud falling from the top of a mountain. We stopped undecided, but immediately advanced us a lorry and so we continued, circulating under the cloud of dust and going out on the other side after little while. So, more convinced we followed the course towards the cascade of dust that kept falling, but we discover horrified that besides dust small rocks bounced on the ceiling of the autocaravan, and scared that no bigger fell, I pressed the accelerator in depth until we went out on the other side of the dust cloud with only a fright as misfortune. Little after this fright, in the afternoon of the fourth day, we arrived to Gilgit, the biggest town of the North of Pakistan, that had to belong to India during the partition of 1947, prevented by a revolt that revoked the decision of the local maharajá. In Gilgit we were two days, the first buying stuff in the bazaar, the following morning visiting a relief of budha sculpted in a stony wall in the west of Gilgit and extending my visa for Pakistan, in the afternoon fixing the protection of the car that vibrated and on the following day changing a tube of the oil of the servo steering, which i had already fixed one time in Lahore but it still dripped. Surprisingly, after two working hours, the service did not want to charge me anything, we were their guests they told us. In the afternoon we went out of Gilgit crossing an insecure suspended bridge, for the main bridge of the Karakorum highway had fallen, and we went towards the north, leaving behind the river Indus that was going to search the waters in the highest summits of the Himalaya and going to the valley of Hunza river, that reserved for us the great snow peak of Rakaposhi and of other mountains more in the north. After passing the night in a parking place of a school, the day after in the morning we arrive to Karimabad, the main touristic attraction of the Karakorum, that has an interesting fort dominating a small town full of trades and hotels in front of the majestic mountain of Ultar II. Karimabad had been the capital of the kingdom of Hunza, that since the fifteenth century had competed bloodily with the neighbour kingdom of Nagyr, due to an unsatisfactory inheritance that the previous king had divided the kingdom between two of his children. Anyway, it seems that the kingdom of Hunza was more victorious, and proof of that is the fort of Altit, more in the north and in reconstruction, and the fort of Baltit that we visited as soon as we arrived Karimabad. A local guide was put in charge of showing us the three levels of the fort, commenting that the Tibetan aesthetics was owed to a wedding in the seventeenth century of a prince with the daughter of the governor of the valley of Baltistan (nearer to the Himalaya), that brought craftsmen to improve the construction. Thanks to these improvements, it surprises the superior plant, with marvelous sights on the valley from pretty balconies and rooms worked with wood. When lowering from the fort, Alexandra wanted to enter each of the small shops that there were in the main street, although the shop assistants opened them especially for her, because we were almost the only tourists. One of these shop assistants explained us that every time there were less tourists, for the unstable situation of Pakistan, but especially since the 11 of September (which year?) The occidentals like to celebrate anniversaries, but end up remembering the day but not the year). Anyway, the tourists should not worry for the possible presence of talibans from Gilgit, for the inhabitants of the valley of the river Hunza are ismaelits Muslims, a sect developed from the shiits created by the disagreement about which son had to succeed the sixth mullah. On the contrary to the Shiits, the ismaïlits have continued with the succession line of mullahs until the present day, up to Aga Kan IV, who lives in Geneva, and is owner of a big fortune, that he destines to different social projects to carry out through the area. The ismaelits have a faith more personal and less established regulations, because of that they are more opened minded (expression used by one of them) and open with the new cultures. And for example they explained to me that the fasting during Ramadan is a personal option and that many eat and drink at home, out of the sight of those that want to fast. Anyway, in spite of the few tourists, we did make friends with two Australians Brendan and Caroline, with which we decided to dine. While we dined they explained us that when they were young (now they were about 50 or 60 years) they travelled for about 10 years, overland and on sea, all the world. And when explaining their memories on India and Pakistan they told us that they were the two only countries of the world that had not changed in the last 30 years, with the same bad smell and dirt, except for the mobile telephones. The day after I made a trip with Brendan, Caroline and some Japanese to the glacier of the Ultar II peak, a good hike through a path that crossed different precipices, Karimabad being at about 2500 meters and the glacier breaks at about 3250 meters. The day after we followed the route of the river to the north, visiting before some pretty mosques exquisitely decorated with wood cut into the village of Ganish, after Karimabad. We slept in Gulmit village where there were numerous apple trees with apples as good as those of Romania (according to Alexandra). So, while Alexandra stole apples (in some cases with licence of the owners), I did another hike up to another village above and the ruins of a castle while I kept crossing with very curious and nice peasants. And finally, I have done today the last excursions. First we have directed with the car a little more up to Passu, where in theory we had to observe a big glacier arriving up to the road, but instead of that we have only seen the broken road. Afterwards I have done a hike from Passu next to a lake under a big glacier that fed a river (in fact, the Karakorum is the part of the earth with more glaciers apart from the polar regions), and later, i walked a little on a suspension bridge on the Hunza river that was horrible to cross over, for there was only a wooden cross street every half a metre, insufficient to prevent the eyes from nailing the look in the turbid waters. Rawalpindi (see on map) 18/09/2008:
We got out of Karimabad late but with haste, for Alexandra had decided to extend her visa in Gilgit, not to remain short of days. We went with time to arrive before two o’clock, the hour that the offices of the police closed, but in accounts of the small road through which we had passed as we went out of Gilgit, we followed through the main road, but after about fifteen kilometres, without any type of indication, we found that the road ran in a fallen bridge. Then we understood why they had diverted us through the small road when going out of Gilgit, and although we renegade this small road, we had to turn about fifteen kilometres behind to take it. And in the same way that the previous time, we had to cross a suspension bridge that frightened a little, because with the heaviness of the auto caravan it became quite deformed. With everything that happened we arrived late and we decided to stay until the following day, while I made use of the afternoon to stick the last adhesives on the autocaravan. The following day we arrived around ten to the offices of the police, but as we feared, they made us turn every hour because the responsible person had not arrived, up to one o’clock, until Alexandra could collect the passport with the extension of visa. We got out already eaten and with desires of doing kilometres towards south, but the unexpected had yet to come. An hour after going out of Gilgit we found a rank of lorries and cars stopped in road, in a point in which the road was cut in a stony precipice. We stopped behind the queue and went out to ask why they were stopped, but nobody present seemed to speak English, so, I continued to curve up to the place from which I could observe the cause of the retention walking about fifty meters through the road: a big rock of about 4 or 5 meters of diameter had broken off from the mountain blocking the road together with many other rocks of considerable measures. When I arrived it should have passed about 20 minutes that the stone had fallen, and already there was a group of men trying to put stones of one aside of two meters of diameter to empty a corridor between the wall and the big rock, but when seeing that they could not move a big stone by these means, they decided to start to pile stones up to create an abrupt path on the big horizontal stone and for the side of the rock large of 4 or 5 meters. After little while a motorcycle passed, afterwards tried it a tractor, getting the towage blocked , but raising its weight among different people it could be unblocked and continue. And in the same way they kept trying it 4x4, that got used to scrape a side with the big rock, and even small cars, which remained hanged on the horizontal rock consequently scraping the basses. An hour and a half later, a big machine came with the intention of demolishing the big rock, but this gained the pulse to the machine and they had to go to warn the Chinese that were working the road more above to come and dynamite it. Meanwhile, the 4x4, cars, tractors, minibuses and small lorries of both sides kept fighting to decide who was blocked first on the rocks and went out afterwards thanks to the brute force of the volunteers. And naturally, between the people that looked above that did not fall more stones, and the rest that strolled from one side to another, the first jams of cars caused by the impatience of the drivers that if they saw a free hole they entered, without thinking that the cars in contrary direction would not have space to pass. And finally, after about two hours and a half, the Chinese arrived with a big drill and the explosives, and as by art of magic, the cars and the people kept being moved away from the surroundings of the rock until they left about 50 meters for one side and the other side deserted, moment that the technicians made use to detonate 3 charges, but these were not sufficient because the machine could not take out the obstinate rock, and the Chinese had to introduce two more explosives in the rock so that this crumbled up considerably. Happy because shortly we would go out of the bottling, I expected the machine to start to put the most manageable rocks of measure aside, but surprisingly the digger was not put in progress. In the darkness, I asked some men who were there smoking what was happning and where were the people, and they told me that the driver of the digger and the rest of the people were eating, the hours of fasting of Ramadan had already finished. So, we had to wait for about fifteen minutes that the digger was started off and another hour ans a half that took to release a lane, moment in which all the engines went on to continue in a fast way with the planned stretch. Was eight and, among horns, we also added ourselves to the parade up to the following village, where we parked in a sort of deposit that had the doors of the courtyard open just for a moment so we could see inside. The day after we woke up early to follow the journey along the waters of the indus river. We did quite a lot of km and only at the end of the afternoon, reaching Besham, we had some small fright, when, in the middle of a storm, on two different occasions, on the asphalt to less than two meters in front us fell stones of the measure of a hand. For luck none fell on our autocaravan and we could reach Beshan without any incident, where we have spent the night. And today also we have done quite many km, reaching almost Islamabad, although in the morning we had about four hours to visit the valley of Alai, where we could not go the first time because of the rain and the fall of the land. The narrow road towards Alai raises a vertical kilometre from Thakot (close to Besham), close at all times to the Indus, of which about 20 kilometres of circuit can be observed from the summit of a cliffs, with marvelous sights on the valley of the river. From the cliff I have done a small walk up the mountain up to enjoy still better sights, but from there I have observed that in a hill a little more down, the show already would be insuperable and I have started to go down the small road. But a boy from above has warned me that the path was dangerous (he only knew how to say the problem word). I have gone up again, but as he did not offer me any alternative and more info I have tried to continue down the small road a bit. But the shouts of "problem, problem" have made me stop again and look behind. Then, making gestures to try to be more understood, he has represented the posture of shooting. Then I have understood and have asked "taliban?" , and the boy, happy to have been made understood has exclaimed: "yes, taliban!, while he indicated me a home down for where it passed the road. And naturally I have turned and decided not making the photo, in exchange for not risking receiving some bullet in the head. 20/09/2008:
Rawalpindi is a city more old, important and bigger than the close Islamabad, even if the latter is more known because it is the new capital of Pakistan, built in the 1960s. Anyway, few monuments of interest remain in Rawalpindi, due to its turbulent history, favoured by its strategic situation. In any case, we did not come to Rawalpindi to visit the city, but to see how they decorated the Pakistani lorries and to write an article that i had asked for on this subject. Anyway, when we arrived to the centre of Rawalpindi they commented us that it was Friday and that all the factories would be closed. So, we went close to the mall for where we walked a while to look for a calm place to park. After two weeks without treading on any big city, we decided to go out to dine, but when going out of the car arout 7 in the afternoon Alexandra became alarmed by the possible explosion of a bomb or the imposition of the state of siege, for together with the noise of some distant siren, the streets were almost totally deserted of cars and people. But when arriving to the restaurant (an American fastfood), this was full to burst and we immediately understood that it was the hour when the fasting is finishing for the Ramadan and people are at home or in the restaurants. And while we dined at a table between happy families for following rigorously their religious tradition, it was the best moment to learn from Alexandra the meaning of the Pakistan word, a name suggested by a student of Cambridge few years before the partition with the meaning: "the land of the spiritually clean and pure". Today, in the morning I have taken a taxi with a nice taxi driver that after asking a good while in different points of the city, has been able to leave me in the place where they fixed and decorated lorries, a wasteland with different shops and crowds of new and broken lorries in the surroundings. I have been a couple of hours strolling through the shops, making photos and exchanging smiles with the owners of lorries and artists that almost did not talk English. Afterwards I have returned to the autocaravan and later we have left to connect to Internet, where I have been looking for information on this incredible phenomenon of the decoration of lorries in Pakistan, which are transformed into real mobile works of art. It is seen, that many drivers of lorries, incapable of being married by the lack of time or insufficient money, invert all their money, love and inspiration for the vehicles. Although this explanation must not be in a complete way true, because a driver of lorry usually pays $5,000 of $3,000 to decorate his lorry, externally and internally. The real history has its roots in the time of the Mughal empire, when many craftsmen had worked painting frescoes in mosques, palaces, homes... but when the times changed, the craftsmen adapted to the new situation, first embellishing wagons pulled by horses, and in 1920 decorating the first buses of the company Kohistan Bus, starting like this the ardour for the highly adorned lorries (and some buses). These trims usually include structural changes of the lorries, as the introduction of a big front protection for head-on collision, standing out up to a meter and with the capacity to sustain different people with the lorry in progress. A cover that is raised oblique on the booth that is used to load extra load or to eventual passengers is usually also installed. But the most spectacular part, is the decoration in itself, which can be worked in wood (if the artists originate from Balochistan or Peshawar), in plastic (Rawalpindi and Islamabad), in reflecting adhesives (everywhere, but especially in Karachi) and even bones of camel (for artists original from the rural areas of Sindh). The lorries also usually have different painted parts, especially the subsequent part, with pretty paints of animals, prophets, artists of cinema, or members of the family; and also calligraphies adoring Allah, or other more personal of the type: "hopeless romantic" or "darling, accompany me to my village." * In the morning we have gone out from Rawalpundi towards Lahore, in order to cross to India next day in the morning. Little later, without knowing, an attack of Alquaeda has destroyed a luxurious hotel in the next city of Islamabad, killing more than 60 people. We have not found out about the attack even after a couple of days, but when knowing it has left us a feeling of bitterness, because we have met people that are so interesting and hospitable in a country that is already falling through the precipice of the radicalism and violence. ‹ Previous (23/07/2008) LUNA Next (2008-09-21)› ‹ Previous (2009-09-03 - India) TARA Next (2009-09-26 - Iran)› |
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