Friday, August 07, 2009

Khorog to Afghanistan-

6-4-09

It was an incredible relief to finally be in Khorog. The van ride was easily the most uncomfortable 30 hours of my life. I was consumed with euphoria and adrenaline as I began making my way down the crowded dusty road toward the center of town. Toby was easily as exhausted as I, but in good spirits due to our recent escape from the soviet cage we had been imprisoned in.

Khorog reminded me a lot of Sarajevo: it being an isolated oval shaped town engulfed with high mountains in all directions, and also being a town that has seen its share of conflict in the last 20 years (mostly civil). Khorog, despite its unlikely location is an incredibly young and educated region of Tajikistan. It hosts several universities and has seen the benefit of a substantial amount of development money from the Aga Khan Foundation.

With a bit of help from some friendly locals, my brother and were able to find a relatively comfortable home-stay near the center of town. It was situated within a cluster of mud houses not far from the main road. We were provided electricity, warm meals, and even a makeshift western style toilet (an outhouse with a real ceramic toilet above the hole). Electricity was pretty much standard in the area thanks to Tajikistan’s major industry (Hydro-electric power), but plumbing was pretty much non-existent. Unfortunately the Tajik’s, due to hard economic times and an incredibly unstable privatization/independance period, the Russians have bought up much of their Hydro-Electric industry.

Exhausted yet powerfully euphoric with anticipation, we spent the evening sorting out logistics in a nearby Russian restaurant. As night fell, stress and uncertainty weighed heavy on my body and mind, but with a belly full of borsch and Tajik vodka I slept like a baby.

-I should note that during my short time in Khorog, I came across no fewer than five Tajiks, women and men, who were missing one or both legs. I of course cannot be certain of the cause of these particular injuries……..but I am willing to assume that they were all victims of land mines left in the area during the soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Along the Der-yoi Panj river which provides a natural border with Afghanistan for hundreds of miles, land mines lay dangerously hidden in forgotten locations throughout the area. Though many specific areas are marked with warning signs……….it is no surprise that innocent shepherds continue to fall victim to these lingering, indiscriminate capsules of hate.

6-5-09


Off to Afghanistan-

At 8am Toby and I hired a Russian jeep (Lada-Niva) to take us to the small southern border town of Ishkashem. The three hour river route heading south to Ishkashem was amazing. Rusting shells of Soviet Tanks littered the roadway and provided a stark reminder of the Russian invasion of Afghanistan in the 80s. Separating Tajikistan from Afghanistan along the west side of the road was the Der-yoi Panj river, historically known as the Oxus. High snow peaked mountains lay jagged and bare on both sides of the windy road toward Ishkashem. Glancing across the river into Afghanistan provided a fascinating spectacle; shepherds and farmers were living in desolate caves along the steep rocky mountainside. Crops were being sewn into seemingly barren fields high up the steep mountainside. I grew more fascinated and energetic with each passing minute. We were entering a desolate, high elevation area with a smorgasbord of cultural purity and significance.

As we drove along the weather damaged mountain road the thin air slowly squeezed our lungs as our elevation began to increase. Desperate looking village kids as young as 3, would often swarm our jeep with red crusty faces and innocent smiles. Their tiny hands would shove large vegetables into our windows while yelling the prices at the top of their lungs with desperate passion. Our driver purchased three large mountain vegetables from a group of children, but only after haggling quite hard for a fair price. The vegetables were wrapped up like corn, had a look similar to broccoli, and a pungent smell which seamed to be a mixture between onion and garlic. The jeep reeked pretty bad after we picked up these mysterious veggies.

We passed several desolate mountain villages on our way south. Young women with bright colored head scarves, thick wool socks, pastel colored rubber sandals, and dusty velvet gowns gathered water from the nearby river with yellow plastic jugs as our jeep slowly progressed along the narrow path. These villages were far from any sort of electricity or plumbing. In fact, plumbing is something I had not seen since Dushanbe. The men generally dressed relatively modern while the women almost always wore traditional scarves wrapped around their hair. (Square skull caps identical to the Uzbeks were widely worn by men throughout Tajikistan)

{This is of course an indication of the blurry cultural boundary between the Uzbeks and Tajiks. The Uzbeks and Tajiks had always(as far as modern history goes) coexisted in the region that stretched from the Pamirs to Beyond Bukkara. During the early 20th century, the Soviets colonized Central Asia and forcefully split Turkestan into countries based on the ethnicity of the inhabiting tribes and clans. Russia had already conquered Central Asia in the late 19th century (Great Game era) but had done little more than establish control and set up trading and diplomatic posts until the Bolshevik revolution turned Central Asia upside down. Since Turkestan has historically been a nomadic territory with long established city-states, this task proved to be a challenging one. The Kyrgyz and the Kazakhs were the easiest clans for the Russians to deal with. The people of both groups are nomadic, and had never really been part of any certain city-state within Central Asia. A border was drawn………a history and culture was created, cities were built, and oppressive violence forced the nomads into relatively sedimentary lifestyles. It is probably worth noting that in my opinion there is no real difference between the Kazakhs and Kyrgyz when pertaining to culture. They are undoubtedly different clans……..but their real difference lies in the geographic regions in which they have historically occupied.

The Turkomens were also relatively easy to sort out. They are sedimentary people, whom have had a settlement carved out alongside the Caspian Sea for ages.

The major problem issues arose while the Russians attempted to sort out modern day Uzbekistan. This stretch of land contains almost all of the important ancient Silk Road city-states of Central Asia. Uzbek tribesman were undeniably the majority of the region, however the Tajiks had a strong presence in both Buckara and Samarkand and throughout various parts of modern day Uzbekistan…….enough of a presence that they are to this day quite irate about losing these cities to the Uzbeks. Sorting out Uzbekistan was a problem from day one. When the Russians drew up the borders and created the first draft of Uzbekistan…..the Tajiks were more or less ignored. The Uzbeks now officially controlled Khiva, Bukhara, Samarkand, Tashkent and the entire Ferghana Valley. Being the main minorities of the region, the Tajiks were initially given an autonomous region within Uzbekistan (1924). Then later, after a lot of bad noise the Tajiks were granted their own Socialist Soviet Republic in 1929. This of course did not erase the tension between the Uzbeks and Tajiks………….

The second problem with the split was the Ferghana valley……which is a region of Kyrgyz, Uzbeks, and Tajiks all inertwined………..cutting a border in this region needless to say has caused quite a bit of conflict. One only needs to look at a map to see the ridiculously carved borders of this region to understand how difficult it was for the Soviets to draw the line. Needless to say, all was not fair in the end, and many ethnic clans soon found themselves a minority group of the wrong country.}
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OK, I will stop trying to create a history lesson and get on with my present explanation of my recent journey. I will mention however that the Tajiks are perhaps the only group in Central Asia that can truly claim substantial cultural and ethnic differences amongst other Central Asian clans. The Tajik Language is similar to Farci, while the Uzbeks and all other Central Asian tribesmen (including the Uigers of Western China) speak a Turkic language. Over the years, very few cultural differences have remained amongst the Tajiks and Uzbeks………..language is now the defining factor.

By the time we had arrived at the Tajik Afghan border it was noon, and the border was closed for lunch. The desolate border post was quite basic and simple….nothing more than a narrow steel bridge followed by a couple portable shacks for customs officials.

Bad vibes and mutual resentment began to thicken the air as my brother and I became aware of our close proximity to a Tajik military police check point. Unfortunately for us, the police checkpoint was located less than 100M from the border, an altercation was inevitable. Knowing that our permits and visas were in order, we were a bit more annoyed than worried about our proximity to the police checkpoint. Getting hassled, harassed, and shaken down by military police had become a familiar occurrence for us throughout our time spent in Tajikistan: {we had passed through no less than six police checkpoints in the last two days, many with officers who casually asked us for a bit of baksheesh for their troubles} . Predictably, within minutes of waiting outside the closed border, a group of soldiers approached Toby and I and demanded to see our passports. After I was forced to answer a few simple questions (in Russian), the young soldiers took our passports and walked back to their headquarters.

For two agonizing hours, we sat anxiously on wet chalky stones staring blankly into the heart of the grey flowing river below us. Rain began to pour from the sky just as a group of middle aged soldiers began walking our direction with our passports in hand. I unwarrantedly sighed in relieve.

Six roughneck soldiers with red leathery faces and bushy mustaches marched up to Toby and I with an underlining demeanor of mischief. Almost immediately I began to smell trouble; they had a suspicious and angry look in their eyes as they began berating us with questions. By the time my Russian language skills had became completely exhausted, the trouble had intensified immensely. I understood the issue, but was a bit unclear as to what exactly was going to happen to us.

-The Situation:

The dimwit at the Tajik Embassy in WA D.C had forgotten to stamp my brothers visa. And anyone who has spent anytime in former Soviet countries knows that without a stamp all documents are completely worthless.

So here we were in the middle of nowhere, exhausted, frightened and completely helpless as a group of Tajik military police relentlessly pried us about how we were able to enter Tajikistan with an invalid visa. After about 30 minutes of bad noise, the commander of the ramshackle police check point came over and in broken English began angrily explaining to us the situation.

-I was OK, my passport, visa, and GBAO permit was inline and was without problems.
-Toby was in Tajikistan with an unstamped visa, which makes it invalid
-this in essence meant that Toby was in the militarized GBAO region of Tajikistan without a valid visa…….. which was really not the ideal place to be without immaculate documents.

{the Gorno-Badakhshan region of Tajikistan tried to break away from Tajikistan during the civil war of 1992, but when the dust settled the local government of the GBAO region settled for being an autonomous region within Tajikistan.}

Toby stood motionless in a surreal state of petrified shock as the officer began explaining to us that Toby would undoubtedly be sent to jail and eventually deported. Having put hundreds of hours of planning into this journey, and come such a long way only to be shut down at the border of Afghanistan was not easy for me to digest. I spent a good 30 minutes pleading with the officers to let us through. I told them that we would be happy to pay a fine if we could simply slip into Afghanistan. I even promised that we would never return to Tajikistan if he merely allowed us to slip through the cracks of Tajikistan’s suffocating bureaucracy(my plan B was to come back in through the border above Kunduz after the Afghan Trek).

An hour later we had gotten absolutely nowhere. We were now through the gate and in the customs office, but where being detained. The sinister smirks on the officers faces made it clear to me that this was the most action that any of these men had seen for quite some time. I began to panic……angry faces, koloshnikovs (AK-47s), jail, deportation, failure, exhaustion, danger, pain, embarrassment, shame, helplessness……..what was happening..

Their crusty sunburned faces sat on their wiry frames like evil scarecrows, enjoying every minute of our discomfort and helplessness. The soldiers resented my desperation, and seamed to thoroughly support the proposed outcome of our dilemma. My brother and I had completely lost our composure and wore a thick mask of desperation and exposure. We were now at the mercy of poor, corrupt, bored, military police at one of the most desolate borders in the world.

Our bags were searched thoroughly as a series of phone calls were made by the station commander. Condescending and unsympathetic glares were directed at us as we stood like frightened puppies in the corner of the dusty steel shack. A million thoughts raced through my mind while we floated in the sea of uncertainty. My brother having very little travel experience was now in perhaps the most frightening and uncertain predicaments of his life. Would he be taken to a desolate Tajik prison while they sorted out his deportation documents? Would we be able to afford the bribes we may be forced to pay?

An agonizing hour went by before the officer stamped our passports and signaled us to start walking toward the Afghan Customs. We were told that since our visa invitations were filed in Dushanbe and our GBAO permits were inline, the military headquarters in Dushanbe had given us the OK to pass through.

It was a Friday……….so the Afghan customs officers had not returned to the post from their long lunch. We were forced to wait another 45 minutes with our tormenters before we were able to pass through the relatively easy Afghan customs and finally step foot on Afghan soil.
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Khorog-
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On the road from Khorog to the Ishkashem border crossing
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I finally made it into Afghanistan. This photo was taken about 200 Meters from the border post on the Afghan side.

6 Comments:

At 5:15 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Dang dude, that's rough.

There's a guest house in the Wakhan claiming you can't cross into Afghanistan w/out a permit from Faizabad which you, apparently, did not have.


http://www.trekkingforum.com/forum/showthread.php?p=92381

 
At 9:31 PM, Blogger Travelling Trevor said...

That is not actually true. There are two villages of 'Ishkashem' one on the Tajik side and one on the Afghan Side. Crossing the border from Tajikistan into Afghan Ishkashem can be done with a valid Afghan Visa. It is true travelling onward into the Wakhan Corridor requires a permit. This permit can be obtained with help from a guest house in Ishkashem. There is a relatively new guest house on the main drag of Afghan Ishkashem that sits across from the main police station. This guest house(I forgot the name)also has a guest house in Faizbad. They can help organize a jeep for $150 a day, and can get you a Wakhan permit for $50. Visiting Kabul was not necessary.......permission from Faizbad and Ishkashem got me into the Corridor. Good luck, and if anyone has any further questions feel free to drop me a line.

 
At 10:35 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Ah, I see now.

While I have your ear, help me out with an Afghan visa question: What kind of LOI do I need -- the embassy website says "a letter of introduction from your employer or sponsor stating the purpose and duration of your trip", but does my employment have to be related to Afghanistan somehow, or do they really mean my regular employer? or is this letter not necessary at all? These embassies are never perfectly clear about what is required.

I've also read here & there that the visa can be got in Dushanbe but I'm wary of putting it off til then as getting visas in foreign countries is always a gamble.

 
At 2:17 AM, Blogger Travelling Trevor said...

Well personally I got on the phone and called the Consulate in NYC.....assuming that they would a bit less formal than the DC consulate. I explained my situation, and they told me they would issue me a visa. I wrote out a detailed itinerary, told them my purpose of trip, and signed it, and mailed it in with my visa application form. It was pretty easy.....getting visas in Khorog or Dushanbe I have heard is relatively simple....but it is always good to take care of these things before you travel because embassies in Central Asia are truly unpredictable. As soon as I get some free time, I will finish writing about the rest of my journey into the Wakhan and Afghan Pamir. For now these are some photos:

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=122545&id=646151977&l=ffbe7e1c55

 
At 8:14 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

That's very helpful, thanks. I definitely want a visa before going, and I'll call the NY embassy instead of DC.

Great blog you have going btw.

 
At 4:18 PM, Blogger Matt said...

You are the freaking man! take care of yourself man! Play some rugby and shake another presidents hand while you are over there. Your dedication to what you do and what you believe in puts most people to shame. I will once again be checking your blog on a daily basis again. I look forward to living vicariously through your travels, for I would never have enough balls to do half the things you have done in your lifetime. Safe journeys Trevor.

 

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