Yeah, it’s a bold title. But the weekend has been pretty damn awesome. I still have about 2-3 weeks left here, but I fear I’m going to miss Khorog…a lot. =/

This Saturday was “The Roof of the World Festival.” Effectively, it was a celebration of Central Asia’s heritage and diversity. The event took place in the Chor Bhog (spelling has likely been massacred), with a number of stands set up describing the diverse cultures, different NGO projects throughout Central Asia, and so forth. Throughout the day, different musical groups performed cultural music, including Pamiri, Kyrgyz, Kazakh, Afghan, Pashtun, Tajik, and so forth. Though I missed most of this, the parts I caught were great.

The exhibition and musical performances part went on until about 1pm, give or take about 30 min. (Everything in Khorog starts relatively early, hence the early end time). So, in the interim, the ever-expanding group of South Asians I was with (consisting of four FOCUS interns, two GPISH IIS students, one STEP IIS student, an AKDN employee, and an ITREB employee), began our search for a place to eat. Unfortunately, the electricity was out all over Khorog…meaning none of the restaurants would be able to cook. As such, we decided to plop down in a place that made shwarma and ordered some condensed milk. We proceeded to cut a watermelon we had been carrying around, pull out a few fresh pieces of garda (REALLY big bread), and spent the next few hours eating some garda with condensed milk, watermelon, water, and candies.

‘Twas a good meal.

Amongst the group we were with was a guy who had come from Canada who had met and married a local Pamiri. Their story was fascinating, as he described how he had bumped into her multiple times while he was visiting the region for work-related reasons. As interesting as the story was, though, what was even more fascinating was the wife’s story of her experience preparing for a visit of the Aga Khan in October 2008 and the instances of perseverance and hilarity that ensued therein. (Pamiris are predominantly Nizari Ismaili Muslims, who see Aga Khan IV as their spiritual guide.) Her stories, combined with that of many others, show a degree of love and devotion that one scarcely hears.

For the sake of time, I will try my best to briefly convey two such stories I have heard while here:

Originally, the Aga Khan was suppose to visit both Dushanbe and Khorog, though for some reason, the first visit did not pan out. For the thousands of Pamiri Ismailis living in Khorog, this was obviously an incredible disappointment. But, seeing as how a fair number of them had relatives or immediate family in Khorog (and seeing as how Khorog is generally a VERY accommodating place anyways), many of those who were able to afford to headed to Khorog via rented vehicles. And so it goes that one Pamiri went to speak with her professor to inform her that she was “feeling sick” so that she could get an excused absence from class. Upon relaying the ailment to the professor, he calmly informed her that for some odd reason, many of his Pamiri students had fallen ill and not to worry, as he was sure that a trip to GBAO for a few days to see the Aga Khan would certainly make her feel better…

Another story that had been relayed to me described a series of coincidences and awe-inspiring moments. Upon finding out of the visit being canceled in Dushanbe, one couple I spoke with was particularly saddened; on account of their jobs, they would be unable to take the time out to visit Ishkashim, the location of the Darbar visit (close to Khorog). Luckily, though, both of them were able to take leave from their offices due to a streak of luck. Unluckily, they could not find a car to take them to Khorog (since the drive requires a 4x4 across the rocky terrain). This changed just a couple of days before the visit would happen in Khorog, and they were able to hitch a (overcrowded) ride with an acquaintance. After roughing out a bumpy and dangerous 16+ hour journey, they arrived in Khorog and immediately began heading to the site of the visit in Ishkashim (running on very little sleep). Seeing as how all of the vehicles in the village had already been booked, they began this considerable journey on foot. I should mention here that GBAO in October is no joke; being in the mountains, the area gets very cold, very fast at night...so you can imagine the difficulty in trekking the terrain during this time. After travelling for multiple hours by foot, the couple, accompanied by extended family, reached the site of the visit at pitch-dark nightfall, where they would spend the next couple of hours waiting for the much anticipated visit. Taking turns sharing a single blanket amongst a large number of family members, they waited in anticipation throughout the night. Before long, they heard and saw a chopper crossing the horizon that was bringing the Aga Khan to the site. And as the chopper approached, it seemed to bring with it the sun, yawning awake as it parted the clouds and shooed away the darkness. With the sun shinning overhead and the cold slowly receding, the Pamiris waited in anticipation as the heli slowly came to land and the Aga Khan prepared to deliver his guidance after a far-too-long 10 years...

Forgiving my relatively poor retelling of those stories, there were many other such stories (running the gamut from emotional to hilarious) describing hardships to get to the location of the visit and the pursuant contentment that resulted from the visit (and the message/guidance associated with the visit). I hope to hear more of these stories in the coming weeks.