I ask Jyghal how he gets his information ? "From Russia. Not much going on with the local news. Russia-Ukraine." Jyghal informs that Russian news can be trusted; he is less convinced by the BBC : "It is only America."
Meanwhile, back at home, Sonnet and Stephanie drive Madeleine to Manchester for her last year of university.
Kyrgyzstan faired relatively well, of Central Asia's 15 countries, following the Soviet collapse - there was no civil war, for instance (Jryghal informs that the Mujahideen maintained control of Tajik districts until 2005 despite the elections).
From 1991, factories and trade stopped ("like Afghanistan when the Americans left, 24 hours only") and there was virtually no economy. What did people do? "Drinking, sleeping and fucking" for two years. Fair enough. The first election in Kyrgyzstan was in 1992 bringing stability by 1995.
Kyrgyzstan survived this period due to its abundance of water - more than any other Central Asian country - and gold, which it has in abundance. Its commercial borders remained open and its ties to Russia strong - the US made some efforts in Central Asia post the Soviet collapse, including sponsoring Kyrgyzstan's acceptance into the WTO (1999) but following 9/11 the Americans took a greater interest in the region, and opened the (military) Transit Center at Manis (Kyrgyzstan) in December 2001, to Russia and China's horror. Under pressure, Kyrgyzstan closed the base in 2006.
The US relations have been difficult here at best, Russia is the center of gravity, yet there is an American embassy in Bishkeck. To me, it seems China is the real worry. Next door, China has lent Tajikistan tons of development money, including to pave the Pamir Highway, and eventually it will absorb the mineral-laden territory in return. Indeed it is happening already as 60% of mined gold in the Fan mountains going to China.
"800 years ago, this was Genghis Kahn territory. In 1218 a governor in Otrar (now Kazakhstan) received a Mongolian delegation to initiate trade relations. Already aware of the menacing threat that was sweeping the continent, the Otrarian governor had the lead delegate assassinated. Kahn had been plotting to expand his empire up until this point, and this was all he needed to launch a full scale attack. In 1219, Kahn readied an army of 200,000 men to ride west from his stronghold in Altay. In the space of one year, Kahn had sacked Kojan and Otrar (Kahn watching as the Otrarian governor had molten silver pour in his eyes as revenge).
Mongolian tribes continued to sweep across Central Asia and destroy its major cities. The siege continued until Kahn's death in 1227 and, eventually, the Mongolian empire would go on to become the biggest continuous land empire in human history. Settled civilisation in Central Asia only began to recover 600 years later following Russian expansion in the 19th century."
The valley btw is about 2,000m above sea level which means we are looking at mountains that peak three miles above us.
Jyrgal speaks many languages including his native Kyrgyi, english, farsi, Russian, Tajiki and Pariri. He spent six months in the UK on a seasonal visa working at a factory, allowing him to visit London, Canterbury and Scotland including Glasgow and Edinburgh (Eitan compares notes).
Really, though Jyrghal is pro-Russian whom, he informs, still controls the region and enjoys frictionless trade in goods, services and people. He has been to Moscow ("crazy, crazy place, too. many people") and studied at a Russian school in Osh where there are many; Russian is the second language here. NB Kyrgyzstan is 4,500km from Russia, traversing enormous Kazakhstan.
The original Soviet-built Pamir highway was from Osh to Khorog or 800km (of the 1,800 total distance) which we travel now.
Do people climb these mountains? Yes, many die each year (on Lenin peak).
The border guard informs that Americans cross the border the most followed by the French and the Italians. Tajiks or Kyrgs ? Not allowed either direction. It costs 500 somones bribe (about 15 dollars) to enter Kyrgyzstan.
Passing the guard, we enter a neutral territory between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan for 35km accompanied by a military soldier to ensure our security. The border opened only four weeks ago to tourism otherwise the free flow of people is blocked. Before Covid, "many people died" because of fighting over territory until the Kyrgyzstan government shut the line. NB there are three crossings between Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan and one crossing with China.
Our new guide, Jyrghal, informs that Tajikistan has been hurt more than the Kyrgyzstan during the the border shut-down given the country is poorer, has less trading access to Russia and Central Asia (natural commerce partners Afghanistan and China are difficult) and is run by President Rahmon, a dictator ("one-thousand percent").
We are still on the Pamir hw (M41) which ends in Osh yet the geography immediately changes and here we are on a dirt road again, in the neutral territory, down and down in a red valley.
We drop off our protector, have our bags thoroughly searched for Afghani drugs, meet a motorcyclist stranded for one week since now papers, then exit - Jyrghal: "now I can welcome you to Kyrgyzstan."
We descend to the Karakul lake (4,300m), the highest in Central Asia, where Eitan and I both swim (bracing and clean). It is salt water and nothing lives here, unlike the pike found in the Yashikul late and Bulunkul lake which we passed earlier (note: 'kul' means lake). The small nearby village of 200 population where we have tea survives on tourists attracted to the beauty of this location.
As with all places we have travelled so far there are electrical sockets (European prong) to charge our iPhones and power the lights; sometimes a television or computer screen is in the guest or dining room but I do not imagine they work. Wifi another matter - mainly touch-and-go.
We blast Steely Dan's "Reeling In The Years" across the expansiveness and everything is right.
Sonnet, Katie and I visited Kashgar in 1997, before the Chinese systematic genocide of the Uyghur Muslims via re-education camps and torture from 2014. Kashgar, along with its thousands of years history, was once a place where one could barter for a camel, Kalashnikov, or opium (knowing the door markings). I recall 5-gallon drums of fresh chicken guts (very clean) used for cooking, or the row of men being shaved by the barber for prayer - long blade, of course. Always carpets to be haggled over chi in the privacy of the trader's home. Such friendly people.
China's brutality makes no sense - the Uyghurs are no threat to China or its great cities, located thousands of miles East and, anyway, China's western border is protected by the impassable Hindu Kush, Tian Shans and Karakoram ranges. It is strictly an assimilation of a peaceful Muslim people because Beijing can do so, overlooked or unseen outside a few small protests from us, the West.
There is a market - Sundays are busiest - and we examine local items and Western scrapings - Coke and Fanta (of course), Colgate toothpaste, dish washing liquid .. bottled water for travellers is a must and clean water is an urgency (in 2002 President Ramon initiated the global Year of Clean Water, adopted by the UN).
Wherever we pass on the highway we see children dressed in clean pressed school clothes, the boys with knotted ties and the girls with tight hair braids - sometimes they are walking many kilometres from the next village, often very young eg under ten years. I am informed that the norm is for local schooling until Year 4 then to a larger town/ relatives to Year 11. Some will then go to Dushambe for university. Unsurprisingly the more school, the less likely to return home. By uni most are interested in some travel, like Macfhadir, and Moscow is a big draw.
Eitan makes a few fast friends in a scratch game of football. Shouts of Messi! and Ronaldo! can be heard by the ten or so boys as they shoot on goal and trash-talk each other.
We stay at a guesthouse run by the family matriarch Rahima, the former (stern) local english teacher for ages 4-11 (her English to be desired). Rahima's grandchildren run about spreading joy. They are dirty and loved.
He knows many drivers along the way, honking or waving or stopping to chat about conditions ahead or whatever. At night he reconnects with his friends and they lie on their bed mats and pass the night away talking and drinking chi.
Along with the lonely beauty of the place is the temperature. While today it is a very pleasant 25C, in January the needle will drop to -60C, the coldest point in Central Asia (along with weather meters and some solar panels there is a large satellite dish). For a nearby comparison of extremes, Dushambe will hit 50C in the summertime.
The Russians say, "you have not seen the Pamir Mountains until you have been to the Wakhan Corridor." People here are mainly from Pakistan and Afghanistan, and have their own dialect (Makhfdir informs). They are known for their striking blue eyes and blond hair. Similar to the unseen brown bear or snow leopard, which roam these mountains, they stay away from us, having no interest in such visitors to their home.
Aziz's local music is a constant in the background. We negotiate for Eitan's play-list and try to explain Bob Dylan's "Like A Rolling Stone" and "Tom Thumb's Blues"; he and Makhfidr are less convinced by bands Deer Hunger, LCD Sound System and the Sufian Stevens.
The shopkeeper, below, is well stocked including Budweiser, something not seen since London. The local beer, Sim Sim, is 4.7% (reported) alcohol content and sold only in 2L plastic bottles for 30 somone - less than a dollar. It is very good when cold and safe to drink, while the tap water is advised not.
Hindu Kush means "killer of Hindus."
On the 24km hike we pick up a healthy dog - I name him Mushka - who follows us to the lake rewarded by salami, salty sardines and hard bread. Mushka ditches us for the next hikers and all in a days work for his meal, I am sure.
At the lake I meet a solo Serbian and ask him about the Balkans. He is 42 and informs of being in grade school as Yugoslavia dissolved in 1995 and bodies lay in the street and man-of-wars flew over-head. Milosovik ? who disregarded NATO and, as a result, Serbia was bombed by NATO to prevent more genocide in 2002 - "He was a pawn in the operation and manipulated (by Serbia, I think). All countries were doing bad things in the war". NB Croatia is Catholic, Serbia Orthodox, Bosnia Muslim and the Balkans' seven country lines imposted upon them post Second World War creating a tinder box for conflict, which ignited following the collapse of the Soviet Union.
It is not lost on me that this crew is equally interesting to Eitan, looking forward 10 years, as me, seeing a younger generation in thought and action.
The Soviet cars on the highway, almost always white, are sometimes moving or left on the side of the road. Many of these vehicles, and certainly the earlier Ladas, date to the 60s and 70s, and were the workhorses of the era. They are more romantic than the orange Hyundai trucks that are now here to take from the mountains (and sometimes make our passing tenuous).
I have seen the Russian car roofs stacked a story high with wheat since the harvesting season has begun.
The fortress was built in the 3rd century to protect Ishkashim during the Arabic period. This area connects Afghanistan to India, a key trading route for clothes, spices and knowledge on the ancient Silk Route.
The fortress stones are from Afghanistan, transported across the Panj River. A similar fortress, from the same period and with the same name, is in Afghanistan 1,000km from here. The rulers of both fortresses were brothers - Zangibor was their family name - and they provided protection for the price of crossing.
At the base of the fortress we engage a vendor who sells beads, cloth and local jewellery. We bartar a few things and Eitan walks away with an Afghani hat called a 'pakol'.
We meet a young hostess at a hot-springs - the mineral water is 50C after being cooled to this temperature by mixing with another mountain stream. I receive her permission for a picture - difficult to take photographs of women, I have found.
We race the sunset's elongating shadows as the road winds its way to the Wakhan Corridor. We see the snow capped Hindu Kush for the first time, the massif towering overhead, in the far distance.
Eitan meets four local men one playing guitar. He is invited to join and plays a blues song for them. "They found it a bit weird", he says.
Practicing Shia pray every day, seven-days a week, at 4am and 6pm, filling the mosque with men and women who pray together (unlike Sunni). Eitan and I would be hard pressed in service at this early hour though not far off from the swimming practice of my youth.
Unlike Sunni, who pray five times a day, there is no call to prayer, which is so haunting in Sunni Muslim cities.
Shia: "the Muslims of the branch of Islam comprising sects believing in Ali and the Imams as the only rightful successors of Mohammad and in the concealment and messianic return of the last recognised Imam."
Eitan and I breakfast at the hostel on a quiet Sunday morning. We awake stunned, per normal, and the coffee, everywhere, is Nescafe and sometimes the water is hot - but, in all fairness dear, it does the trick.
On the TV screen behind me is a kick boxing fight and Eitan and I discuss the uncivilised nature of this violent sport - even boxing aims at some gentlemanly nature with gloves, if not worn in Tajikistan. Adding to the noise is the Tajik music which pumps beats around the room - to me, it sounds of of chanting prayer mixed to synthesizer rhythms - the patrons pay neither TV nor sound any notice. Last night a group of Russians smoked and drank at the bar and it is hard to imagine they are welcome here, now, but they are served and we do not join them.
Macfadir enjoys music but has never heard of The Beatles. Or The Rolling Stones. I ask, who then ? And her Western canon is complete with Madonna. What songs? "Frozen", which happens to be from my favourite Madonna album "Ray Of Light".
Aziz points out his house as we drive through Khorog and I tell him he is a rich man. He replies, "I am a rich man because I have three daughters." (translated by Macfadir)
Today is Independence Day in Tajikistan, dating from 1991 following the collapse of the Soviet empire. In Dushambe there are fireworks and military parades; in Khorog, where we are, there is nothing to report, just another day of living.
After the collapse of the USSR, and from May 1992 until 1997, the Tajik Civil War devastated the country as regional groups rose up against the elected President, Ramon Nabiyev, who remains President today and whose image is posted everywhere we travel. Against him, the rebels included liberal democrat reformers and Islamasists, supported by the Russian military. An estimated 60,000 to 150,000 people were killed with 20% of the population displaced - there was indiscriminate killing mainly in the southern region, our route this pas week - it is hard to imagine given how freely people here give their hospitality.
Today we drive to Geisev Valley and cross the Bhartan river on a rickety footbridge, fast-flowing water feet beneath us. From here we trek to Bhagoo village, about 8km, to an upper series of clear lakes in a valley of towering mountains. We stay the night in Geisev, a small village of simple houses, gnarled trees and fruit groves - it is the season and appleas and pears fall from the branches; blankets of orange apricots sun-dry on the stones. Eitan and I count seconds on each on in the 4C river which we swim.
I learn that a Pamir house is built as a family effort instead of, say, buying off a neighbour. It takes about one year to collect all the materials needed for construction. As wood is rare here and the centrepriece of the house is wooden pillars, family planning demands long-term tree-planting.
Furniture is simple and the home protected with warm carpets and wools on the floor and walls.
Our room has a hole in the ceiling for a make-shift chimney.
