Shigar - September 1, 2007

September 1, 2007

Most days start early, somewhere between 6:00 and 7:30 AM, but we got to sleep-in today. At 10:00AM we strolled into Shigar through dust clogged lanes, past women washing clothes and children in the schoolyard. Lingering by a store run by an elder man with a long white beard several fellow travelers purchased items and he graciously allowed us to photograph him. A short walk later and stopping at another shop, someone asked, “Why would they be selling tennis balls?” The balls were cricket balls. We bought 12 for a school, followed up with more balls and a soccer ball purchased at other shops along the way.

Next stop was a 14th century mosque adorned with intricate wood carvings and a Sycamore tree in the courtyard estimated at 700 years old with a trunk diameter of approximately 7 feet. There we were introduced to Rashaad, an expedition guide for mountaineers climbing K2 who proudly escorted us around Shigar. I asked him if he knew Dr. Greg and he excitedly said yes and he would take us to Dr. Greg’s school in the village.

After arriving at the all girls’ school, the group was invited into a classroom where the students sang to us. I brought a Polaroid camera and following some initial shyness, the girls let me take their pictures, although still quite reticent. Interestingly enough, as the girls sang the second time the ones in the front row kept looking down on the teacher’s desk where the developing photos lay. Before leaving, we donated the school supplies purchased in Gilgit, and the headmaster was very appreciative.

We should mention an event that occurred on our way to the school. Tamara was walking with Rashaad when she stopped to ask a group of men if she could take their photo. A couple of men shook their heads “yes”, but one man with a long beard protested to the guide, Rashaad, saying “No” quite sternly. Walking away she asked the guide what that was all about and he replied, “Did you see the man with the beard?” Tamara replied, “Yes.” The guide offered, “That man is very conservative and he is a Taliban; we don’t like the Taliban.” As the guide and Tamara walked away, a fellow traveler saw the bearded man shaking his finger at the other men and yelling at them right in their faces. What was happening he thought? Watch for the continuing story on the next blog.

Walking back from the girls’ school, Tamara took more Polaroid pictures of the children that gathered around her. They were very happy to receive a photo of themselves. A mother of several children stood in the background motioning that Tamara take photos of her children. She gradually edged out to the lane, had the biggest smile on her face. When it was time to head back for lunch, our guide, Claudio, arranged for unusual transportation. A man with a tractor and attached cart loaded us into the cart and drove the gang to the hotel. Men we passed along the way (of course, no women were out), laughed and smiled at the sight of these Americans in a cart.

After returning to the Shigar Fort-Palace we rested for a couple of hours with a hike up a steep mountain planned at 4:00PM. The hike led by Rashaad and Claudio up to a fort turned into a slippery uphill scramble. The trail steepened with more loose rocks, pulverized rock, flowing water and loose gravel. We didn’t reach the fort since it was deemed too unsafe to continue. At a high point overlooking a gorge we had a beautiful view of a river valley and stopped for photos before picking our way down the mountain.

We then rushed to the polo field to watch a local polo match with lots of Shagir’s male citizens but again no women. When we showed up directly from hiking in shorts, the gawking started. As a curiosity, the Pakistanis kept watching us, probably equally as much as watching the men on horses. Stones marked the goal area. The polo teams comprised of six men on horses, three on each side. It was fun to watch and crowd cheered when men scored goals. Our guide attempted to teach the young Pakistanis in the stands to do the wave. Somehow, progressive jumping up and shouting didn’t quite translate into wave action, but they did enjoy throwing up their arms, yelling and laughing while performing their sense of the Wave. Imagine, a new trend, the Wave in Baltistan. What’s this country coming to?

Goodbye from Northern Territory of Pakistan,

Garry, Rich, and Tamara

Captions: 1) Local Shigar vendor selling sling shots, etc. 2) Old mosque 3) All girl's school, one of Dr. Greg's schools 4) Polo match contestant 5) Tractor and cart ride back to our hotel