Pakistan “Heading Back to Abbottabad”

• November 17, 2020
• By Daryl
• 2 Comments

The shelling in Neelum Valley from India had not stopped, three days later. Drivers refuse to take a risk, so we headed back to Abbottabad. 

It has rained for three days making the water grey, but the skies were clear. It was like the sky fell into the streams and rivers, turning the water grey and the sky to blue. Smiling faces were more common as the rain makes people happy. The now murky rivers were running strong with more rain; the results was the swollen torrential changes. The trees look healthier as the pines were much greener. Some of that was do to being cleaned of layers of dust. At any rate, it was beautiful.

We arranged a driver with the understanding that we wanted to  drive towards the Indian border to take pictures of the newly fallen snow and clear skies. Before leaving, the loading our luggage was like a puzzle, with the trunk sharing room with some personal prayer rugs inside. The trash bin had some tasty food inside as birds were circling above and about fifty crows stood on the edge. The driver heads the wrong way and there is no talking him into going anywhere closer to the violence. Our translator was heating up with all the failed communication, so we headed the way the driver demands, fear prevailed. 

The road was unrecognizable as it was cleaner, and washed out in some places. Half of the asphalt and road was washed away. In one spot I could see the old road two feet below the new one, where the torrents of water had washed away a section. One place the road was only dirt and only one lane wide, that certainly did not make me feel comfortable riding over it, with the canyon floor thousands of feet below. 

We round one corner with a man perched on the concrete barrier like a bird, with a drop off down a canyon at his back. In a vacant lot, some boys are playing cricket. The boy was holding the bat backwards, he still made contact and was running as we passed. The mountains in the background had clouds clinging to the top, with a sprinkling of snow from the storm. 

A transport van had a wig hanging down from the back of the rig. We saw about three trucks or lories like that, but we don’t know what it means; no less interesting. The lories decorate with ornate paint and hanging chimes dangling from chains. Each trucking company had their own design. The more flamboyant the design, the better business became. In the 1950s, Karachi became a hub of truck art, and a title it still holds today. When Hajji Hussain, an artist known for his elaborate palace frescoes, settled in town, and lacking in palaces to paint, he turned to decorating trucks, and his ornate, floral style pushed the genre forward. Today all vans and lories are painted and decorated. So the fade of jingle trucks began and is now has spread from Pakistan to countries all around the world. 

In one town the kitchens who sell a ground beef dish, piles the meat high besides the grill. It looked like twenty pounds of unrefrigerated course ground beef. If it works for one person, many will follow. We must have seen eight of these wood grilled restaurants in one area. 

The cold weather followed the rain, people were warming themselves with open fires by their shops. Many small fires could be seen all over the towns. Men wrap themselves in blankets, around their heads and drape down their backs. This seems preferred to jackets as more use blankets. Fruit stands are abundant and like many districts they may be grouped in an area.

Beards are very common for Pakistani, as many people are very religious. The last prophet wore a beard, so many follow his lead. In this country, after the call to prayer, small prayer rugs, are seen laying in the direction of Mecca. Men are standing then on their knees and bowing during prayer and they do this five times a day. Many Muslim countries are not this religious and forgo all the active praying. They still claim the Muslim Religion but not all the formality. 

The meat markets are also close together. The meat will hang in plain view on a hook. They sell everything in one day so refrigeration is not necessary. Our health departments in America, would not like this.

The skies were clear but the road was slow. Our driver was always trying to pass. As we passed, locals would catch our eyes and follow us, paying close attention to the the Bunny in the back seat. Sometime men on top of vans and trucks would all turn around to take us in. We had a nice car, this time. Tiny underpowered vehicles are the norm here. When going down hill they drive like maniacs, with the tires sliding sideways, and the seatbelt which did not work. My knees were against the dash and Bunny was wanting more legroom in the back. Women have to sit in the back seat to be separate. Bunny hated this, for she likes to take photos out the front window, too.

Coal mines could be seen along the side of the roads with men standing outside. Their skin and clothes would have a layer of the black mater all over them. I imagine the sink would also, in the morning, coughing up the black phlegm. The coal would be another reason for the poor air quality, we have seen so much of. 

Coming back into town, we see a balloon salesman with colorful helium balloons rising above his head. The photo almost looks like a black and grey photo with the only color coming from the balloons and people up close. 

We made it back to our home in Abbottabad, with its excellent cook, heat, and comfortable bed. Soon the birds broke out in a flurry of songs, seemingly saying; “welcome back, our friends.”