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Weekend excursion to Garm Cheshma

As hot water, and water in general is sparse at home, we thought it would be nice to spend a night camping at the hotspring of Garm Cheshma, a 1.5 hr drive from Khorog. Adding to the international flair the Paley family was joined by Dutch couple Bastiaan and Eva (see previous entry).

In Dependence

So last night was French Fries + Vodka night at our friends Bastiaan and Eva's house. For some variety we also had spicy Chinese cabbage (from French guest chef M. Paley) and a selection of local beers (Baltika 3 and Baltika 7, indicating the alcohol %).

As the night became longer and Iluka was safely put to sleep in our host's guest bed, it became clear that there would be no transport home and we would need to walk the 30min to our house. There is no such thing as 'call-a-cab' in Khorog...

Looking at my peacefully sleeping son and my two swaying, grinning husbands, the decision was easy: Matthieu will stay behind and spend the night at Bastiaan and Eva's house and I would accompany Tanja back home, as she had to leave for Dushanbe at 4am.

All worked according to plan. Tanja and I staggered home, chatting like two overexcited chicken about relationships and rabies, and i fell into bed as soon as I got home, blissfully anticipating the morning, where I would sleep long and undisturbed by the usual platter of my child's naked feet and his demand for yoghurt and Marmeladenbrot.
And while poor Matthieu had to endure the hardest of all hangover penalties – 7am father duty – I got to dream of flat tires and angry neighbors (any freudian suggestions?) until 9am. I had planned a quiet morning taking a long overdue shower and wash my hair and then maybe some e-mailing over a cup of coffee...

At 9.30 I can stand up almost vertically...bad surprise: No water! No water means no coffee, means no shower, means more dirty hair. Oh well, remains the internet and maybe some work on the computer...bad surprise: No electricity. As I have no battery left on my laptop, I finally succumb, call up Matthieu and meet my family at the bazaar for breakfast.

What were people doing before running water and electricity? Maybe they drank less....

Home at last

We've made it to Khorog! Not by helicopter as hoped (it got cancelled again!), but by the more scenic option (or is it...?) via a crazy pot-holed, blasted-into-the mountains, 5 meters wide, non-secured sheer drop off into the Panj river, winding M-41, better known as 'The Pamir Highway'. We drove all day and night and 17 hrs later we had made it. At last!

Iluka: Indien ist das Land der Bagger und Tadjikistan ist das Land unserer Träume.

We've already settled into our apartment, which has running water except between 11am and 5pm, which is a great deal apparently, a room for us, a room for Iluka, a cozy kitchen and of course Tanja, our German housemate. Actually, we have invaded her house, but since we are sharing the rent ($400/month) all is good. Plus, she's the tourism coordinator at MSDSP, the Tajik branch of the Aga Khan Foundation (job opportunity hello!!). Actually, we get along great and Iluka starts his days asking: "Where is the Tanja?"

Oh, and one important minor detail: We have Wifi in the house, which is pretty much unheard of in Khorog. This doesn't mean we always manage to connect or even that the connection, once established, is stronger than your old 56K modem dial-up connection, but since you are reading this, here's proof it works at least once in a while.

Iluka: "I have already 2 friend here: Faharuddin is my neighbor and he can climb trees and pick unripe apricots, which taste sour but interesting. He comes by my home every day to pick me up to play downstairs with the other kids or we just hang out at home where mama gives us yoghurt and biscuits. My other friend is Alisho. He's 4 and helps me to get up onto the rocking horses on the playground.

Talking about playground: This place is an absolute paradise for children. 2 minutes walk from the house is a park, which has recently been landscaped by the Aga Khan Foundation. It's a poplar tree shaded, grassy paradise with an adventure playground, which can challenge most playgrounds in Europe for aestetics and style. There are wooden benches and rocks and boulders, narrow stone pathways, little hills to roll down from and flower beds.

Iluka: "There's even a beach and a pool where I can play and throw rocks all day long."

In the center of the park is a big 'pool', an artificial lake, which is 'sunken' into the landscape, walled in on three sides by a stonewall and with a sandy, pebbled 'beach' leading down to the water. The lake is being filled in summer with water from the river. Summer in Khorog has just started...

To sum things up: We are on 2100metres, surrounded by snowcapped mountains in a lush and fertile valley. People are laid back and friendly. There's butter, bread and beer! And if this place wasn't so damn difficult to get to, we'd stay here forever.

Some things Tajik

I feel like I owe everybody a huge multiple-day recap. Whatever happened to us? Did the KGB get us? Did we get lost in the Pamirs (unfortunately not yet).

Mostly it boils down to: To find a solid internet connection is pretty difficult in Dushanbe and not having internet at home (i.e. the appartment where we are staying) makes it even more difficult.

Otherwise I could have told you about my opportunity to take a kick-boxing lesson with the Tajik national champion, or the cop that knocked on our door in the dark whom we told to 'get lost' and he did. I could have also told you about several excellent meetings with the big bosses of Aga Khan Foundation that might get the ball rolling for some projects over here.

"But, Matthieu, my friend... what are you thinking? Of course we will put you on the helicopter."

So there we stood, yesterday bright and early, in front of our appartment waiting to be picked up for our heli ride to the mountains. When noone showed, we called the office: "Oh, actually you didn't make it on the list." Well, thanks for letting us know! In the end there were clouds and rain in Khorog and the flight got cancelled anyways. Now we are waiting for our next chance on Friday.

But I have to say to my surprise, Dushanbe is a very nice place to be 'stuck' at. It's very laid back and green with parks and fountains everywhere. People are real friendly and the food is delicious with fresh salads, soups and endless skewers of grilled meats.

Matthieu: It almost feels a bit like Munich in summer.

What he means is that there are plenty little outdoor cafes, mostly just some tables in the grass by the roadside, where you can enjoy a cold beer with your kebab and just watch the world pass by.

***

Yesterday we ventured into the countryside, just outside of Dushanbe. Rolling green hills give way to views on snowy peaks, and friendly villagers invite you for a cup of tea and a bowl of creamy homemade yoghurt... sounds like the description of a tourism brochure? Well, yes (it was meant to), but nevertheless it's the reality of being a tourist in Tajikistan. It's a beautiful place. And thanks to the Russians there are little playgrounds with rusty swings and derelict slides on almost every corner. I had no idea the capital of ex-soviet Tajikistan would be such a child-friendly place.

Tonight we'll go and see a British reggae band at the American embassy. Dushanbe is a happening place, believe me!

Dush like Dusche

Matthieu: "What's worse than McDonald's? McDonald's that just went through X-ray..."

As you can see our dinner at Sharjah airport was among the best the Middle East has to offer. I'll make a long trip short and recap our long trip to Dushanbe in images:


Today (note = 4 days ago), after having caught up with some sleep, we are already back to our 'normal' life 'on the road'. Stocked the fridge, went for a social outing to meet some of the local NGO expat community (an Italian, an Iranian, a French, an Austrian and an English girl with a puppy - much to Iluka's delight), set up meetings, got a local mobile number (+99 293 4100876) and of course: finally found a place with WiFi to upload all this.

Next step is to figure out how to get to Khorog in the Pamir Mountains, our home for the coming 2 months. Options: A flight, which due to the rainy bad weather doesn't look like it's gonna leave its bumpy runway any time soon. 16 hrs by car over treacherous terrain (exciting prospect with a 2-year old) or the old AFK (Aga Khan Foundation) helicopter (wishful thinking rather - why would they let us fly as non employees...)

PS: To better view the image on the left, right click or open in separate window

Die Grosse Reise begins

That's right - whatever happened to Tajikistan? Well, this time it's for real. We are packing up our stuff in Delhi, ready to haul ourselves and our 60kg of luggage (including camping gear, hiking boots, laptops, harddrives, baby bed...) into the big unknown.

Take off for Dubai at 4pm today. From there we'll have 5 hours (should be plenty, ummmm) to transfer to Sharjah, locate the mysterious Tajik Air office, hope that our tickets are actually booked and ready and hop on the plane to Dushanbe at 00:30am.

Pick-up and hotel in Dushanbe at this point still unconfirmed, but we are armed with phone numbers of a whole range of people (from the CEO of the Aga Khan Foundation to friends of friends of friends of people who we only know from skype and e-mails). We are hopeful.

Wish us luck, especially Iluka, who, after a bad tummy and a day of throwing up now has come down with a fever. Of course just in time for the big trip... all part of the process. (NB author does a great job in keeping calm and not letting this get to her. Maternal instinct says: nothing to worry about)

How to miss a plane in 10 minutes

For all those who've been waiting. Here's a chapter from 'Unforgettable Memories of India':

It all started well and as planned. Get up early, breakfast at 7.30am, check out, some minor problems with the credit card reader, no biggie...

The car that was supposed to bring us back to Bangalore (5-6hr drive) was loaded and ready to leave at 8am as planned. Plane at Bangalore airport scheduled for 4.30pm, so we had a good 7,5 hrs to get there on time.

1st incident (planned):
A stop at Belur Temple, about 45 min down the road. Unplanned was that we would bump into a wedding party, which was a welcome surprise, but in hindsight maybe responsible for us leaving a tad bit later than anticipated.
visual: Iluka runs after a red balloon and eats a dripping mango ice-cream.

2nd incident (unplanned)
The AC of our car wasn't working. This didn't really bother us much, but the driver seemed concerned enough to insist on organizing a replacement car. The aircon, it seemed wasn't the only problem. It was the mysterious blinking red light on the dashboard that worried the driver. "Sir, I'm not sure, sir."
visual: Paley family sits by the roadside on their suitcase waiting for new car

3rd incident (definitely unplanned, but probably our fault)
Just as we got going again, Iluka started to whine and complain about belly ache. My maternal alarm bells indicated refrozen mango ice-cream. And sure enough soon after we had the mess...
visual: Frantic search for diapers at the bottom of our bags as child had just sucessfully graduated from potty-training.

4th incident (planned, but shorter)
We knew we were slightly behind schedule, but French and Indian stomachs needed to be fed, so we stopped at the 'Shark Restaurant', a wannabe fancy roadside stall for a quick chai, some roti and dhal.
visual: Mother tried to coax screaming 2-year-old past greasy sari-clad lady into public squat toilet. Exists 3 seconds later with no success, dumps yet another mango-ice-cream diaper into makeshift cardboard bin. Happy flies.

5th incident (unplanned)
Despite diapers, Iluka insists on stopping for a pee (sorry to all non-parents for these seemingly unintereesting details). We oblige. Well done. Back in the car. Hattttatatattattat...hattatat. Engine dead. We start to feel pings of concern regarding our flight to Delhi. We don't really have time to spare anymore. The driver is on the phone and keeps on trying to start the car without success.
visual: Remote countryside. Birds chirping. Matthieu chats up a boy on a bicycle and considers continuing on a public bus.

incidents 6 - 8 (the 10-minute rule)
Eventually, through the help of mobile phones and a Toyota savvy friend of the driver, he gets the car going again.

Matthieu: "How much longer to the airport?"

Driver: "Oh, you are very lucky. It is very near. Just 10 minutes from here. I take a short-cut."
visual: Remote countryside. Birds chirping.

30 minutes later:
Matthieu: "So, where is the airport?"

Driver: "Oh, sir, we are very close. Next road on the right. Just 10 minutes."
visual: village in the countryside. Extended discussions in Kanada (local language) between driver and villagers. Several men participate, all pointing in different directions....

15 minutes later (3.40pm):
Driver: "Sir, now we enter main airport road."
visual: larger highway, thickening traffic, airport tower looming in the distance

10 minutes later (3.50):
We arrive at the airport, divide in 2 teams (Team A: load and luggage / Team B: child and camera) and sprint to the domestic departures hall.

incident 9 (the unforseen)
We get stopped by a security guard who checks our tickets and passports: "You must pay airport tax."
"Ok, sure, just tell us where, we are very late."
"Oh, you must go outside to the counter."
visual: Matthieu and Mareile push politely, yet determined through the crowd, squeeze in front of the line, sending sympathy inducing smiles, nodding applogetically, pointing at the child in their arms.

incidents 10 - 12 (the determining factors)
...and also those that never happened. Of the three railway crossings we passed on the way, none were closed! And we know sure well, that the stewardesses of Indian Airlines would not have let us on board would we have been another 10 minutes late!
visual: Matthieu and Mareile smile, sit back in their seats and look out into the clouds. Delhi, here we come!

Adieu Serai

For lack of time, here's the website of the place we will be leaving behind tomorrow. I wanted to show some pictures, video, etc. but too much to see, too much to eat, too much time to spend in our own private pool.

Hopefully I'll do a little recap on our excursions from Delhi.

So long, Namaskar and good night.

A Walk in the Park

Here's a little insight to our current 'backyard'. The Serai's very own coffee plantation.