Autumnal Outings

Hello, World. Well since the trip to Iskanderkul, I have slipped into a bit of a routine. With classes heating up and the weather cooling down (see what I did there?), there haven't been any good chances to leave the city. Thus, I've taken to exploring Dushanbe itself before the cold really gets a hold of the city.

Last weekend, American Councils took us on an excursion to two museums and two bookstores. One of the museums had a big exhibition of various artifacts that had been dug up in Tajikistan through the years. There were a lot skeletons and some really big things, so that was pretty cool. The other museum displayed a lot of Tajik ethnographic articles of clothing and household items. This was slightly less interesting early on a Saturday morning. After the museums, we checked out one of the only Farsi bookstores (because everything in Tajikistan is written in Tajiki or Russian) in Dushanbe. I got a Sesame Street book in Farsi and a book of Russian fairytales form the adjacent Tajiki bookstore. All in all, it was an academically interesting Saturday.

Since my classes don't start until noon or 1PM three days a week, my friend Emily and I have been seeing more of the sights of the city during our mornings. On Monday we went to Rudaki Park. This is a huge national park right next to the Ismaili Somoni statue in the middle of town. I had walked past the place many times, but never entered. It was quite beautiful. Compared to the rest of Tajikistan, the park was incredibly well-maintained. There were a million little fountains and a gigantic statue of the Persian poet Rudaki. Though he was blind, Rudaki's poetry was so perceptive that he is credited today with being the founder of Persian classical literature. Rudaki's park is just a lovely place to relax in the late morning.

The next place on our agenda for the week was the National Botanical Gardens. We went there Friday morning. A funny side story about the gardens: 

About two or three weeks ago, I was supposed to meet my peer tutor at the gardens. We planned to meet at the American Councils building and head over together, but he changed the plan at the last minute and told me to meet him at the gardens. I went to where I was pretty sure they were located, but I wasn't allowed to enter. I knew the admission price was one somoni. Yet when I tried to give the guard the fare, he told me I couldn't go in. He added that the military was doing exercises. This seemed strange. I called my tutor and he said he was actually at the gate looking for me. I couldn't see him anywhere. After about forty-five more minutes of confusion, we decided to just skip our session for the day. Only this past Friday, when Emily and I went to the gardens, did I realize that I had mistaken the presidential palace for the botanical gardens. So, basically, while waiting for my tutor weeks earlier, I had tried to bribe the guard of the presidential palace with a single somoni to let me enter. One somoni is equal to about twenty cents. Some high-stakes bribing indeed. On the bright side, I didn't get arrested.

Anyhow, the real botanical gardens turned out to be a beautiful place. Everything was super green and there were a bunch of large wooden pagoda-type buildings everywhere. It was a great place to study some vocab words before class.

Besides the seeing of sights, this week I also got to experience some of the less-glamorous aspects of life in the former Soviet Union's poorest state. On Wednesday evening, my friend Amanda texted me to say that her host father told her that Dushanbe was turning off all the water for the next day or so. I didn't really believe this, and when I brought it up with my own host family, they seemed just as skeptical as I was. After all, there was nothing on TV or anywhere else warning the general public that water would not be available in the near future. Nonetheless, when Thursday morning came, the water was not working. Apparently it had been shut off to clean out the pipes before winter began. The water came back on Friday. All the locals seemed completely unfazed by the whole ordeal.

This week I also learned about Tajik rodents and Tajik racism. Earlier this week, I realized there was a mouse in my room, and that it had been there for a number of days. I told my host family and they said if I ever heard it again, they would set a trap with a bug hunk of rotten meat. I wasn't too crazy about the idea of leaving rotten meat in my room for a long period of time. Luckily, I haven't heard the mouse again for the past few nights. As for the Tajik racism, it targets Africans in the city. The name locals have for Africans literally translates to 'black skins.' Black people rarely ever travel to Tajikistan. When Africans do visit Tajikistan, they are frequently stared at by locals, harassed by the police and generally given a hard time in stores and restaurants. You'd think that such an ethnically diverse country (with Russians, Central Asians, Persians, Arabs, Chinese, Koreans and Europeans) would be a little more sensitive, but that is not the case.

Yesterday was another learning experience, but this one was a lot more upbeat. Our weekly excursion was to a really old fort (Hisor Fort) just outside of Dushanbe. It was less than an hour drive up there, but it was rough because a new dust storm had rolled in from Uzbekistan and it was also just a pretty cold and rainy day. The fort though was full of pretty interesting history. We learned about the place from one of our professors, who came along on the trip. Professor Boymatov told us all about the construction and functions of the fort way back when. You are supposed to have an amazing view of Dushanbe from the top of the fort, but the weather permitted no such view on Saturday. After the fort, Boymatov took us across the street to an abandoned madrasah (religious school in Tajiki) that had been turned into another museum of Tajik culture. Both places were pretty fun for our group. We all really like Boymatov, so it was also fun to have him around. Unfortunately, we found out that he has been invited to teach Farsi at Moscow State University (the Harvard of Russia) in the spring. Despite this news and the atrocious weather, it was still a really nice day.

And now I must be off. It is dinner time. I'm getting quite accustomed to the heavy meals here. They are always very delicious and very filling. There's nothing quite like a home-cooked meal, you know? It also probably doesn't hurt that almost all their ingredients are grown at home. In my host family's huge courtyard, there are persimmons, dates, tomatoes, cucumbers, apples, grapes, raspberries, chili peppers, roses, basil, dill and a number of other spices. It's always a treat to sit down for a nice fresh meal with the family. So I'm going to go do that now. Enjoy the pictures below!

^big Buddha statue dug up somewhere in Tajikistan

^Rudaki Park

^big statue of Rudaki

^The People's Palace (no one is allowed in)

^National Botanical Gardens

^Hisor Fort

^with Prof. Boymatov

^forgot to smile; too much rain and dust in the eyes

^abandoned madrasah/ current culture museum

Iskanderkul

This past weekend was unique, to say the least. Some friends and I decided to take a trip north to Iskanderkul. As the trip was not sponsored by American Councils, my friend Chris took on the responsibility of planning out the logistics. He found us a driver and a tourist company to rent us tents, both of which were very reasonably priced. The best laid plans, however, often go awry.. 

So the plan was to meet at 7AM on Saturday morning and to get to Iskanderkul in the early afternoon. Everyone was pretty excited to go. Since Wednesday morning, Dushanbe had fallen victim to a massive dust storm that blew in from Afghanistan. It made the city look foggy all day, and made breathing outdoors a bit more hazardous than usual. Needless to say, when we pulled out of Dushanbe on Saturday morning, everyone was relieved to know we would be camping by a crystal clear lake in the mountains for the weekend. 

Our RD told us the drive to Iskanderkul is about 5 hours. We have been noticing, though, that American Councils often likes to lower our expectations as often as possible. The drive up was a great example of this. We made it to Iskanderkul in 2.5 hours and encountered zero problems along the way. The only excitement came when we drove through a local landmark known as the 'Tunnel of Death.' The tunnel is notorious for how poorly it was made. An Iranian company built it years ago and did a terrible job. The Tunnel of Death is about five miles long. Water from the mountain rivers leak through the roof and just form massive puddles in the road. The road itself has more potholes than smooth pavement. To top it all off, the tunnel has no emergency exits or vents to remove the smog. So if you get stuck in there, you are in deep trouble. The tunnel was straight out of a post-apocalyptic horror film. It was so terrifying that I couldn't stop laughing. Our driver barely seemed to notice.

Our driver's name was Zafar. He also went with us to the Pamirs and we got along with him quite well. We had to stop a few times along the way for him to exchange pleasantries with the locals, who were only described to us as his 'cousins.' Zafar seemed to know everyone in Tajikistan. This became a huge help once we realized that the tourist company could no longer provide us with tents. Unconcerned, Zafar somehow managed to use his connections to get us one of the nicest cabins in all of Iskanderkul, even though the tourist season had ended one week earlier. The cabin was right on the lake and was only $12 per person. The amazing Zafar even wrangled us up some veggies and vodka for dinner. It was a great time.

During the day we explored the area. We found a precarious viewing platform that looked out onto a pretty cool waterfall. After lunch, we went to another nearby lake called Snake Lake. Unlike Iskanderkul, Snake Lake was not over-polluted with mercury in the Soviet days, so Chris and Amanda decided to go for a swim. The water was apparently colder than death and they got out after about ten seconds. The area surrounding Iskanderkul was just beautiful. It was a lot of fun to explore. 

Nighttime on the lake was freezing and very windy. A bonfire was not possible.This meant we had to find some fun indoors. We all bonded over various card games and foreign alcohols. On Sunday morning, everyone slept in, ate a late breakfast and cleaned up the cabin. We left for Dushanbe around 10AM and were hoping to get back to the city by noon. But this was not to be so.

After driving for about a half hour, we noticed a large group of people looking over the wall of a cliff. We decided to pull over and check out the scene. At the bottom of the hill, there was a large party being held. Of course, Zafar knew someone in the crowd of people. The man insisted that we all come down to the party. It turned out to be a circumcision party (a common Tajik affair) for two little boys. The man that recognized Zafar was the father of one of the lucky lads.

The party was wild. I found out from talking to the one father (I forget his name, but let's call him Umid for convenience sake) that the circumcisions had occurred at 6AM and everyone had been drinking since then. At least half of the men there were plastered and it wasn't even 11AM. They cleared off a table for us and brought fresh Osh, veggies, naan, tea and vodka. It was astonishing how the people made us feel so welcome, but had never before met any of us. All they knew was that we were friends of Zafar and that was enough. We ate, drank and danced. It was a hoot. Umid, after speaking with me for five or ten minutes, asked if I was from Iran. Never have I received a higher compliment. He was probably a little drunk, but I appreciated Umid's misconception nonetheless.

After we were all well-acquainted and in high spirits, Chris told Umid that I play the daf (a big, round, flat Persian tambourine without the jingles) really well. This was an inside joke from earlier in our trip, but the father didn't pick up on it. He brought me over to the man who was playing the daf at the party. I kept insisting that I didn't know how to play. Eventually they all understood. But when the music stopped, they handed me the microphone and the place went silent. They wanted me to give a toast. I had never given a toast before, nor had I ever attended a circumcision party. So I was way out of my element. What does one toast to at a circumcision party? I ended up just thanking them for the hospitality and wishing them all well. I also alluded to how much we all love Tajikistan and how much we especially loved that party. The first part of the toast was in Persian and then they wanted to hear some English as well so they made me switch. All ~150 pairs of eyes at the party were on me. I was super nervous. When I finished, everyone clapped enthusiastically, so that was comforting. It was not my most eloquent moment, but it was certainly a unique experience.

We left after about an hour and a half. The drive home was pretty uneventful, including the trek back through the Tunnel of Death. I think we all had a bunch of homework, so the rest of the evening in Dushanbe was pretty quiet. Everyone agreed that it was an amazing weekend, though. I have had a lot of outrageously unique experiences in Tajikistan so far, but this weekend took the cake. I experienced a massive dust storm, survived the Tunnel of Death, stayed at one of the most beautiful lakes in Tajikistan, got a sweet upgrade of sleeping accommodations, and got to toast two young Tajik boys' recent circumcisions. I will remember this weekend for a very long time.

Oh, also, as of ten days ago, this is the longest I've ever been out of the US. 

More pictures below.

^Iskanderkul - view from our cabin

^viewing platform for the waterfall 

 ^back of our cabin

^dinner time 

^tajiks tripping over themselves to feed us

^chris with a hired dancer for the party 

^zafar is in the blue jacket; umid has the sweet tajik hat on 

^daf player and singers 

^speeching 

^amanda dancing with a tajik man

^umid and the crew as we were leaving

Post-Pamirs Post

     So last week I went to the Pamirs. It was crazy. I'm sure I'll forget to write about a lot of the things that happened, but that's only because the week was so chock full of excitement. I'm sorry this post is so long, but here is my best shot at recounting this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity:

     Okay, we met last Saturday outside of the American Councils building at 6AM. Anyone that knows me well, knows that I am not really a morning person. So getting to the meeting place on time required a record-breaking amount of motivation on my part. My host family said they would have eggs ready for me at 5:30AM, but they forgot to set their alarm. There were no 5:30AM eggs. I couldn't really fault them for that though, as it would have been incredibly hypocritical of me. 

     Anyhow, I somehow managed to meet everyone on time and shortly thereafter we set out for the Roof of the World. The whole week I shared a car with my two closest friends on the trip (Chris and Amanda), the in-country program director (Khurshed) and our Pamiri driver (Qoli-Nazar). Even though our driver was born and raised in Tajikistan, he had his own unique accent. I was very deep, slow, soft and almost reminiscent of an Italian mobster. It was strange, but made the long road trip that much more enjoyable.

     The first day in the car may have been the worst. Including stops for food and pictures, the whole drive ended up taking fourteen hours. We drove from Dushanbe to the far less bustling village of Qalai-Khumb. The village is located right inside the border of Badakhshan, which is the province that houses the Pamirs. On the way to Qalai-Khumb, we met up with the Panj River. The Panj runs along Tajikistan's southern border with Afghanistan. We drove along this border for the about 4 or 5 days. At one point in the late afternoon of the first day, we had to pull over for four hours because some Iranian company was blowing the side of a Tajik mountain to build a tunnel for everyone's 'convenience.' It was difficult to occupy our time while we waited, because the area surrounding us was an old mine field that still hadn't been cleared. We quickly learned that it was best to be prepared for anything in Badakhshan. By the time we got to Qalai-Khumb that first night, it was dark. After sitting in the car for so long, Qalai-Khumb's lack of beauty was quite a disappointment. It was the only town I did not instantly love upon arrival.

     The next day we got up early and drove to Khorugh, the capital of Badakhshan. Khorugh was great. Everyone really loved it. The place was like a much more quaint version of Dushanbe. The city is actually known for it's relatively high crime and drug problems, but luckily we avoided those. There is this huge new public park in Khorugh that sits right on a river and is just beautiful. We ate dinner, and lunch the next day, in that park. On Day Three, we spent the day in 'downtown' Khorugh. We toured the local bazaar, took photos with some old Soviet statues and checked out the traditional Pamiri craft stores. It was a fun day soaked in culture. 

     That afternoon we took a quick four hour drive over to a much smaller town called Ishkoshim. The town was calm and quiet, but it also didn't have too much to offer foreigners. Before dinner was served at the guesthouse, we walked around town. At some point, we decided to walk down to the Panj and see how close we could get to Afghanistan. This was a bad idea. When we were about a hundred feet away, some kids informed us that if we went down to the river, the Tajik border patrol would probably shoot us. So we turned around. The guesthouse in Ishkoshim was my favorite one I think. Even though it was in the middle of nowhere, it still had a TV, a VHS player, a western toilet, toilet paper, hot showers and very comfortable beds. Compared to some of our other guesthouses, the one in Ishkoshim bordered on ritzy.

     The thing that really blew my mind was the blatant inequality that existed just across the border in Afghanistan. All through the Pamirs and along the Panj there are telephone lines and electric wires on the Tajik side. In extreme northern Afghanistan, however, there is no electricity. Those people are legitimately cut off from the rest of their country. Talk about living off the grid. I have no idea how anyone survives over there. In the evenings, when the sun went down and the temperature plummeted, I was very grateful to be on the side of the border that at least had electricity. No wonder the Tajik border patrol is so severe. There is an obvious impetus for Afghans to try to make their way across the Panj. As strange as it may seem to say, a much better life awaits Afghan families if they can cross the northern border. 

     On a less serious note, the food on the trip was awesome! We got to try a bunch of local Badakhshani dishes, along with traditional Tajik meals. Each one was piping hot and very filling. I suppose when there's nothing else to do all day, your meals better be good. Though American Councils paid each of the guesthouses to let us stay there, the hospitality seemed over the top. The people were so welcoming. Honestly, I think they were all just excited to see some new faces. We really got a good impression of Tajik generosity though. On the roads there were numerous smiling Tajiks selling every kind of produce from pomegranates to strings of dried figs. We stopped for a lot of these people. Pomegranates and figs are just so much better in Persia.

     The morning of the fourth day brought a whole new set of adventures. Our destination was the tiny town of Langar, which was only a few hours down the road. But there were quite a few planned stops along the way. First, we made our way to an abandoned fort and a small Pamiri 'museum.' Both were academically fascinating. We learned about Pamiri clothes, instruments, and languages (there are many Pamiri languages and none are closely related to Tajiki). Later we drove up to about 11,000 feet to check out some natural hot springs. I had never seen hot springs like this before and they did not disappoint. The water was just like a hot tub. I climbed into a little cave I found and my feet couldn't touch the bottom. The water was almost scalding hot as you went deeper and deeper. It was a really cool stop. Later, just outside of Langar, we got the best view of Pakistan that we would get for the whole trip. The scenery was honestly breathtaking. After taking a bunch of pictures with the Tajik Pamirs, the Afghan Hindu Kush and the Pakistani Himalayas all in one, we rolled into Langar. I don't think anyone could stop smiling after that view.

     Langar is an insanely small town. It has about 15-20 families living there, but our guesthouse was shockingly well equipped for travelers. It had heat and a western toilet. Both were welcomed surprises. In Langar there is almost zero light pollution, so the night sky is beyond words. We could see many different layers of stars and numerous constellations. The milky way was not just visible, it was the main attraction. When you look at the sky in Langar, everything is so clear that you are almost guaranteed to see a handful of shooting stars after just ten minutes. It was crazy to think how isolated we were. So few people have ever been to the places we went. We kept thinking about where we were on a map and laughing at how out of the way it was. I think Ishkoshim had the best guesthouse, but Langar was by far the coolest town.

     On Day 5 we drove up through the Pamir Plateau. This place was even more isolated than Langar, by which I mean we saw nothing but rocks and water for hours at a time. It was a very bad place to get a flat tire. Nonetheless we got a flat tire. Our very serious, lone-wolf, he-man driver threw on the spare tire in about ten minutes and we continued over the plateau. Day 5 had a large range of livestock for us all to see. We saw countless yaks and took countless pictures with those yaks throughout the day. I feel quite proud to say that I can now instantly tell the difference between a yak and cow (longer torsos, longer hair, wider tails, etc). 

     The real treat though came in the middle of the day when we spotted two wild Bactrian camels right over the Afghan border. There are many Bactrian camels left in the world, but only about 800 live in the wild. Those that do live in the wild, live exclusively in Mongolia. Or so they say. The two we saw were definitely not domesticated. It was a fantastic stroke of luck that we got to see them. We all ran out of the cars and down to the border. Where we were was far too remote to have border patrol, so we went right up to the river and took a bunch of pictures. I also managed to throw a stone that hit the bank of the river in Afghanistan. So I can say I was literally a stone's throw away from Afghanistan. Pretty neat. The rest of the day was pretty fun. We eventually got up to 14,000 feet when we drove through 'Bunny Pass' (technically translated as 'Rabbit Pass') for about 6 hours. We stopped by a random Kyrgyz village and then made our way back to Khorugh for the evening. We filled up on some unexpectedly good Indian food and went to bed exhausted, but satisfied.

     Day 6 was just a repeat of Day 2. Nothing new or extraordinarily exciting occurred. Everyone was getting pretty antsy in the cars. Once again, Qalai-Khumb failed to capture my heart. Day 7 was the last day. We decided to take a northern route back to Dushanbe that would save time, but take us right through the Rasht Valley. If anyone knows anything about Tajikistan's Rasht Valley, they know it is not exactly the nicest place in the world. A decade ago, during the Tajik Civil War, the Rasht Valley was the site of the most violent outbursts. Today, many in the Rasht Valley are known Taliban sympathizers. The State Department just lifted the travel ban on the area a few months ago. And the roads through Rasht had just been reopened two weeks prior. So it was a pretty unique opportunity to get to drive through the mountains there. The valley was full of dramatic scenery and vast rolling hills. It was quite a treat. 

     We got back in to Dushanbe in the early afternoon utterly drained of all energy. Not that we had really over-exerted ourselves, but the long drives were rough. Apparently the roads in Tajikistan ceased to be paved after about three hours in any direction. So for the whole week we were just driving over patted-down rocky paths. Normally we drove on the side of very steep mountains and almost invariably the roads did not have guardrails. Needless to say, the drive got a little dicey at times. I was very pleased that we had a professional behind the wheel. 

     Okay I know this post has been really long, and honestly I am grateful for anyone that has made it this far. I have only two more morsels left to recant and then this will all be over:

1. On Day 2, we stopped in some small town because the drivers wanted to speak with a friend who was known to sell uncut rubies from the mountains. This is extremely illegal in Tajikistan, but, hey, when in Badakhshan.. No one ended up buying anything though, because the stubborn man selling the jewels was asking for ridiculous prices.

2. There is government propaganda everywhere in Tajikistan. Even in the 20-family town of Langar, there were huge pictures of President Rahmon, complete with all the ridiculous quotes and state mottoes. Leading up to every town, there was a line of boulders with words like 'unity,' 'brotherhood,' and 'celebrate 20 years of independence.' It was a little excessive.

Thank you for finishing this post. I promise no other post will ever be this long. Below are a few pictures. Enjoy!

^ precipitous roads

^ Panj River

^ my friends Maggie and I in Pamiri clothes with Pamiri instruments

^ Bactrian camels!

^ yak

^ Kyrgyz nomads over the Afghan border, headed towards China

^ just a stone's throw from Afghanistan

^ excessive nothingness up at 14,000 feet

^ abandoned fort at 11,000 feet

^ so many herds in the roads

^ Tajikistan, Afghanistan, Pakistan

^ picking cotton on the side of the road