Karakoram Highway Going Under Water
Travel
through Karakorum (Karakoram) Highway (KKH) connecting Xinjiang (Sinkiang), China and
Pakistani Kashmir (Northern Areas)
Sachi
G. Dastidar
In late 1960’s and
early 1970s China planned to build Karakoram Highway to connect China with
Pakistan. Articles appeared in papers, including the New York Times about the project. After China
took over Tibet, then went on a war with India in 1962, then took over parts of
Ladakh in eastern Kashmir where they planned this route to form an anti-India axis in
the region. They followed an old Southern Silk Route that connected China via
Kashi (Kashgar) with India via the high Khunjerab Pass. The pass is around
16,000 feet high. Ever since I saw those beautiful pictures I wanted to visit,
however, in those days neither China nor Pakistan was giving visa – much less someone with Indian heritage, and I did not have resources to go there.
Yet, every time I would read articles about that route I would reread those
old articles. I saved those as if I would actually make that trip.
As I was planning this
trip in my mind – which I knew will be long and arduous – many friends gave
many other ideas, and a few of those got roped with the trip. One of the first
acts was to convince my wife Shefali to join with me. Then Dr. Bangash, a top
official of Peshawar University whom I met in the U.S. invited us to present a
paper at their upcoming 150th Anniversary seminar of the First War
of Indian Independence, and stay with them at the Conference site. Then we
planned to cross India-Pakistan border via Wagha-Atari that we couldn’t do in
our earlier trips. And then our Indian Bengali Communist friends suggested that
we experience the “wonderful” example of “self-determination” and “saving of
indigenous cultures” in China through their “autonomous” regions (as compared
to rotten examples of India.) Thus Inner Mongolia was added to our itinerary – Xinjiang was to be another one anyway as we will be traveling through that
province. Our Chinese friends suggested that we visit Xian, a
beautiful city, ancient capital for 1,400 years, and most famously, home of the
Terracotta Warriors just discovered in the 1970s. To this I had to add the
3-day train journey from Xian to Urumqi in Xinjiang.
As planned we visited
Inner Mongolia where we were challenged by communist lies as told to us in
India as we did not find any traces of Mongols or their culture except in
distant places where they were taking tourists on horseback rides. One young
Mongol who spoke English told us as matter-of-factly that in 1948 when China “took
us over” we were 95% of the population, however, after colonization we are now
only 5%. At official buildings there are bilingual signs – Mandarin and Mongol,
but no one in the largest city of Hohhot knew Mongol. Mongol’s plight was not
that different from Uighurs in Xinjiang until we reached the remote Kasgar
where we saw some Uighurs and Kirghiz.
Karakorum part of the
journey began in Kashgar. We took a Chinese bus at the bus station. (Depending
on the day buses are fun either by the Chinese or Pakistan governments.) The
bus was full of Pakistani men who went to Kashgar to buy goods and bring back
for sale in Pakistan. Except for us there were two foreign couples, one Chinese
but the woman was party covered, and another Dutch couple who were cycling
around but were denied permission to cycle to cross Khunjerab. They had to put
their bicycles on top of the bus, as were most of our luggage. The scenery was
spectacular from the start. From a relatively flat plateau the road rose to
higher heights and the distant mountains seemed to change colors at ease, at
times covered with snow even in August heat, at times we were close to melting
glaciers only by a few hundred feet. Our bus stopped at a hotel at Tashkurgan a
small Uighur village lined with pine and eucalyptus trees, 425 kilometers south
of Kashgar. Our Pakistani friends told us where to find Indian food served by
Pakistani restaurant owners. (The night before we tried local food in a
not-so-upscale restaurant at Kashgar but felt its consequence immediately.
Whereas when we needed the help of a local dentist the female Uighur dentist
didn’t know a word of English but was excellent in healing.) Next morning the
bus took us though some of the uninhabitable-yet-picturesque lands of the world
to the Chinese customs and immigration office several kilometers from the
Kashmir border. On occasion there were yurts visible at a distance where a
lonely family was lived miles away from another family. The bus stopped after a
few hours for pit stop as well as where the local non-Chinese residents were
selling their handicrafts.
At a high point
dividing the two countries the bus stopped for picture taking (as well as for
open air bathroom break.) The road also transformed from a sleek
well-maintained left hand drive road to not-so-sleek road right hand drive, and
entered the Karakoram National Park of Pakistan and entered Baltistan-Hunza
area of Gilgit region of Pakistani Kashmir, now known as Northern Areas. After
some time the bus came to a screeching halt, and the Chinese bus driver told
the passengers that the bus can’t go further as the road has gone under water
because of heavy snow melt. All the luggage were unloaded from the roof of the bus.
Soon one of the Pakistani travelers came to us “BhaiSab and Bhabi, brother and
sister-in-law, you just have to climb the mountain and go to the other side and
a Pakistani bus is waiting to take you to Gilgit.” After our trouble with food
poisoning at Kashgar, and fasting for the entire day to avoid complication
while going through the high mountains, Shefali refused to go further, and said
that she wants to go back and fly home. Soon she realized that wasn’t possible
as we were four days from the closest airport. But the real problem was
carrying our luggage at that height over a mountain that was another several
feet high for two fasting people. Then came a lean young man saying, “Uncle let
me carry your two (carry-on-type) boxes,” but confessed that “normally we may
charge a hundred or two hundred rupees but today’s rate is a thousand rupee. I am
actually a college student but this I am doing as a summer job.” So he carried
our precious belongings over the mountain and vanished. Our problem began
carrying ourselves over the mountain. As soon as I climbed 50 feet I had an
asthma attack in that altitude with thin air. Our Pakistani co-travelers were
eager to help us, wanted practically to carry us. They insisted that we give
them the backpack we were carrying to lighten our load. We don’t know how we
got to the other side, but we did. Passengers saved the last two seats for us.
As soon as we arrived all the travelers cheered and new bus left for the next
destination, Sost. At that stop the park ranger came to take park entrance fee
from foreigners, but not looking like foreigners, we were asked not to pay. After
about an hour or two we came to Sost for customs and immigration, 75 kilometers
from the border. There were no letup of Mother Nature’s beauty. At every turn
the color changed, but no sign of green as we were above tree line. Our bus ticket
was up to Gilgit, but we stopped at Sost.
At Sost as we were
waiting for other passengers to complete their immigration formalities, an
angelic young man came forward and asked us in Urdu/Hindi if we want to stay in
his hotel, to which Shefali said “yes.” We were more than exhausted. As there
were no other guests we instantly became guests of the entire village, and got
tour of their homes and fields. Men and women welcomed us as “Hindustani” or
Indian, not as American. This was a Shia village. No woman covered their head,
and many of them worked in the fields. At the dining room all the workers were
watching Hindi language 24-hour Indian channel. When ordered hot tea, all three
workers came to deliver. Next morning we were at Hunza and had breakfast at the
hotel owned by the King of Hunza with breathtaking view of the Karakoram
Mountain. From Hunza as well as from Gilgit, and points in between, one can arrange
trips to the mountains, hiking, fishing, skiing in winter, camping and mountain
climbing. Hunza to Gilgit trip was done in a taxi with 10 to 12 travelers. The
long journey was broken by several pit and tea stops. After chatting with
Shefali sitting next to her the lady realized that we were “Indian” and at the
last stop at Gilgit she insisted that we cancel our hotel and stay with them.
Such was the reality and warmth from average Pakistani. (Although we did not
stay with that stranger at Gilgit but we were forced to stay with the family of
Professor Shakila Sindhu in Lahore as she canceled our hotel reservation in
Lahore while we were traveling from Peshawar to Lahore by bus with them.
Shakila had the advantage of carrying a cell phone and talking to her mother every
few minutes. Her mother, whom we called Didi or sister, is from East Punjab,
India, and she was so happy to have a Hindu as their guest.) Although we
continued our journey to Peshawar, Abbotabad (years later we would realize
that during out tour we passed top terrorist Osama’s house,) Gilgit was the true end of the KKH. Gilgit is a picturesque city surrounded
by mountains, yet it must have been one of the strangest sites for us as on 14th
of August – which is a national holiday as the nation celebrates as the day of
partition from India – there was not a single woman in the streets. At the
stores when they learned that we are “Indian” shop owners offered us hot tea or
cold drink. At the government-run tourist hotel we bought varieties of posters and
postcards. There too we were the only foreign guests. The salesman gave us a
special break knowing that the posters will reach India. At the Indian customs
we indeed declared all the items we bought in Pakistan; no problem. They
welcomed us by saying that they do not know when an “Indian” traveled from
China to India via Pakistani Kashmir, although we were traveling with U.S. passport. In
reality it is not possible for an Indian to travel through that route as there
are Pakistani restrictions for travel to Indian passport holders. The trip
through KKH was spectacular no doubt, but at times dangerous. We saw corpses of
trucks or buses which fell into gorges thousands of feet deep down. For a long
stretch the highway followed Indus River, the mother river of Indus
Civilization. Sometimes our bus was only inches from barrier-less roadside edge. We
wished we were able to take pictures at every turn and every bend, but, of
course, the bus couldn’t stop for views to be held in our lenses. That is saved in our memory.
16,000 ft High
Khunjerab Pass Border
Xinxiang-North Kashmir Border Crossing
A Highway Stop at
Kyrgiz Village (China)
Glacial Mountains along
Karakoram Highway (China)
Colored Mountain (China)
Karakoram Highway
Wagha-Attari, Punjab, Pakistan-India Border
