My best friend and I came back a few days ago from a week-long trip to Hunza and Gilgit. We flew by air which saved us a couple of days if we had gone by road. A couple of weeks of intense planning went into the trip, from vetting different tour operators, looking up all hotels and guesthouses, and, comparing rates - most of the this planning was done by Aysha, who found us a wonderful tour organiser, a very affordable guesthouse, and so on. My cousin from Karachi had passed through Islamabad a few weeks earlier , on his way to Hunza and Gilgit by road. That cautious folks from Karachi were venturing out for excursions in Corona Times, it encouraged me to give myself a treat after being cooped up in Islamabad so long.
The kids were of course very excited at the idea of flying in a plane after so long. Kavita could not wait until the day of our departure and, kept asking me when we’d start packing.
Days before the trip, I saw social media posts about the sit in Hunza, hundreds of men and women protesting against the incarceration of Baba Jan and others. Of course none of it is covered by media which makes the whole idea of going to see an invisible part of the country, or its politics and suffering made invisible by your entire system, a little bittersweet, a little heavy with irony. What’s more, they are going to incorporate Gilgit Baltistan into a province in response to India’s move to cancel Kashmir’s unique status. Pakistan’s record of managing and respecting its provinces is problematic and, traveling from the center to any province illuminates all the gaps in writ, justice and dignity, to mention the colonial legacy of controlling those outliers who will not submit or bend.
I only got to know the name Baba Jan at protests I attended in Islamabad. I would see the name on a few posters and, since then I’ve learned that Baba Jan is one of the longest incarcerated political prisoners in Pakistan. What makes the whole matter even more infuriating is that Baba Jan was thrown into prison along with others for simply protesting against a landslide which killed many people and, left them homeless. Apparently, there was a clear danger of this happening and instead of compensating and protecting those who lost their homes, the response of the state was to lock them up. Our driver Amin told us that some of those who lost their homes are still in refugee shelters.
Many Pakistanis , the typical middle class types who have been processed in the school factories and, been inculcated with images of the beautiful ‘Northern Areas’ brag about the pristine Pakistani mountains. And, what’s more, everything up to Srinagar and beyond is also theirs. This imperial ego is everywhere, plastered on our TV ads, tourism posters, and, now being flaunted by foreign vloggers in a bid to present a perfect picture of Pakistan.
When we claim the beauty and purity of the mountains, has the Pakistani project also claimed its incredible cultural heritage? Have we preserved those cultures and languages? A quick glance in Wikipedia will tell you that there are at least 6 languages in Baltistan and so many more in Hunza. Only Urdu and English are taught in schools. Also, that nothing is left of Buddhism in these mountains is also tinged with a little historical sadness because we are all Muslim now, from the Karakoram mountains to the deserts of Sindh and Balochistan to the coast of the Arabian Sea.
The last and only time I visited the “Northern Areas” was 2014: a 3 day adventure by air to Skardu and back by air. I stayed in a beautiful Serena Hotel, a fort converted into a boutique hotel in Shigar Valley , about 2 hours away from Skardu. Visiting the beautiful valley from a sweltering hot Islamabad was pure escape. It was also magical. I was so delirious with the sheer beauty of the mountains, the valleys, the stream over which the balcony of the hotel was perched over, the grandeur of the scenery.
I was acutely aware of this sense of consumption of natural beauty I was partaking in, not just economically by spending money on air tickets, hotels and, the rest but by the whole essence of my trip. City people have this binary in their head that there is a purity, simplicity in nature and, there was a sense in my head that the “Northern Areas” have been reduced to this lens only and , of how culturally Baltistan was being assaulted by the Pakistani state project: steadily eroding cultures, languages, pre-Islamic identities, etc.
It’s a very crude colonisation that the Pakistani state has accomplished across the lands within its borders: military cantonments, imposition of Urdu and English, and Islamisation. However, so many parts of the country still do not have electricity and Sui gas. Generators were buzzing loudly in the commercial areas of Hunza and Gilgit. And, what’s more, we were told that Sui Gas is not even available in Hunza. I laughed sarcastically (in my head or was it out loud?) thinking about the devastation of Balochistan, a province whose natural resources we have been looting but clearly , the dividends of that loot have only benefitted some.
I really enjoyed my conversations with the people we met in Hunza. I had lengthy conversations with Amin our driver and, the guide, Javaid, asking them all I could think of: every day living, opinions on elections, food, how do things work in a family, what are the women up to, what is it like in the winters, what do they think of visitors from rest of Pakistan, etc. It was interesting how visitors were referred to as "Pakistani" and, food was either local or "Pakistani" (i.e. karahi, biryani. etc).
The conversation was so easy with the men. We talked about everything without awkwardness and the conversation flowed so easily. It was not just our driver or the mountain guide but everyone else we met. There was no staring in public spaces. I felt I was in another part of the world, not really Pakistan. One could easily joke and, be normal and at ease.
One of the most interesting things I learned was the strong Ismaili identity in Hunza. Almost everyone follows the Agha Khan. However, there is not only a spiritual dimension to this identity but a strong cultural sense too. The ADKN is preserving the cultural and historical heritage , promoting education and training women and, this much I knew of vaguely. However, I did not know of the strong sense of community and volunteering. I was told everyone volunteers in clean up for example, after the tourist season is over. I was told that volunteers worked together to keep COVID19 out. For example, our mountain guide, was posted at a bridge to check everyone coming back from a trip to other parts of Pakistan. Our driver Amin told us that his sister is a Guide and, works in the community. Women volunteer and accompany doctors in more remote areas on house visits. I was quite stunned by all this.
I also understood that women are being actively trained in skills so they could run their own businesses: carpet making, carpentry, business, etc. We were told by our tour operator to look out for restaurants wholly owned and run by women, a training centre for women, etc. There are many tour companies based outside of Gilgit-Baltistan that are bringing in Pakistanis from all over and, it really does feel like you are going to another part of the world, of which we know so little, its history, culture: none of these places are part of common consciousness except for only natural beauty featured in milli naghmay or pop songs or more recently, expats' vlogs.
There are so many guesthouses and hotels in Hunza. There were many trendy coffeeshops and restaurants in Aliabad, the main touristy bazaar in Hunza. We tried local cuisine and absolutely loved garma and chapshoro. And, the famous walnut cake from Café de Hunza lives up to the hype. These haunts were full of Pakistani tourists, Karachiites, whole extended families traveling together in rented vans,
