Thursday, June 18, 2009

Accidental Halva

A while ago, I received a recipe-exchange request by e-mail from my dear friend Sarah. I haven't been able to reply yet (please forgive, I will...), but this morning I accidentally invented a new Tajik breakfast fare that is too good to be missed:

ingredients:
flour (I only had buckwheat flour - let me know your results with any other type)
eggs
milkpowder (Iluka had just drunk all the real milk)
water (I was lucky that morning...)
vegetable oil
sugar

Sounds like pancake mix? That's exactly what I was trying to achieve

1. Mix together 1/2 cup flour, 1 egg, some milk powder and a random amount of water

2. Heat up some oil in a pan

3. Pour a generous scoop of mixture in the center of the frying pan

4. Realize the oil is not hot enough (damn electric stoves!) and the mixture too thick

5. Enhance pancake mix by spontaneously adding another egg, some oil and more water

6. Scrape the first (test) pancake from the bottom of the pan and discard into garbage bin

7. Brush off any suspicion that pancake failure might not be blamed on the texture of the mixture (oh, nice - say this 10 times real fast...), but on the utensils (cheap metal pan with concave center)

8. Add more oil in the pan (wait longer this time) and add another scoop of mixture

9. Let it simmer for a bit, then carefully check with a scapula around the edges and try to remember all your pancake or crêpe flipping tricks

10. Realize that the center is stuck and that with the high rim of the pan there's no way to ever flip this pancake

11. Ponder over the problem for a minute, then opt to try for scrambled pancake, having the famous Austrian 'Kaiserschmarrn' in mind.

12. Scramble and scrape away - don't let this sucker burn!

13. Maybe it's the buckwheat or the soggy mix... everything will turn into mud colored mush and stay that way

14. After another moment of reflection and determined not to let the pancake defeat you, add more oil and generous amounts of sugar

15. Disregard the appearance of your dish and proudly present to husband: "Look, I've made halva!"

Iluka: Yummm, encore?

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Over the Sheep Dung Pass

After a week of having it rough, but wonderful, we've returned to civilization safe and sound. I'll leave the day-by-day description to my diary and personal memories and rather attempt to deliver the essence of the voyage in a series of interviews:

THE PLAYERS
Mr. Mir Alom, 72, driver par excellence
Let's call him the bear. He has his 30-year old jeep under control and always carries a handful of spare screws, dirty rags and assortment of wires to fix things literally 'on the fly'. We were glad to hear that he has given up on the vodka - his trusted glove-box companion while being a gasoline truck driver for 40 years...

Best memory of the trip: Coming home to Khorog

Worst memory of the trip: Having to name every single village on the 600km-long drive!

Typical conversation between Mir Alom and Mitushoh while driving:
Mitushoh: Chiz? (What?)
Mir Alom: ---
Mitushoh (louder): In chiz? (What's this?)
Mir Alom (grunts)
Mitushoh: In chiz ast? (What is this?)
Mir Alom (grunts, looks over): huh?
Mitushoh: Kishloq... (Village...)
Mir Alom (grunts, nods): hummmh
Mitushoh (louder, leaning over): In kishloq namo chiz? (What's the name of this village?)
Mir Alom (mumbles something)
Mitushoh: Chiz?
...

What made this trip special: Not a single flat tire!

Ilukshoh, 2.5, aspiring engineer
Easily distinguishable from other dirty snotty-nosed kids by his screams when lifted up and cuddled by an enthralled Tajik woman. Other audio clues: The sound of rocks splashing into water at any nearby irrigation channel, river, lake or puddle.

Best memory of the trip: A different woman in every village

Worst memory of the trip: The day we ran out of candies

What made this trip special: All going to bed at the same time and falling asleep between Mama and Papa in the tent.

Mitushoh, 36, über-excited tour guide
Likes to confuse locals by dressing like a tourist (sun hat, camera, hiking boots), then breaking out in Wakhi slang (local dialect) on approach.

Best memory of the trip: Helping the Tajik border guards look for Afghan infiltrators from their high-tech watch-tower.
Worst memory of the trip: "Every time I took off my shoes"

What made this trip special: Pork sausage and beer.

Marigul, 34, mitigating factor
The quiet shadow, the glue that makes the pieces stick, the calm in the storm...

Best memory of the trip: A moment all to myself in Langar. Time to let thoughts fly, to romaticise about the fresh mountain air and the wind rustling in the treetops, while hearing Iluka's and Matthieu's screams of joy in the distance. Somewhere far, far away...and of course: Taking a dip in Bibi Fatima's womb!

Worst memory of the trip: "Kaka" in Bulungkul or how Iluka chose the worst moment to shit his pants... No visuals can describe the desperation felt, when standing in the middle of a dusty village with no water in sight.

What made this trip special: a hike and a picnic at 4444m as a family.

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

Ready for take off

Our high end gear have been customized so now we are off... The mountains and the unexplored are beckoning and before our jobs start for good, we need to go out and see some of the Gorno-Badakhsani countryside. Food, tent and Iluka are packed. A rickety old jeep organized. We'll be out of reach for a week or more and hopefully back with lots of pictures and fresh stories of snowy passes and pristine mountain lakes.

For those less romantic, here's our approximate itinerary (google map or earth it...): Khorog to Alichur to Khargush to Langar via Wakhan back to Khorog.

Iluka: Voir la neige! Groooooosse grooosse Berge! Go in the car! Plus, Mama promised I won't have to wash my air for a week. Let's go

Wednesday, June 3, 2009

Khorog Family

The last few days have been busy with meetings, contract negotiations and the usual little things in life that make the days pass fast and leaves you wondering whatever happened to the hours. Washing clothes in the sink. Dishes. Cooking. Stocking up on bread and tomatoes in the bazaar. E-mails. Bring Iluka to the park. Lunch. Make a phonecall. Everything takes longer here. I call it the Pamir Time Warp.

But to keep you entertained in the meantime, here's a little group photo from last weekend for you to meet others stuck in the warp...