Hitchhiking Through Pakistan
From Iran Through Pakistan to IndiaHitchhiking Through Pakistan Flying carpets on wheels. A tête-à-tête with dons. Despair and elation. Morten Hübbe and Rochssare Neromand-Soma on their hitchhiking adventure through Pakistan. Thick beads of sweat are rolling down my forehead, getting caught in my brows and finding their way down my temples. When we cross the border between Iran and Pakistan, we are already scarred by our journey. A heavy storm is raging around us. Tiny grains of sand whip against our bodies. All our attempts to shield ourselves against them are in vain. The sand is too fine, permeates every small opening, makes it hard to breath, crunches between our teeth. We are in the midst of Balochistan. For decades, this region has been marked by riots, rebellion, independence movements and terrorism. Safety is a rare good here. Wild West Balochistan According to the Department of Foreign Affairs, we are entering a terrorist region. But the Pakistani border officials seem very laid-back. For being at threat of getting kidnapped, the mood is pretty relaxed. We go through the entry procedure and are sent to the police station of a border town called Taftan which is 500 meters away, off road.Nobody accompanies us, nobody cares about our safety. Are things not all that bad after all?
Taftan in the Dark In the police station we sit in the dark. Taftan, which is hooked up with the Iranian electricity grid, has been crippled by the raging sandstorm which damaged several power poles somewhere in the neighboring country. A little light falls through the open door into the dark office of the commanding officer on duty. We have to sign a thick registry book. It is covered with a fine layer of sand, just like the rest of the room.
This is it for today, we won’t get any further. An escort, for those traveling through Balochistan a precondition, is not available today and so we spend the rest of the day at the police station. The power outage has significant consequences for us. The computer network of the only bank in town is down. We don’t have money for lodging or food. Instead, we spend the night, candlelit, at the office of the police station and eat dinner with the commanding officer. He tries his best to keep up our high spirits. So he prepares us for his country. Yes, we are in Pakistan. No, other than in Iran, it’s no longer mandatory to wear a headscarf. Yes, there’s been kidnapping and lethal attacks in Balochistan. No, we need not worry – tonight, we can go to sleep, untroubled. We are safe. Outside, in the courtyard of the police station, a few men gather – policemen and villagers. Lively talks, and once in awhile open-hearted laughter, reach us through the darkness. The Caravan Continues: With the Levies Through Balochistan The next morning, we get into a rusty jeep – the first of many Pakistani military-
https://changi-flight-deals.flightjab.com/
