Adventures with Julia

October 9, 2019

Our 26th anniversary.  Today will probably be our longest anniversary ever, since we will get back the 12 hours we lost on the clock and experience a 36 hour October 9th.  Sure did not plan ahead for the occasion.  A hug and a kiss and we are on our way….home.

As I review the 46 days just passed, I think about all the scenery we experienced, especially the snow-capped mountains of Tibet and Pakistan and the green forests and meadows in Bandhavgarh Park; the narrow, cliff hanging roads in the north and the noisy, overcrowded roads in the cities;  the temples, forts, monasteries and palaces everywhere, from ancient and falling apart, to  solid gold plated.  Mostly, I think of the people we met along the way.  All were friendly, colorful and interesting and all had a story to tell us.  Some, especially the Pakistanis, were so warm-hearted and shared so much of themselves that we have come to care for and about them and wonder how they are carrying on in their lives.  We correspond with some of them, especially our Pakistan and Indian guides, Shifa and Ashim.  Sadly, we seem unable to communicate with our Uygher guide, whose story we felt so deeply and whose life may be at risk.  As we return home to our regular activities, we hope we do not forget them or the lessons they taught us about life in other places and the many history lessons they shared with us. 

About 10 days ago, I was feeling tired and wanting to go home.  Then, a new surge of energy came over me, especially in Bandhavgarh Park, and I did not want to leave.  However, it is time.  Mark insists 7 weeks is too long and does not want to be gone longer than a month in the future.  We shall see.  I am hoping he will be OK with a compromise of 5 weeks.  The blog took about as much time and energy as other trips, except we had better WiFi on this trip, even in places I expected to find none.  That helped allow me to insert more images into the posts and even tell some of the story through a series of photos.   

Here are some words that Mother Teresa spoke that touched me and will, I hope, touch you too.  Of all the different religions we experienced during this adventure, the most powerful words and lessons come from this little woman filled with love.

Love and blessings to you all,

Julia and Mark 

“So you and I, let us begin with that tender love and care in our own home.  For this is what we have been created for.  This is what Jesus came to teach us, to love one another as He loves each one of us.  We have many poor people around the world, but I find that the poverty of loneliness, the poverty of being unwanted, unloved, uncared, just left, a throwaway of society, is a very difficult and very, very burdensome poverty, very difficult to remove.

I have picked up from the streets hungry people, and by giving them to eat, by giving them a bed to sleep, I have removed the suffering, but for the lonely, the shut-ins, the unwanted, it’s not so easy.  And so there you and I must come forward, and share the joy of loving, but we cannot give what we don’t have.  That’s why we need to pray.  And prayer will give us a clean heart, and a clean heart will allow us to see God in each other.  And if we see God in each other, we will be able to live in peace, and if we live in peace, we will be able to share the joy of loving with each other and God will be with us.

God bless you,

Mother Teresa”

October 1, 2019

Attached is a map of Kolkata.  It is hard to find places on it, especially if they are not marked, but I will try to locate the things I can.  Our hotel is the Oberoi Grand and it is on the map near the north east corner of the green park land.  In the south end of the park is the Queen Victoria Museum and on the right side of the Howrah Bridge is the Flower Market.  The boat ride started and ended at the Chandpal Ghat just south of Metcalfe Hall, which is listed over the water slightly north of the park.  The place I most wanted you to know about is not marked in any way, the Missionaries of Charity, Motherhouse and museum.  The main building is located just to the right of the “”l” in Park Hotel, which is labeled just below the Oberoi Hotel.  The orphanage is located just to the right of that where the A in Entally is named.  I hope this has not confused you too much.  Now on to the story.

Teaming masses is the description that continually came up for me as we walked and drove around the city for two days.   The heat and humidity were very oppressive and the impact was even greater when combined with the mass of people everywhere.  Sometimes it felt as though there would not be enough air for everyone as bodies continually rubbed past each other in unwanted but necessary contact.  The mind bends to allow the body to accommodate the circumstances.   Here are a collection of people we encountered during our time in the city.

A fruit vendor getting ready for the day.

Free city water is available for everyone.

This dish was popular with everyone.

THis man feels the heat.

A street shave in progress.

Trying to stay cool

Looking for work.

A local sculpture. Nice work.

Another man trying to get cool.

Feeding the boy.

A holy umbrella does not help much. Mark gave him a good one and the guy was non-plussed.

Another shave in the works.

This man looks cool.

Hauling some of that free water.

These men are praying.

She wanted money for her photo.

Bathing on the street and drying clothes too.

Cooking local food.

A well =to-d lady getting directions.

A family doing laundry.

Washing in the river.

A whole group of people clearing trash from the beach.

People on the move.

The population in Kolkata is roughly 18 million, not counting the thousands of mangy dogs who roam freely everywhere, packed into a derelict looking, mostly 4-story city with roads built for man-pulled rickshaws and motorcycles that now accommodate thousands of honking vehicles, which pay no attention to lanes and come so close to each other it was amazing the traffic flowed at all.  Often we sat for several minutes before being able to move forward a few feet. The good news about such moments was that we looked out the windows and watched people going about their own activities without being noticed.  It seemed that life happened on the streets—-people hawking their wares, relieving them selves as needed, cooking, eating, laughing, arguing, lecturing children, fighting, bathing and washing laundry in the street side city taps,  drying laundry on public handrails, sleeping, spitting, smoking and chewing tobacco, kissing behind umbrellas, praying at the many different temples, buying flowers for the gods and goddesses and strewing trash, especially plastic, everywhere.  You name it, we probably saw it.  

Delhi, on the other hand is considerably larger at 21 million, but the streets are wider, the buildings taller and cleaner and the size of the city significantly larger and more spread out.  Delhi is more like other major metropolitan cities in the world.  Kolkata is in a category by itself.

We had two days only in the city, but felt like we gained a lifetime of understanding.  Our first stop was at the Missionaries of Charity, founded by Mother Teresa (1910-1997) in 1951.  Now I understand why God sent her to Kolkata. I do not know another place in the world with so much poverty, deprivation, disease, depression and loneliness packed in so tight a space. 

The purpose of the Society of the Missionaries of Charity.

The entrance to the Missionaries of Charity Motherhouse.

Mother Teresa founded the Missionaries of Charity in 1950.

One of the sisters greets people as they arrive.

Inside the Motherhouse

The steps leading to Mother Teresa’s cell

Mother Teresa’s cell where she lived and died.

Mother Teresa’s Tomb in the Motherhouse.

The caption on her tomb.

Statue of Mother Teresa with her hand held down in blessing for those who sit under it.

A close up of Mother Teresa’s face.

When we entered the Missionaries of Charity Mother House, we were ushered by a statue of her and into a room where her tomb is located.  There were benches for people to sit and pray.   Words engraved her tombstone read; “Love one another as I have loved you”.  We also saw where the sisters live, as well as her private room.  We were allowed to look at the room she lived and died in at the top of a flight of stairs.  It was all very simple, as I expected.  We also saw sisters going about their daily business in their lovely, but course, white cotton habits with blue trim, that Mother Teresa had designed.  

One room contained a museum of her life and that was interesting to read through and see the images from different periods of her life.   Nearby we visited one of her orphanages, called Nirmala for “soft heart”.  It is also a home for disabled children.  The orphanage was being remodeled and those children were not there, so we visited with with nurses and disabled children.  Two of them caught my attention and I spent some time talking to them and touching their faces arms and legs.  The nurses welcomed whatever attention I could give. One of them had Cerebral Palsey, I think, and the other one had hydrocephalous.  It tears your heart out to see children with such diseases.  I prayed that God will take them home soon.   

One of Mother Teresa’s comments that moved me in this city of multiple religions was, “Some call Him Ishwar, some call Him Allah, some simply God, but we all have to acknowledge that it is He who made us for greater things, to love and be loved.  What matters is that we love.  We cannot love without prayer, and so whatever religion we are, we must pray…”             

With a full heart, we moved on to less emotional activities.

Our next stop, which made me feel very disjointed, was the main Jain Temple in Kolkata.  Leena, our Kolkata guide, who was as thoroughly Hindu as I am Catholic, and had not had anything to say when we were with the Missionaries of Charity, suddenly had lots to say about Jainism and Hinduism and no sensitivity or awareness about my feelings.  I decided to keep quiet and get with her program.  Jainism, which Mark and I had learned about on previous trips to India, preexisted Buddhism by about 1000 years and is one of the most affluent groups of people in India, representing about 2% of the population.  They are similar to Jews in that they tend to be the bankers in a community, own businesses and are very entrepreneurial.  This particular temple was built by one family using Greek, Hindu and Islamic styles of architecture to honor the 10th Guru, Sheetlanath.  There are 24 Gurus, or prophets, in the Jain religion and the 10th was one of the most important.   What makes the Temple unusual and stunning is that it is full of glass mosaics, Italian Moreno chandeliers, and gold leaf and is kept in pristine condition with funds from the original owner of the property.

A Kain TEmple honoring the 10th Guru, Sheetlanath

Some of the glad and mirror work on the ceiling of the Jain Temple.

Glass mosaics in the temple.

Another glass mosaic flower in the temple.

Gold work and Greek columns inside the temple.

A portion of the central ceiling in the temple.

Spectacular mirror work inside the Jain temple.

 These devotees of Jainism keep the statue of their Guru, Sheetlaneth, spotless and constantly blow incense and sandalwood paste at it.  The followers of Jainism preach vegetarianism, meditation, non-attachment (but what about attachment to this very rich temple); non-violence, truthfulness and moral inspiration of life values.  Jains, it seems, are generally healthy and well-to-do.  

A book seller on the Used Book Street.

Booksellers and Publishers.

THe street entrance to the Indian Coffee House.

Passing power boxes on the way upstairs.

The dining Hall in the Coffee House.

Waiters lined up to get their orders.

We visited a long time in this clean comfortable environment.

From there we headed to lunch at the India Coffee House.  We would never have considered the place on our own, but with Leena’s suggestion we agreed to try it.  Located on the narrow  Used Book Street ,second largest in Asia, it was upstairs, passed a bank of electric power meters, where we entered a large room filled with people sitting around 4 tops, drinking coffee and eating lunch.  Turned out to be a fun place for middle class locals to hang out, and the food was good.  No one paid any attention to us, except a man sitting at the next table, who asked us lots of questions and wanted a photo of himself with us. He was a local history teacher. While we ate, Leena  told us Indians have a passion for sugar cane and that they love sweet things in general, especially in their coffee and after a very spicy, hot meal.  As a result of their love of sweets, Indians are dying mostly from heart disease, then diabetes, mouth cancer (from chewing tobacco), diarrhea and cervical cancer.   Many men have switched from smoking tobacco to chewing it. 

Then we got into a conversation about why India’s time is off 30 minutes from every other country.  Ashim explained that Pakistan declared independence on August 14, 1947 at 23:55 and India declared Independence on August 15, 1947 at 00:05.  As Pakistan declared independence first, they were given the opportunity to choose the time zone they wanted.  So East Pakistan (now Bangladesh) chose 6 hours GMT and West Pakistan chose 5 hours GMT.  Even though there was barely 5 minutes difference, India received second choice.  As they did not want to have the same time zones as Pakistan, they chose 5.5 hour GMT, or 30 minutes off Pakistan and thus every other country as well.  One more example of how divisive the two countries are toward each other.  

Queen Victoria Memorial Museum

A young Queen Victoria

This surveying tool, a 24-inch Theodolite, was constructed in 1846 by a mathematical Instrument Maker, Saided Mir Mohsin Hoosain. A fascinating piece of equipment.

A painting of Durga as presented in the Durga Festival, which we saw.

Feast of the Churruck Puja. Mark was fascinated by the gay appearance of the men in this drawing.

A Bunderwallah, an 1832 pen and ink. How can a goat stand on a tiny post? This fascinated Mark too.

Finally, we left the Coffee House and drove to the park to see the Queen Victoria, aka Empress of India (1877-1901) Memorial Hall Museum. It was designed by the British, built between 1906-1921 by the Indians and credited to the British.  We were there about an hour and a half and learned, from our Indian guide, Leena, about the rise of the British in India, especially the East India Trading Company and finally the independence of the country and the departure of the British by 1955.  It was a very interesting tale as she told it.  Being Indian, her story certainly favored the Indians.  There were many paintings by British artists, drawings of how Kolkata looked during the years of British rule and far more stories than we could absorb or care about.  One interesting bit of trivia I picked up was that the name “Indi” was used by ancient Greeks as their word for part of the sub-continent and Alexander the Great launched a campaign in what  today is Pakistan, to conquer the sub-continent, and the world, in 326.  He did not succeed in his multiple campaigns and died in 323 BC.    Mark remembers it was hot inside the building and there were way too many people. He did like a few odd items, which I have entered here.  Onward.

We switched to a pleasant experience.  A boat ride on the Hoogly River that passes through the center of the city.  We motored up river into a delicious cooling breeze for over an hour looking at various buildings on the shoreline. 

Boarding a boat for a cruise on the Hoogly River

A large crematorium in operation as we sailed upriver.

A local ferry boat full of passengers.

One of many ghats along the river

People bathing on the steps of another ghat.

And yet another ghat with people bathing.

A small fishing boat.

Enjoying the ride and the breeze as we motor upriver.

Rama Khishna Mission.

Just at the turn around point we came upon a Rama Khrishna Mission.  It was a collection of 4 buildings spread over a large parklike area.  A man named Vivekanand (1863-1902) founded the mission, with the purpose of serving the poor.  It is amazing how many different religions we have encountered in this country.  As we floated back downriver, the sky grew dark and the city lights came up.  Kolkata looks much better lit up at night than in the daylight. 

October 2, 2019

Our goal for the morning was to visit the Flower market.  It was quite a drive north through the heart of the city, so Leena gave us a running commentary as we passed by many buildings.  We passed the Assembly Building with a white dome, the Kolkata High Court built in 1872 in Gothic style, the Town Hall built between 1807 and 1814 with Doric columns, the Governor’s House built on 34 acres of parkland.

We saw many other colonial buildings built by the East India Trading Company between 1613 and 1730, including many warehouses.   At some point the East India Trading Co (EITC) began collecting taxes with the permission of the reigning moghul emperor.  Gradually the emperors became puppets of the EITC.  In 1857 the emperor rebelled to get control of India.  Crushed by the EITC with the help of the British army, the British called the rebellion mutiny, while the Indians called it their War of Independence.  The emperor died in exile in 1862, his sons having been killed in the war.  Thus the moghul empire came to an end.  

By 1880, all EITC’s had been taken over by the British with a few exceptions, such as Goa being operated by the Portuguese Trading Company until the 1960’s and Pondicherry, which was operated by the French Trading Company until 1954.  By 1955, the EITC had left India. 

Crowds at the Flower market.

Millions of marigolds for sale for the gods.

A pretty collection os flowers.

This lady is folding leaves for an arrangement.

Not sure what is on her mind.

Hibiscus buds

Cockscomb

Lots of Lotus

These men make smalll arrangements.

A colorful skirt in the market.

The shade helped keep people from overheating.

The flower business is brisk.

Roses and lotus

Special flower wreaths.

Packaging hibiscus.

Finally, we reached the Flower Market and spent an hour or more wandering through the market while coping with claustrophobia and the sweltering heat.  Got lots of photos of people and flowers.  One special flower Leena identified for me was the cockscomb, a pinkish flower I had seen during our last hour in Pakistan at the Shalimar Gardens.  

The rest of the day was spent learning about the Dirga festival and watching the figures for it being created.  Everyone is involved in the process.  The 10 day Pandal Festival  was in its second day. The festival is meant to include 9 days of days of fasting and prayer with the 10th day consisting of a procession of taking the dirge figures to the river and letting the straw and mud dissolve in the water.   Durga is the dominant goddess of Hinduism.  She is strong and an equal with Shiva.  When a good mother is needed, she is that, when a war needs to be fought, she is the fighter.  She is most popular in eastern India, especially Bengal.  In Kolkata alone there will be over 8,000 shrines to Durga built and displayed during the festival.  Shrines can be simple or complicated, small or large, inexpensive or lavish.  What is required is the presence of the Durga’s statue, people praying to her 24 hours a day, lights and loud music the entire time.   She is made from bamboo, grasses, mud, paint, fabric and jewelry.  She must have multiple arms that represent strength and power.  More arms, more power.  There must be a lion, which she rides, and a demon, which she kills.  There is always a snake that bites the demon and a water buffalo, who dies with the demon.  When a team of people can afford a more lavish structure, she will be surrounded by her 2 daughters and her 2 sons.  Each of them is also represented by an animal.  One of her sons is Ganash, the elephant god we have seen in other parts of India. 

The statues start out as stray figures.

Then they become mud statues .

Some of the statues are very intricately carved.

Then they are painted.

Here is a room full of partially finished statues.

Another naked Durga.

The sculpture is finished and waiting to be transported.

A sculpture is being moved to a vehicle.

Ganesh is ready to go.

Kali is another version of Durga . This was the only statue I saw of her.

Carrying a figure to be transported.

It took several men to drag this scene to a waiting vehicle.

Out to the street they go.

Loading the figures onto a truck.

Getting the figures into position

A small version of the Durga story.

A complete scene with all the characters.

I describe all this, because the city was completely into this festival and we could not get away from the intense energy and building crowds.  In the afternoon we visited streets where the Durga statues were being fabricated.  Many were in various stages of completion.  Several were finished and waiting to be transported to their designated location.   Out in the streets, we encountered many being transported, precariously, by a team of people keeping them from falling over.  Later in the afternoon, we walked by a few that were finished, but not yet open.  Here are the settings we saw in the afternoon when things were quiet.

Another Pandal installed in front of other buildings.

The Durga scene inside the temporary pandal.

A pandal ready to open.

Durga inside the ship construction.

Another Pandal

A lavender Durga Scene

Lotus flower pandal opening to the Durga. I liked this simple one better than most.

Durga set inside the Lotus.

My favorite Durga pandal. The place was not yet open, but we managed to get by the guard anyway.

After passing around the gate, we walked a long gold sculpted and painted hallway. Very impressive.

A scene along the hallway.

The lights come up as we approach the statue.

The statue was unique.

In the evening, Mark having bailed out, Ashim and I went together to see some of the bigger displays in operation.  The crowds were unbelievable and Ashim and I had to link arms to not loose each other.  We were able to see 3-4 different Durga displays before we quit.  We could not get even close to the largest one that I wanted to see.  The intensity, proximity, noise and difficulty to even move became too much for me and we finally fought our way to the edge of the crowd, where we met up with our car and returned to the hotel.  

The walk to our last Durga was like being in Disneyland

Another animal lit up

A large dog

THIS FACE WAS AT THE TOP OF A BUILDING AS WE PASSED.

Then we turned the corner and saw this temple display. We could only walk at the pace of the huge crowd

Getting closer.

Once inside, we could see the gold Durga.

Here are the details. The demon has been bitten by the poisonous snake and is dying as he grabs the lion’s nose. That part was an unusual detail.

Overheadstreet lights as we walk toward our car.

I asked to walk the last block to the hotel see what was going on there.  In the morning it is very quiet and all the vendors’ goods are packaged up.  At night the vendors and shoppers are crazy with frenzied purchases.

At 8am the street, although fun of goods, is quiet

At night the street is so full that pedestrians fill the street.

Shoppers are packed into the sidewalk space.

More packed action.

Agate at the narrow opening for our hotel keeps uninvited people away.

Turn around and the large courtyard is quiet.

The hotel was, thankfully, peaceful and quiet.  I could not imagine the festival getting any bigger than we experienced it, but Ashim assured me it would get even more intense as the days passed.  

October 3, 2019

Another travel day.  At 2:30 we were up.  Ashim met us at 3am and we headed for the airport.  The Durga Festival was only slightly less crazy than the evening before.  Having planned extra time because of it, we were in good shape.  The three of us departed Kolkata for Delhi at 5:45am.  During the flight I asked Ashim a parting question.  What would he say about India and its people in general.  His comments came easily and quickly.  India, he said, is a country of contradictions.  Indians are patient and tolerant of the lack of infrastructure, of poverty, of traffic, of masses of people.  On the other hand, they honk constantly at other vehicles, motorcycles and pedestrians and have no patience for queues, cutting in front of the line without apology.  He went on to add that he is grateful that education became a requirement in 2012 and that Modi is finally talking about population control in parliament.  The middle class is now about 25% of the population and growing.  As more people become educated, and if the population begins to shrink, the country will be better off.  His last comment was “If Indians take a good direction, there will be much improvement in the next 10 years.”

We parted company in Delhi and Mark and I caught a flight to Jabalpur, where we were picked and driven 3.5 hours to Mahua Kothi Resort near the Bandhavgarh National Park.  The whole transfer had taken 12 hours.  Our accommodations were …well, different.  We had our own house complete with a large outdoor patio, full bath, king bed and sitting area.  The whole building was made of bamboo, mud plaster and woven mats laid over over a wood beam ceiling.  The floor was covered with tile and woven mats.  A dirt pathway lead between the houses and public areas.  It was quite charming and comfortable, even if a little rustic.  We were served a lovely dinner on the open air roof of the restaurant building and went directly to bed.

September 24, 2019

I mentioned our last Pakistani stop at the Shalomar Gardens, but did not provide any photos.  So here they are including our last photo with Shifa.

The entrance to Shalomar Garden

An unusual flower. Can any one of you identify it for me?

An ancient tree in the garden.

Shah Jahan sat on the small platform watching ladies dancing on the platform in the water with all the fountains working. Wouldn’t that be lovely?

Overlooking euphorbia plants.

Our last photo with Shifa.

Picking up where I left off on the 24th with our new guide, Ashim, we arrived at our hotel in Amritsar having received an ear full about Sikhism.  Apparently there is a large percentage of Sikhs in Punjab State where Amritsar is located.   Lahore is also in Punjab.  Pakistanis call it a province rather than a state.  Before independence in 1947,  Punjab was a united region in India.  Even now many things are the same.  The people look, dress and eat the same.  The cities look the same and traffic is just as crazy and congested. The politics, however, are different and the two countries are at odds with each other and get very possessive about their cricket teams.  Good idea to stay away from the India-Pakistan cricket matches.

Fortunately for us, passing out of Pakistan and into India was very smooth.  We departed Pakistan at noon and were in India by 1pm.  Several check points, but no big deal and many smiles along the way.  Nothing like getting out of China.

We were in the hotel from lunch time until Ashim picked us up to go to the Golden Temple at 5:30 to see the sunset.  In the meantime, a 6.2 earthquake struck a small town between Islamabad and Lahore, where we had just been.  I was on the 6th floor and the building shook pretty vigorously.  By the time I was contemplating walking down the stairs, the quaking stopped.  Then sirens started up and a voice telling us to leave the building.  The sirens were more disturbing than the earthquake.  Just then Mark called me from outside after he was evacuated from the 3rd floor where he was getting a pedicure, dark blue toe nails this time.  We discussed the situation and agreed I would  stay put. Thankfully, the sirens stopped about then.  There were no aftershocks in Amritsar.  Later we learned that 19 people died, many were injured and there was a lot of damage to roads and buildings.

Masses of people walking toward the temple.  Notice how modern the buildings are and how nicely dressed the ladies.

At 5:30 we headed for the Sikh Golden Temple. It turns out the Sikhs are hard working, smart and have done very well for themselves economically.  Many of them are quite wealthy.  It should be no surprise that the temple is covered in 22 carat gold that is 3-4 mil thick everywhere, including the inside of the temple.  Many Sikhs live in Punjab to be near the temple and spend a great deal of time there.

Pano of Sunset on the Gold Temple.  It was more of a fade than a set.

Ashim gave us a good bit of information about Sikhs that I will try to condense here.  There are three offshoots of Hinduism: Jainism, which got started in 1500BC; Buddhism, which began about 500BC; and Sikhism, which came into being around the 15th century.  The founder of Sikhism was Guru Namak Dev.  He opposed idol worship and the inequality of the caste system.  He wanted to reform Hinduism, but his followers eventually started a new religion.  They developed 5 main symbols: 1.  Do not cut any hair on the body.  God gave it so one should keep it.  2. Keep a small wooden comb in or near the hair so one can keep it groomed.  3.  Were a metallic bracelet on the right wrist.  4.  Carry a dagger or sword close in case a weapon is needed.  5. Keep string handy so one can tie up their loose underwear.  Very few of these symbols are practiced today, except the bracelet, which is easy to wear.  Today only 2% of the Indian sub-continent is made up of Sikhs. 75% of the population is Hindu and 14-15% is Muslim.  Small pockets of Sikhs exist around the world including our own Sikh community in the Yuba City/Marysville area.

Slowly the lights come up on the temple as the sunlight fades.  The gold domed building at the right is where the Sikh holy book is kept at night.  It is treated like a living person, with a bed, blankets and lots of attention.  In the temple during the daytime, it is read from out loud all day.

Back to the temple.  It was built in 1589 by the 5th Sikh Guru.  We went to see it by sunset, but the sunset was a slow fade and barely noticeable.  The place was crowded with people walking around the temple and just hanging out.  Head covering was required of everyone and we complied.  As the sun faded, electric lighting slowly came up and eventually the temple glistened in the light.  It also made lovely reflections in the man made pond.

Filling distribution pails with yogurt curry or dal or vegetable stew.

Ladeling out portions to people. You must finish what is on your plate, but you may have as much as you want.

People sitting on the floor eating. There are several halls that each handle a couple hundred at a time.

When one room is full, another room is started. When a room is finished, everyone leaves and the clean up crew make the room ready for the another group.

Ashim explained that one of the ways the Sikhs try to eliminate the caste system is to feed people from a place of equality rather than out of hunger.  So hundreds of volunteers prepare, make, serve and clean up for thousands of others all economic levels to eat, no questions asked.  Sometimes 30,000 people will be fed in a day, every day.  The day we were there it looked more like 10,000 were being fed. That was still a lot of service.  We watched the whole process with friendly people acknowledging us wherever we looked.  It was an amazing experience.

The reflection at night

A group of tourists pose for my camera.

Facing the temple after leaving the dining halls.

Our last view of the temple.

By 8pm we had had enough and went back to our hotel for food we hoped we could eat without getting sick.  Comfort food was in order.  We each had pasta with aglio olio sauce.

September 22, 2019

This morning Shifa had a treat for us in the form of his nephew, Muhammad Nawaz.  He is the head of the technology section for the Aga Khan Cultural Services as well as Procurement, which means he is currently in charge of the renovations of the Lehore Fort and procuring the necessary equipment to make the renovations successful and expedient. The major donors he currently works with include the Embassies of Norway and Germany, and the government of Punjab.  The AK Development Network is worth $800 million, so he is well fixed to continue the restoration of the fort.

Original entrance to the Walled CIty of Lehore

The street immediately after passing through the entrance gate.

Another street view. No cars here.

We start our tour with Nawaz walking through the Old Walled city of Lehore.  The town dates back to 1000 BC, but the oldest existing buildings go back to 1555-6.  Then the British came and rebuilt the city in 1856.  Soon after passing under the entrance gate, we arrive at the Shahi Hammam, which dates back to 1635.  At that time it had 21 baths.  It is believed that the baths fell into disuse during the decline of the Mughal empire in the 18th century.  The building was used for many unrelated purposes for many years.  Eventually conservation efforts took place.  In 1991, the beautiful wall paintings were rediscovered under layers of paint.

The art was uncovered in 1991.

Fortunately the art had been preserved with many years of wall paint over it.

A sample of the art up close.

Can you find the face in the painting?

Angels over the arch.

In 2015 the underground workings were discovered and uncovered.

A cut away section of the spa where water and heat flowed through under the marble floors.

In 2013-15 the Aga Kahn Cultural Services, with the help of others, including Nawaz, the secrets of the Hammam were revealed including the original system for heating the building and the water for bathing.  With much advanced technology, the manner in which water was circulated in the building was also made clear.  The art and architecture were Persian, but the technology was Roman.  There were cold and hot baths as well as steam rooms.   Today we can get an understanding of the workings of the baths, both above ground where customers enjoyed the benefits, as well as below ground level where the water was heated and directed throughout the system.

A narrow street with many gas meters

The streets are get even narrower.

I stand elbow to elbow in the narrowest street.

Continuing our walk through the old city, we passed through the narrowest streets and neighborhoods and learned 25 residences have been restored by the Aga Kahn Cultural Service teams.  I am beginning to think Aga Kahn is everywhere.

The family looking down from their first floor walk up. They invited me up.

The old mother.

Sweet granddaughter

The younger grandson.

The sister with no children is doing the cooking.

The other daughter with her three children.

The whole family. There is no man around, but Shifa thinks there is one working somewhere.

The older grandson takes me back down the stairs.to the street.

I saw a family poking their heads out of an upstairs window and asked if I could come up.  Surprisingly, they said yes, so I went up a very narrow set of stairs to their one room space and encountered six people including a very old lady who did not get off her bed, two adult sisters and three children.  In the corner was a gas burner heating a pressure cooker with some kind of stew in it.  We tried unsuccessfully to communicate, but smiled a lot.  I took several photos, said good bye and left.

Entering the Wazir Kahn Mosque

The front of the mosque and its minaret.

The whole family gathers for a photo with us.

A joyful scene inside the mosque.

A description of the mosque.

In just a few steps, we were through the narrow streets and into an open market and courtyard, which contained the Wazir Khan Mosque, dating from 1634.  The mosque was finished in 1641 by the same man who built the Hammam.   The art work in both places is exquisite.

After visiting Old Town, the Hammam and the mosque, we stopped at an upscale restaurant and had a very nice lunch of dishes selected by Shifa and Nawaz.

THe exterior fort walls are on the left and the unprepared “painted wall” is on the right.

Work being done on a section of the wall.

Skliled workers work as quickly as possible.

Making replacement tiles .

Tedious hand work is required.

Removing and replacing the structure as they go.

A completed section.

Next up was the Lehore Fort.  We soon experienced Nawaz’s clout, when our car moved through barriers as if they did not exist.  He gives a nod or a smile and every gate opens for us until we are well inside the fort and have a great parking place.  Nawaz lead us up a hill to the top of a building where no tourists are allowed so we could see the results of the work his team of skilled craftsmen are doing and what is yet to be done.  There is a total of 200K square meters of inside exterior fort walls.  The outside exterior walls were built by Sikhs in 1566-80 and the total area of the fort is 49.5 acres.  Shah Jahan, who also built the Taj Mahal, built 80% of the buildings in the fort.

Nawaz pointed out the finished section of the  “picture wall” of the fort. 350 feet has been restored of the 1600 feet long picture wall.  We see the section being worked on currently and the long section yet to be done.  He has equipment that takes exact measurements and drawings of the pieces of art that remains on the walls and reconstructs what was there when the wall was new.  If the art cannot be correctly identified, they leave it blank rather than guess as this is meant to be a restoration, not a recreation.  He showed us examples of frescos as well as mosaic art.

A fresco in the mosque

A complete tile mosaic

Nawaz shows us his teams survey equipment, a Total Station.

A tiles mosaic needing repairs. The Total Station works great for this purpose.

After viewing the painted walls, we walked around the inside of the fort along with all the many other Pakistani tourists.  We visited the Badshahi  Mosque built by Mohguls in 1673-74 and the House of Mirrors built by Shah Jahan for his wife Mumtaz Mahal in the Hazuri Gardens of the fort.  We had fun with the mirrors and enjoyed the detailed marble friezes.

Crowds approach the Badshahi Mosque

The Badshahi Mosque at sunset

Shaking hands with a lovely bride.

THe bride’s hands are beautifully henna’d.

Prayertime inside the mosque.

Two Pakistanis who like the USA

The House of Mirrors built for Mumtaz Mahal. She died giving birth to her 14th child and never saw this place.

The entrance to the House of Mirrors

A closeup of the glass mirrors

Afamily enjoys looking through a marble frieze

A close up of a frieze.

Me in the mirror

Mark in the mirror too.

Lovely detail of the band of a column.

Mark connects with a rare Christian family.

We head for the gate.

I follow the couple out

The gate is just ahead.

Outside the gate, the traffic is crazy with motorcycles.

Finally, we leave the fort and had an hour break at the hotel from 5:30 to 6:30.  We managed a short dip in the pool for the first time since we left home.  Then Shifa and Nawaz took us shopping for Pakistani outfits for me.  We visited three different shops and purchased three different outfits.  Prices were most reasonable.  It was a bit weird having three men tag along on a shopping spree, but they were helpful and seemed to get into the process.  In the end I could have skipped the last outfit, but the boys seemed so certain I should buy it that I did.  No photos on this adventure.  At 9pm, we quit and went to a buffet restaurant so we could eat quickly.  We are finding that Pakistanis like buffet meals in general.  They are similar to our buffet places at home.

September 20, 2019

The population of Pakistan is 208 million and the country is almost twice the size of California, which has 40 million people.  Given that the snow-capped peaks are uninhabitable, the useable land is much closer in size to California, so you can begin to imagine how close together the Pakistanis live, especially in the flat, arable southern half of the country.  Pakistan is able to provide all its own food needs as well as iron, copper and salt.  The country exports mango’s, dried fruits, rice, cotton, medical equipment, rugs and textiles.  Necessary imports include: gasoline, vehicles, airplanes, industrial products, plastics and  technology.   Islamabad, compared to the lightly populated north, seemed very dense, even at only 1 million people.

At 9:30am, Shifa introduced us to our personal guide for the day, another Ishmaili schoolmate of his named Mueez, who is a PhD professor of archeology and history at the University of Islamabad.  We drove to the historic site of Taxila where several Buddhist monasteries once existed between 600BC and 600AD.  It was on a crossroads of trade.  Even Alexander the Great came here in 327BC and stayed for 6 months.  His effect on the local was long lasting as he brought Hellenism and Greek influences to art.  The first century sculptures of Buddha give him the facility  of Apolo and include Greek draped fabric.  Art developed into a mix of Greek, Central Asian and Indian Cithian.

Remember that you can enlarge any image by couple clicking on it.

A casket store along road to museum.

A family poses for us in front of the museum.

The professor and mark in front of a copy of the Stupa.

Buddha with the face of Apollo

Greek clothing on Buddha .

Another Greek looking Buddha,

An asian Buddha.

Head of King of India 180-170BC in mint condition.

One of three remaining stupas from about 250BC.

Mark standing on the stupa. The stone construction reveals the stupa’s age

Remains of monks cells.

A small stupa inside a cell indicates it was for a monk who died while meditating in his cell.

Layers of rock construction. The bottom is rubble. Later generations show improving construction techniques from the 2nd century AD through the 5th.

The Greek Temple, Jandial

Remains of a Greek column.

Remains of plaster from original construction.

After Alexander came King Ashoka Mouria, who killed many people to expand his empire.  However, he felt remorse at having killed so many and decided to become a monk.  In 270BC, he became the first king to embrace Buddhism.  He wrote 14 edicts in 3 scripts plus many languages.  As a result many people learned about Buddhism and converted.  The most important edicts were:  1) Stop the killing of animals; 2) Provide hospitals for animals as well as people; 3) Establish monasteries for teaching and preaching.  His edicts reached Rome and he was pleased he had made a major conquest without fighting. He established stupas for the placement of relics of Buddha’s body.  Originally there were 8 body parts and 8 stupas.  From those he went on to establish 75,000 stupas during his lifetime.  Now there are only 3 intact, of which one is at Taxila.

Today there are no monasteries or monks and only 100 Buddhist families live in Pakistan.  Between 500-600AD the Huns invaded Pakistan and demolished the monasteries.  Hinduism took hold in the 7th-9th centuries.  In 1001AD a Muslim leader, Mahmud, invaded Peshawar and defeated the Hindu leader, Jaipal.  This was the beginning of Islam in this area.  By the 7th century, Islam had reached Iran and by the 8th century, Afghanistan was Islamic too.

After looking through the museum, which Mueez has made much more interesting for us, we drove to two different sites in Taxila.  It was too hot to spend any more time outdoors.  The first stop was Dharmarajika Monastery, where we saw the remains of the stupa King Ashoka built circa 270BC.   It consisted of a large mound made of stone and dirt, surrounded by monk cells and smaller square stupas, which were to honor deceased monks.

The second stop was the Jandial Temple, built on the site where Alexander supposedly sacrificed a horse.  The temple was built in 200BC.  It is Greek in style including columns.

After departing Taxila, we drove into Rawalpindi, the twin city to Islamabad, only much older.  On the way to a restaurant at the Pearl Intercontinental Hotel, we drove by a Catholic church, St Paul’s.  That was a nice surprise.  Apparently, according to the stats, 3.6% of the population is Christian and Hindu.

St Paul’s Catholic Church, Rawalpindi.  Sure caught my eye.  Would like to have visited it.

Rawalpindi, at 2.11 million people, is more than twice the population of Islamabad and more than twice as busy.  After lunch we spent the afternoon walking through the old town bazaar, chatting with people and taking photos.  The afternoon was a lot of fun.  We bought more fake ruby stones, ie glass, and mixed it up with people.  Observed the old architecture and crazy wiring, the Hindu temple at a distance, shopped for lingerie, and other adventures.  At the end of the afternoon we took a wild rickshaw ride through and out of the bazaar. Whew!

Searching for the perfect stones.

The gemstone vendor.

Making a sale.

Miscellaneous grains.

A fake flower seller.

Another lady purchasing something.

A future buyer.

Want a rooster for food or a fight?

Taking a snackbreak.

A kitchen pot vendor-steel and aluminum.

THis lady looks like the drapery on the wall.

A colorful girl in a colorful store.

Mother and her children on purpose.

Do you have a bra that will fit me?

What size bra do you need, lady?

An old building with contemporary wiring.

A pretty women walks by.

Kids eating Pakistani ice cream cones.

Grilled corn for sale.

A very old entrance.

This looks like the Good Will bin. Can she find what she needs?

Another shopper gives me a nice look.

These girls wanted a photo with Mark and tried out their English on him.

Two colorful outfits on Pakistani ladies.

Spare tires for sale.

Who is it that did not want her photo taken? Strange sight.

Riding in a rickshaw with an underage driver was a bit scary.

School kids hoofing it home..

Catching a rickshaw ride home.

Took a quick break in our room to clean up before going to visit the Faisal Mosque, the  14th largest in the world, holding 74 thousand people. It was built between 1976 and 1986 by King Faisal, who spent 120 million on the facility and was assassinated by his brother before it’s completion.  It was interesting to see the mosque at night all lit up.  There were many people walking around and children running and screaming everywhere in the courtyard.

Faisal Mosque at night.

The wall for ablutions.

Approach to the entrance of the mosque.

A view of the inside of the mosque.

The courtyard in front of the mosque

Another courtyard view.

We were not allowed into the mosque so we hung out for awhile, then went to dinner back at the hotel.

September 17, 2019

Here is the map I have intended to send for days.  Finally, Shifa was able to get it downloaded.  It goes with the last couple of posts, so you will have to refer back to previous days to match the places with the adventures.  I hope you find this helpful.

Map of Pakistan from Gilgit to Islamabad.  The green line is our path.  On the 19th we drive from Khapulu back to Skardu and fly to Islamabad in the lower left corner of the map.

On the morning of the 17th, we had another leisurely breakfast in the dining room at the Shigar Fort.  I was recovered from the tourista and Mark’s leg is returning to normal. For the first time since this trip began, we had some rain and wind and felt cold enough to eat indoors.  At 9am, Shifa and Mark went to the tailor’s to see if Mark’s Shalwar Kamiz was ready.  It was, it fit well and it cost a total of 600 rupees or $4 plus 1800 rupees or $12 for the fabric.

Mark and Shifa in their Shalwar Kimiz’s in the queens sitting room at the Khapalu Palace.

What a deal.  He now has an impressive outfit to wear to dinner parties for less than $20.  He couldn’t leave the tailor’s place without giving the tailor a tip for his time and quality. There is a photo of the tailor in the last post.  We learned that he had polio, but we never saw him walk.  We only know he had a pleasant personality and was happy for the work.

Back at the fort, we checked out and began our next long drive to Khapalu.  It was ever so much easier than the drive through Deosai National Park.  The roads were paved almost all the way and the trip took only 4 hours.  We started by following the Indus River for a good distance until it was intercepted by the Shyok River.  After crossing the Indus, which had grown huge by then, we followed the Shyok River, which was no small rover itself.

THe confluence of the Indus and the Shyok Rivers. We followed the Shyok up river to the right.

Stopped at a check point we captured these truck passengers trying to keep dry and warm. They looked miserable. I wondered how far they had to travel.

We had to stop to let these trucks go by.

This truck looked attractive, but took up a lot of the roadway.

What a scene. Two tricks facing off . Somebody had to give. Finally, the tanker backed up until there was a wide spot in the road.

Shifa had promised to keep the trip as short a possible, so we made very few stops.  One of them was in a village he told us was Suni and that many of the people were of the very strict Wahabi sect.  They may not want women or girls to be seen in public or educated, or photographed.   They believe in Shuria law.  Suni men can generally be identified by their beards.  Long scraggly beards and no mustache often means the man is Wahabi.  We saw a few as we passed through the village, but we had to stop when we saw a public primary school full of girls let out for the day.  I made the mistake of trying to take photos.  All the girls scattered and I got nothing.  This was one of those cases when it would have been better to have a live experience rather than a photo memory.  The good news is that now Wahabi Suni’s in this region are also willing to allow girls to be educated.

The girls screamed and alerted the ones behind them when they saw my camera.

Then the scattered as fast as possible.

For those who had no place to run, they covered their faces and looked away. They all looked pretty in their national public school uniforms.

THe girls school looked to be in good condition.

This sign on the school wall struck me odd for a young girls school. And what has China got to do with anything.

Driving down the road we encountered a forest of poplar trees that had been planted in perfect rows along the road and were very attractive.   Khajullah stopped to let me capture the scene.

Poplars along the road.

We made one more brief stop at a craft center.  The place was supposedly under construction but could have been in a state of collapse as well.  We saw 2 women weaving fabric in very unpleasant conditions.  The manager told us they do it to make money for their families. One woman’s husband is disabled and she has two children and him and herself to feed.  The display space was dark and dirty and the products nearly impossible to examine.  Nothing to do, sadly, except leave.

THe 2 story messy construction site where ladies came to make crafts.

One lady making what looked like a blanket with an interesting pattern in it.

THe other lady was adding a very intricate detail to her weaving. It was very appealing with many different colors.

We reached the Serena Khapalu Palace around 2:30.  Shifa stuck to his 4 hour time line for which I was grateful.  At the palace we were given a choice of rooms and after seeing the royal digs, we were most happy to take a less-than-royal room. The royal rooms were old, dark and considerably less comfortable.

A young lady welcomes us into Khapalu Palace.

The Khalalu Palace built in 1840.

The courtyard in front of the Palace was used for parties, festivals and sporting events.

Entrance to the royal chambers

The raja’s bedroom

The meeting room of the Raja

The queen’s bedroom.

The queens sitting room.

The royal kitchen.

The newer room we took has a large balcony.

The palace was built in 1840 as a residence and was not used for defense.  Only three Raja’s lived there before the Khapalu kingdom was abolished in 1973 and the province go Gilgit Baltistan was nationalized.  The last kingdom to fail occurred one year later when Hunza collapsed and the kingdom system was abolished.  The Palace was restored between 2005 and 2010 with the Aga Khan Cultural Service providing expertise and the Government of Norway providing the necessary funds.

The scenery is more mountainous at Khapalu than at Shigar, and very lovely, bot it does not the lush green vegetation, and roaring river that I loved at the Shigar Fort.  The rain stopped about an hour after we left Shigar, and the mountains everywhere had a dusting of snow on them.  Rain at 9,000 means snow at 15,000 and above.

After settling into our room, we had a delicious bowl of local soup with home made noodles and spices served on our terrace and enjoyed the afternoon sunshine.  Fortunately, we had a new menu to consider for dinner ands had one of our better Pakistani meals that night.

September 10, 2019

Shifa had been telling us about the Maharam, a month long season of mourning, that culminates in a festival and parade that was coming.   He did not really want us to go near it as he thought there could be trouble.  There are, apparently, festivals throughout the country on the 9th and 10th of September for the purpose of mourning the death of an important Shia leader, Imam Hussin, who was brutally assassinated by a man named Yezid in 680AD in Karbala, Iraq.   He was a grandson of the prophet Muhammad.  Yazid was a Sunni and the Shia have neither forgiven or forgotten the incident.  The majority of Pakistanis are Sunni and in past years the festival has, sometime, resulted in fights and and even bloodshed.  Shifa finally agreed to pick us up at 11am and take us to a point from which we could watch at a distance.  However, when we got there, the last the marchers had just passed.  So Khajulah drove as fast as possible over the rugged and winding mountain roads to get us to a point where we could walk down a steep dirt track for about a quarter mile to reach the location where the main event was to occur on the KKH. Needless to say, the KKH was completely closed in every town for most of the day.  Also, cell phone service was shut down by the government for the day as a means of stopping social media communication and potential gang problems.

Marchers arrive to receive tea and a snack.

A serious looking participant

Gathering on the roadside to share tea and snacks

Shifa and me in the crowd. He would not leave my side.

A participant with a hat like one of mark’s

A Boy Scout. There were there as volunteers to help where needed

Two cute boys with a lunch container.

Interesting snap. The boys looking quizzically at the albino man, sheltering his eyes from the direct sun and a Shia girl watching quietly. She was one of very few women at the festival.

Another boy wonders about me.

Unraveling the prayer rugs

A small boy sitting on the opened prayer rugs with lunches for four.

Police monitoring the crowd.

We beat the crowd and stayed on the edges of the road for quite awhile.  As marchers arrived, they stopped and sat on the ground for tea and a snack, then walked a few more steps to where hundreds of prayer rugs were laid on the ground and they could pray in comfort, although it was hot in the sun.  After half an hour of praying, lunch was passed out in plastic containers.  The men and boys sat around in groups to eat. When the containers were picked up, speakers began to make remarks to the crowd, who then sat on the prayer rugs to listen.  There was a loud angry sounding speech, a couple of songs, a long softly delivered speech and another crowd rousing speech.  We estimated the crowd to be between 800 and 1000 people.

While sitting, the men are pausing between prayers

They bow with their heads touching the ground in prayer and reverence to God.

Lunches were handed out to the participants. We were offered lunches too.

A loud, strong space that sounded angry to my ears. Shifa and I estimated between 800-1000 people.

Security watching the crowd as 2 men sing.

Finally, the participants, who were mostly wearing all black clothing, began to form up into groups before the serious marching and chest beating began.  A riderless horse was brought to the front of the crowd to represent the martyred Imam Hassin.  I was impressed at how organized the event was and how the need for food and drink was handled seamlessly.  At the head of the line were ambulances, police walking around and military with guns, watching from the back of trucks.

Military on alert

Boy Scouts lead the parade

Moving the riderless horse into position.

One group forms in front of the loud speakers

They start beating their chests in rhythm.

Again and again to the beat of the drums.

Thumping their chests.

There is the albino in the middle of the front group.

The men seem to be getting organized as they thump their chests.

The largest group forms up behind the loud speaker.

This group starts beating their chests.

The third and final group are more organized and contained inside a rope barrier as they move. Shifa thought this was the most violent group.

A boy shared the balcony with us.

At this point Shifa was uncomfortable with us being in the crowd so we found a perfect spot on the elevated stoop outside of a local motel. We had probably spent 15 minutes watching the proceedings when we were spotted by two plain clothed security men working for a local politician.  When they reached us they began questioning Shifa about us and our presence. After some back and forth discussion, it was decided we would move up to the second floor balcony of a street side motel and watched the proceedings from there until they passed out of sight.  By then they were beating themselves very strongly in time with drumming coming from loudspeakers traveling on trucks behind each group.  Shifa told us later that, before it was over, some people had beat themselves bloody with the chains many of them carried.  However, there were no fights and no problems.  By the time they passed by our observation point, we had had enough.

Shifa quickly grabbed a cab for Mark and me so we would not have to climb back up the hill to the car where Khajulah was waiting.  That was very thoughtful and appreciated. The cab driver spoke pretty good English and we learned that he had spent 20 years in the Pakistani Army and now operated a small guesthouse and moonlighted as a taxi driver. We also learned his younger brother was in the US Army. Last year when his brother re-enlisted and was graduating as an officer, our driver had requested a US visa so he could attend the brothers graduation.  Unfortunately, he was denied a visa. We were back at the hotel in 6-7 minutes on the now re-opened KKH behind the festival procession.

Back in our room, we agreed that we had had enough action for one day even though it was only 2:30.  It was relax time for us.

September 11, 2019

We depart the Serena after 4 lovely nights in one place.  We didn’t move very far, but we stayed busy all day until we reached the Eagle’s Nest Hotel.

First stop was the ancient petroglyphs that happen to be along side the KKH about 10 minutes north of Karimabad.  It was nice to have them so accessible.

The description informed us that these petroglyphs, called Haldeikish, mostly belong to the time when this area served as a connecting line of the Silk Road, especially under the Kushans from the 2nd century and later.  This is one of the earliest and most reliable sources for understanding the history of the region during the last millennium.  Here are a variety of images we took.

Altit Fort from the petroglyphs. The glacier looks huge behind the fort, but it is a long ways way.

Spread over 4, large rocks, thousands of graffiti and petroglyphs, names, titles, dates,  and design in several different scripts reveal the diverse logistic and geographical origins of visitors and travelers through Hunza.   They highlight the important role the Hunza Valley played as a transition point for cultural exchange on one of the ancient Silk Route networks.  Some inscriptions from Buddhist pilgrims date from 83AD.  Another inscription mentions the greatest Gupta Emperor, Chandra Sri Vikramaditya, who reigned over most of India during the early 5th century.  I have never seen petroglyphs so informative.  Unfortunately, most of what I could recognize were hundreds of Ibex and a few men on horseback.

While at the petroglyphs a Pakistani truck stopped to greet us.  They let me sit on the fender.

Just down the road a few hundred yards, we stopped at a cave that Shifa explained was an abandoned ruby mine.  Apparently this area was rich in Rubys and people are still prospecting.

Another mile or so down the road and we turned off onto the road to Nager.  Very shortly we encountered the confluence of the Hunza and the Nager Rivers, which keep the name Hunza.

Confluence of the dirty Nagar River with the clear Hunza River.

Nearby was a hanging bridge over the Nagar River. Too wobbly for me.

The Hunza River, which we have followed and watched for many days is the only river to slice through the Karakoram Range.  It was there before the mountains and has maintained its flow through a cluster of 7,000+ meter peaks to meet the Nagar River at this point. Very nearby was a hanging bridge that Mark and Shifa crossed.  I started and quit as it was just to jiggly for me.

Apricots drying on rooftops

A little girl watches us from a field.

wheat is being threshed in a field next door.

another threshing operation further up the valley.

A young girl with freshly threshed wheat.

Golden Peak is at the top of the Nagar Valley.

Up the Nagar River drainage to the village of Hoper, we encounter mountain peaks and fertile valleys.  Wheat was being threshed and apricots were drying on roof tops.  From the fertile green valley, we could make out Gold Peak looming in the distance.  Hoper village was 40 kilometers up the road and we were headed for the Hoper Hilton for lunch.  THe mountains along the way were magnificent. When we reached Hoper, we climbed up a short, but steep trail to look down on a glacial field and up at a range of mountains.

Glacier ice field directly below us

Gold Mountain is on the right, Traver is on the left and Rush Mountain is in the middle.

The cutest aspect about the Hoper Hilton was the name.  The place and the food was pretty awful.  However, as usual, the scenery was incredibly grand.  The elevation was 9200+ft.  We drove back down to the KKH, then across the Hunza River and back up the Karimabad hill, except we continued passed town and on and on up the hill to the Eagle’s Nest Hotel at 9250 feet.

September 12, 2019

We were here for a change of scenery and to catch the sunrise on the peaks.

Sunrise at 5:43am

A little more at 5:50

Full Sunshine on the mountain.

Shifa takes a photo of us overlooking Karimabad with

Altit Fort hangs over the Hunza River

Looking down on Baltit Fort in the early morning.

Slowly, we drive down the mountain, enjoying another look at the scenery.  It has been pretty heady looking at gorgeous peaks everyday and enjoying delightfully sunny, yet pleasantly cool weather. We are now headed for Gilgit with stops along the way.  First stop is the busy, one street town of Aliabad.  We get out of the car and walk the street chatting with people we meet and checking out the various products available.

Rakhaposhi Mountain 25,551

Rakhaposhi Mountain 25,551 feet or 7,788 meters.

From there we drive to the tourist spot where “Rakhaposhi, at 7,788 meters is the 27th highest peak and has the highest unbroken slope on earth with its gleaming Ghulmet Glacier.” The sign by the road also read, “It is the only mountain on earth that plummets uninterrupted for almost 6,000 meters from its summit to its broad base, which measures almost 20 kilometers east to west.”  There is a rough road that climbs part way up the mountain so we decided to drive as far as possible and then walk.  We managed to get to 2366 meters and had only another 5422 meters to go when we turned around and went back down the hill to the cluster of cafes, with mouth dropping views.  Pakistani tourists were all over the place.

After a small snack of French fries at one of the cafe’s, we carried on down the road with one more stop to watch a baker making momos, or pasties, on the street and next door a wood turner making a small bowl.  We bought no momos, but we did buy a few spoons in apricot and willow wood.

The bread maker spreads a meat concoction on bread…

After filling and sealing the meat pie.

Cooking the pies on the hot burner.

Wood carver making a small bowl

Close up of the bowl turning under the pressure of the spinning water wheel.

The carver opens his water wheel to show us how it works

poons and bowls he had for sale. We bought 1 willow and 4 apricot and spoons.

Finally, we arrived in Gilgit and went directly to the Serena Hotel to unwind and enjoy the property, which had a large, attractive English style garden.  We watched the sunset from our green garden terrace.  A gentleman named, Saidulah Baig, joined Shifa and us for dinner in the hotel.  We had a very informative visit talking about his work educating girls in Pakistan and the Central Asia Institute (CAI). We learned that Saidullah is also Ishmaili and that he and Shifa went to school together when they were young.  What an unplanned coincidence that is.

Saidullah Baig, Shifa and Mark after dinner at the Serena Hotel.

It had been an action packed couple of days and we were ready to go to bed shortly after saying good bye to Saidullah.

September 6, 2019

Detail map of far northern Pakistan. We went as far west as Ziarat in the Chipursan Valley, which starts at Sost (follow the blue line left from Sost).  By the end of this day, the 6th, we will be at Gulmit.  Eventually we will get to Gilgit and Skardu before flying south to Islamabad.

Before leaving the Guest House, Fahim gave Mark a local, white wool hat.  It was a very thoughtful gift.  Then we said good bye to the staff and drove back through the valley.  The morning light was really nice and we took several photos of people working in their fields.  Wheat is the primary crop in northern Pakistan.

Mark in his new Chipursan Valey wool hat joins me in greeting Hikayat Shah in his fields.

We saw Hikayat Shah working in his fields as we were passing by and he ran across them to greet us. Such an infectiously nice man.  We chatted with him for several minutes and were sorry to have to say no to his offer to share tea and bid him farewell.  Shifa later told us Hikayat was the Local Support Organization Chairman (LSO), which means it is his job to keep harmony in the community.  He is certainly perfect for that position.  We decided to walk awhile to get some exercise and enjoy the day, Khajulah followed us in the car.  While walking, Shifa recognized a woman walking on the road too and they chatted as we walked together.  He told us he had arranged a scholarship for her to attend 11th and 12th grades through a hunting client.  She had completed high school, but not gone on the university because her parents wanted her to get married.  So she got married and now has 2 children, 7 and 3. Shifa believes her parents wanted to get her married so she would not be their responsibility any more.  

A small hut with a million dollar view.

Shifa and a woman we met along the road. He had known her since her childhood and arranged a scholarship for her to finish high school. Now she is a mother of 2 and works in the local health clinic.

The Janat Kyana, or Ismaili Prayer Hall, located in the village where our Guest House was.

As we walked, we passed a prayer hall, giving Shifa another chance to talk about Ismailis.  There are 2 leaders in each local community; a first and second, who minister to their congregation in addition to managing the prayers at the daily meetings.  Their wives minister to the women in the community.  Their terms last only 3 years or possibly 6.  Then they must leave the job or transfer to another community, if one is available.

By that time we were ready to ride in the car, and sat quietly enjoying the scenery on the way back to Sost, except for one very scary spot.

Coming down the steep grade to the river we reencounter the road crew working in the same spot we had seen them two days before.

Shifa carefully directs Khajulah over the now very narrow passage with the cliff on one side and the 4 foot ditch on the other.

Khajulah was back to see how he had managed.

THe car behind us struggled with the same passage.

  The place where the men working the day before had caused us to wait until they could clear the road, were still working in the same place.  Only now there was no shoulder on the cliff side of the road and an open ditch for a new 12 inch pipe on the other side.  We got out of the car and watched Khajullah straddle both edges of the 12 feet of open road with Shifa directing every inch of movement until the car reached solid ground again.  We all breathed a sigh of relief.  Now I know better what scary really means. 

Just as we were about to reach the paved KKH, we saw the confluence of the grey silty Chipersan and the clear Khunjerab Rivers, join to become the Hunza River.  

Merging of the Chipersan and Khunjerab Rivers into the Hunza River.

We pass through Sost stopping only to photograph the colorful Pakistani trucks lined up and waiting for their turn to get a load of goods.  Each driver decorates his own truck and takes great pride in its appearance.  Some of these I caught in motion and others were parked and waiting for a load.

Down the road we stop for lunch at a hilltop restaurant aptly named Glacier Breeze.  All of northern Pakistan is in the middle of apricot season and this place has everything on the menu made with apricots.  I had apricot soup, which was ok but not great.  Then I had chicken curry with apricots.  The best part of the meal was the apricot cake.  Not unlike pineapple upside-down cake, it was easy to see why people flocked here just for the cake.  Outside, the view is spectacular in every direction. Hard to know where to cast your eyes.  

Aptly named Glacier Breeze Restaurant afforded fantastic views everywhere. Here we see a receding glacier close up.

The view nearest the front door.

Front view from the restaurant sitting on top of a small hill.

View from the side

Apricot soup was the starter to an apricot meal, ending with the popular Apricot Cake.

An apricot tree loaded with ripe fruit.

Another 20 minutes and we reach Gulmit, our last one night stand for awhile.  This place is slightly better that the previous places as it has running water.  However, we were the only guests at the hotel and our room was a long way from the hot water tank.  It took ages to get warm water.  Neither one of us had a hot shower, but it was better than only cold.  The food was just so so, and the bed and linens were very tired, but the view from our room was grand and the hollyhocks by the front door wherever pretty.  Mom would have liked them.   Another Best Available.

The Best Available in Gulmit

These pretty hollyhocks reminded me of Mom. She loved these flowers that reminded her of Minnesota.

The grand view from our room.

September 7, 2019

The drive from Gulmit to Karimabad is only an hour, but we took a round about route to get there. 

Scene along road to Borit Lake

Off we went on another rough and narrow gravel road to a lake called Borit.  It is an alpine lake surrounded by granite boulders eroded over millennia into many interesting shapes. 

A small lake called Borit

Rocks that formed strange shapes. This one looks like a leopard to me.

From the lake edge we climbed up a glacial moraine to a view point overlooking the edge of  receding Bassu Glacier.  We have seem other receding glaciers in Pakistan, but none so close up.  Mostly the ice was covered with dirt and was not pretty.  Back at the lake we enjoyed tea at an Inn overlooking the lake.  In a room under the terrace, 2 young men played local songs on drums and a keyboard. It was quite pleasant music.   

In front of the dammed up Lake Attabad. THe water is a pretty turquoise.

Our boat driver leaves us to climb up the hill to our car.

From Bassu Lake we drove another 20 minutes to Attabad Lake, which was formed by a landslide on December 9, 2010.  By 2pm the next day the valley was filling behind the earth dam and a whole village was wiped out.  By July of 2011, the lake was full and a spillway had been created to keep the water from getting higher.  Several kilometers of the KKH were also underwater and through transportation impossible.  The Chinese came to the rescue and, between 2012 and 2015, they built a new road including 8 kilometers of tunnels to pass through the devastated area.  Today dead trees are still protruding above the lake in some places.  Several commercial enterprises have sprung up, so we were able to rent a short boat ride on the lake. We tested the water with our hands. At an elevation of 7,791 feet, the lake is colder than Tahoe.  

Back on the highway, we pass through the tunnels and see a bit of the landslide area between tunnels and arrive in Karimabad at 2:10pm.  The town straddles both sides of the Hunza River and is very green and lush with many planted trees and giant snow covered peaks all around.  It is a very lovely setting and no wonder so many Pakistani tourists from the flat, hot and humid, southern part of the country visit the area on holiday during the summer.  The temperature is very pleasant at 70-75 degrees with cooling breezes that moderate the heat of the direct sun, which can be intense at the 7,722 ft elevation of our hotel patio.  

We had barely arrived when Shifa talked us into an hour long walk along the sandy Karimabad city ditch. 

Kids playing in the sand along the path next to the ditch.

Very much like our irrigation ditches at home, this one followed the horseshoe shape of the town from our hotel, the Hunza Serena Inn, at one end and a road at the other end.  Houses lined the ditch on both sides with one side being up hill and the other downhill.  Every house had a lovely setting amid trees, flowers and peaks in the distance.  Mark thought there was a slight resemblance to Sausalito.  Khajulah picked us up at the far end of the horseshoe and drove us through the bazaar along the road back to the hotel.  We spotted a couple of shops we made a note to visit later.  Finally, we were in a room that allowed us to feel comfortable.  The plumbing worked correctly, the shower was enclosed, the bed was good and we had a lovely veranda with a view of the town and the peaks above.  My only difficulty was the slowness of the internet.

We had an early dinner at the hotel with Shifa.  We ordered a variety of different dishes and tasted them all.  I ate way too much and felt very stuffed.  The best dish of the evening, from my point of view, was the local version of fish and chips.  As alcohol is illegal for  Pakistani Muslims, and we do not want to offend anyone, we put our beer in a tea pot and drank it out of tea cups.  This seems to be a common solution for anyone who wants to drink alcohol in public.

I struggled with the weak WiFi connection or a couple of hours and finally gave up and went to bed.   

September 2, 2019

We left Kashgar (4180 ft) and began the slow assent up the Karakoram (kara=black, koram=soot) Hwy at 9:50am.  Our guide, whose name we are withholding out of concern for him, told us today was Flag Day.  It is a ceremony that happens every Monday and attendance is required  for all minority groups and lasts 3 hours and includes Chinese songs, the national anthem and pro Chinese speeches made by preselected minority persons.  No Han Chinese are required to attend and none do.  As a result we could not buy naan as the bakery workers were at the meeting.  One more example of discrimination against minorities in China.

One good thing the Chinese did do, was build the Krakoram Hwy from Kashgar to Thakot, a town 200 miles north of Islamabad, between 1966 and 1976. 

Close up map of the Karakoram Highway from Kashgar to Tashkorgan, the last city in China before the border with Pakistan.

On the Chinese side, the terrain is gradual, like the west side of Donner Pass in California.  At first poplar trees line both sides of the road.  We drive through Oytag Glacier Park, where the hills are of deep red rock. Bactrian camels are frequent sightings.  

A Bactrian camel on the move. It has a shorter neck and legs, longer fur and is equipped to survive in extreme conditions.

A mountain wall of red stone in Oytag National Park.

Lake Blunkul with mountains of sand down to the waterline. Shortly before reaching the yurt.

Then the road enters a large glacial drainage with no trees and a gray raging river called Gas (which means salty).  Road signs are in large Chinese characters and small Uyghur ones.  We pass by the third highest mountain in China, Konggor Shan, at 25,324 ft.  The snow lever in early September is at 16,404 ft. 

I can’t remember how many times we had to show our passports, but we encountered at least 4 passport control stations and had to get out and walk from the first station to the 2nd.  Our guide said there are about 4 million government people who work in this province and they all need something to do.

Muztag Atta. A beautiful mountain. Great for skiing and training mountain climbing.

Along the way, we pass through a modern 2 kilometer tunnel, alongside a reservoir called Blungkol and near a very large, round, white mountain called Muztag Ata.  We also pass and open iron pit, which is not working because the price of iron is low.

Our lunch stop is a yurt along the roadside by Lake Karakol.  Along with our guide and driver, we enjoyed hot sheep broth, mutton kabobs, rice pilaf, spicy carrot salad, a pear and a nectarine.  Very tasty and filling.  From there the landscape was wide open with high snow capped peaks in the near distance.  One more check point and we finally reached the town of Tashkorgan, where the customs office is located.  This was our last overnight stop before crossing the border.  The elevation was 10,242 ft.  Our accommodations are a place called Crown Hotel, modest but clean and acceptable.  Our guide brought us some food to eat in the room and the three of us had a very intense conversation about what has happened to him and his wife just because they are Uyghur.  I hope to find a way to share the story with you as it is important to know what is happening to minority people in China, but the time is not yet.  I can tell you that minority people are not allowed to have passports or freedom of movement, while Han Chinese are free to come and go at will.

Pakistan sandwiched between Afghanistan and India.  Our entry into the country is on the pink line at the top of the map between China and Pakistan.

September 3, 2019

Our Pakistani guide, Mohammed Shifa, showed up early and for a short time we had two guides helping us negotiate the passage from China into Pakistan.  We go to the traffic office at 10:30 to buy tickets for the public bus to Sost, the nearest town in Pakistan, because we are not allowed to have a car on the Chinese side of the customs house.  We can walk but must have a bus ticket to get through.  What sort of rule is that?  Eventually, with connections, the two guides get us and our bags through customs about 1pm.  We say good bye to our Uyghur guide and head for the Pakistan border with Shifa in a small van.  

A Chinese checkpoint I was not supposed to photograph.

Shifa in our van. Note the camera on the dashboard that points inward toward us. It will follow our track and knows if, when and where we stop, none of which is allowed. We don’t think it is listening too, but one never knows.

A policeman checks our passports, yet again. I somehow got the photo without him noticing.

Pakistan, Shifa tells us, is a poor country, but a free one and we will like it.  The current Prime Minister is Imran Khan (63).  He has been in office a year and is well respected.  He has put corrupt officials in prison, speeded up the judicial process and streamlined the police department, increased the budget for education, provided health benefits for the poor and initiated a project to house homeless. He has also speeded up the visa process.  Pakistanis are allowed to own property.  The majority of Pakistanis are Sunni Muslims.  Life is not perfect, but most people are doing better than they were a few years ago.  The military has a powerful voice, but they are not ruling the country.  

The Chinese-Pakistan border, with Pakistanis waiting to greet arrivals.

A yak man on his steed with a beautiful mountain backdrop.

Yak time for me.

The view from the summit looking east.

We arrive at the Khunjerab Pass and go through the final Chinese checkpoint.  We could hardly wait to be out of China.  The van moved slowly through the gate and we were unexpectedly greeted by local Pakistani’s hanging out at the 15,510 ft sunny, but chilly Khunjerab Pass waiting to greet foreigners into their country.  They clapped and shouted “Welcome” as we entered.  Our driver stopped the van and we got out to shake hands with the smiling well wishers. We were as happy as they were to be free.  Apparently it is a popular activity to drive up to the pass to see the scenery and cool off.  Foreigners are a bonus.  Many of them spoke good English.  We even received an invitation to dinner in Lahore by two financial analysts.  After spending half an hour chatting with happy people and feeling deliciously free, we began our drive down the mountains to Sost. 

Unnamed peak after we leave the pass. One of many.

Another beautiful unnamed peak as we proceed down the KKH.

A lovely scene of a receding glacier.

Another lovely mountain scene.

Another mountain range appears.

Like the east side of Donner, the view was dramatic and spectacular, but the road was much longer and steeper with 2 narrow lanes. My heart was in my throat much of the way down, but the scenery was so spectacular I could not take my eyes away.  The mountains we passed through were all part of the Karakoram Range.

A young male Ibex on the hill across the river from the highway.

A female Ibex with a baby behind her. Both images taken by Mohammed Shifa with a long lease.

At one point we stopped to look at a herd of Ibex on the opposite mountain side.  We soon learned that Shifa is also a hunting guide and takes big game hunters into the local mountains in winter to hunt Ibex, Blue and Marco Polo Sheep.  He said he spotted 18 animals including babies.  I was able to find 6 with his help.  The tan animals are mostly lost amid the rocky slopes.

Starting with one sheep

Then a few more brave the bridge.

The sheep are getting the idea.

They hardly need any assistance and crowd to get across.

Further down the mountain side we came upon a large flock of sheep being herded across a very narrow, home made bridge to get to the other side of the river.  We arrived in time to see the first animal being helped across and then the next several.  Soon, the sheep stood in line dutifully to cross the tiny bridge.  It was fun to watch.  Back on the road, we reached a Guest House and stopped for tea and cookies.  When we pulled into the hotel at Sost it was 3:40.  The time suddenly changed to 3 hours earlier, upon entering Pakistan, due to the National Beijing time throughout China.  Much more reasonable for the actual daylight.  The elevation was 9450 ft, a huge drop from the Pass.  The hotel was several levels below our preferred digs, but they were the best available.  The floor was lumpy and there was only a trickle of tepid water.  The bed was ok.