After a bit of a comedy-of-errors start to the day -- the guy who stamps visas in the Afghan consulate was sick so the PE staff had to send someone out to find him, then it turned out Oistamo's visa had expired four days ago so she couldn't cross -- Jamshed from PE and I crossed the Tem bridge on foot around 11 AM today. A guy in a beat-up but resilient and surprisingly smooth Hi-Ace picked us up on the Afghan side and we were on our way to visit the three "villages" (really two villages and one loosely unified area with a bunch of sub-villages in it) that PE connected to the grid under the previous USAID project.
First we stopped in Sarchashma, which is the district center and which you can see from the Serena in Khorog, to register with the police and to get our walking-around papers, which consisted of the Shugnan District governor's business card. We also got some bread and this weird cream stuff that comes in a juice box but that you can spread -- it's good, I feel like I've seen it in Latin America, too -- for lunch in lieu of real food. I would not eat the real food over there unless my life depended on it. No sirree.
We bounced up the road to see transformers and go in a couple of people's houses in Tizhmoy and Pidrud villages, to the north. Jamshed's English isn't great, but it's good enough and he was patient and game and, like everyone else at PE, is pretty good-natured. I took lots of pictures, both of the stuff I was there to see (transformers, meters, toaster ovens, TVs, light bulbs, people using those things) and of the landscape. It was a spectacular day and the light up here when the sun's out is like the light in late evening at home on a very sunny day when everything looks a bit polarized. But all day.
Then we drove down to Viyod by way of Sarchashma, where we picked up the elected leader of Viyod and a local mullah who lives there. More transformers and lines, more pictures, including a group shot of me with the various men who had attached themselves to the trip -- a guy from DABS, the Afghan utility and assorted others -- and then the mullah invited us up into the chaikhona for some tea and snacks, which had been laid out for us. It was getting late but we went up, of course. We really did drink and run, though, because Jamshed was worried about the border closing before we could cross back. Not for lack of trying to keep us on the part of our hosts.
On our way back up to the car we went to one other house, and as we were leaving it the mullah stopped and told Jamshed he wanted to make a prayer in honor of our visit. Which he then did, thanking god and the Aga Khan and Pamir Energy and me and asking that I and my children be blessed by god, and then chanting for quite a long time in (at least partially) Arabic. I asked Jamshed to thank him for his generosity and hospitality as my host and that I hope god also blesses him and his family.
As we were piling back into the car the village head, whose name is Bakhtojomol, made a last-ditch effort to Jamshed to get us to stay and eat. Apparently they were going to slaughter a chicken and I guess we'd have spent the night. Jamshed handled it like a pro, though, explaining that I'm sick (true although not THAT sick) and that I have to leave for Dushanbe tomorrow (also true) while avoiding pissing anyone off that I could tell.
We made it across the bridge with less than 10 minutes to spare.
Back at the office Oistamo had gotten some food from the Indian place in town and we partook right then and there. I was hungry. Jamshed took his leave and Oistamo and Mehrafruz and I sat talking for a while longer. We finally left around 7:45.
Now it's 9:30 and I'm going to call it a night pretty soon. Fingers crossed extremely hard for good weather tomorrow so the heli can fly. If it doesn't I'm going to have to drive and I'm not relishing that prospect. Hope outside my control.
First we stopped in Sarchashma, which is the district center and which you can see from the Serena in Khorog, to register with the police and to get our walking-around papers, which consisted of the Shugnan District governor's business card. We also got some bread and this weird cream stuff that comes in a juice box but that you can spread -- it's good, I feel like I've seen it in Latin America, too -- for lunch in lieu of real food. I would not eat the real food over there unless my life depended on it. No sirree.
We bounced up the road to see transformers and go in a couple of people's houses in Tizhmoy and Pidrud villages, to the north. Jamshed's English isn't great, but it's good enough and he was patient and game and, like everyone else at PE, is pretty good-natured. I took lots of pictures, both of the stuff I was there to see (transformers, meters, toaster ovens, TVs, light bulbs, people using those things) and of the landscape. It was a spectacular day and the light up here when the sun's out is like the light in late evening at home on a very sunny day when everything looks a bit polarized. But all day.
Then we drove down to Viyod by way of Sarchashma, where we picked up the elected leader of Viyod and a local mullah who lives there. More transformers and lines, more pictures, including a group shot of me with the various men who had attached themselves to the trip -- a guy from DABS, the Afghan utility and assorted others -- and then the mullah invited us up into the chaikhona for some tea and snacks, which had been laid out for us. It was getting late but we went up, of course. We really did drink and run, though, because Jamshed was worried about the border closing before we could cross back. Not for lack of trying to keep us on the part of our hosts.
On our way back up to the car we went to one other house, and as we were leaving it the mullah stopped and told Jamshed he wanted to make a prayer in honor of our visit. Which he then did, thanking god and the Aga Khan and Pamir Energy and me and asking that I and my children be blessed by god, and then chanting for quite a long time in (at least partially) Arabic. I asked Jamshed to thank him for his generosity and hospitality as my host and that I hope god also blesses him and his family.
As we were piling back into the car the village head, whose name is Bakhtojomol, made a last-ditch effort to Jamshed to get us to stay and eat. Apparently they were going to slaughter a chicken and I guess we'd have spent the night. Jamshed handled it like a pro, though, explaining that I'm sick (true although not THAT sick) and that I have to leave for Dushanbe tomorrow (also true) while avoiding pissing anyone off that I could tell.
We made it across the bridge with less than 10 minutes to spare.
Back at the office Oistamo had gotten some food from the Indian place in town and we partook right then and there. I was hungry. Jamshed took his leave and Oistamo and Mehrafruz and I sat talking for a while longer. We finally left around 7:45.
Now it's 9:30 and I'm going to call it a night pretty soon. Fingers crossed extremely hard for good weather tomorrow so the heli can fly. If it doesn't I'm going to have to drive and I'm not relishing that prospect. Hope outside my control.
No comments:
Post a Comment