After an embarrassingly tearful wait at LHR (which incidently, my brother handled very well), I departed London on a plane seat between 2 uncle-jis, who, thankfully, acknowledged my existence, though forcefully trying to make me use a shoulder to sleep against was a bit too familiar, even for my liking! Still, if he were the man of my dreams, that gesture would have been viewed very differently!
After I eventually got my baggage, I was met, as promised by my contact lady … AND half her village, it seemed!! She had 2 car loads of people accompanying her from her village 6 hours drive away that I felt very special indeed – completely unnecessary, but very appreciated. So, in my pigeon urdu and their limited English, off we set, stopping at Abbottabad to see my charity boss's brother-in-law, as well as randomly in a pine forest for a rest. Dictionary using aside to keep the conversation going, it was an amazing ride. From busy city streets to roads hugging the mountainside, I didn't know where to look. As the view became more hilly (and the roads insanely rubbly), it was clear that we were getting closer to Muzafarrabad.
The city is situated in a valley and given it's almost 1m inhabitants, it was surprisingly small, albeit somewhat sprawling. My initial impression was that Muzafarabad did not seem so ruined, but as we wound down the mountain, I realised how wrong I was! The main road in had a repaired split down the middle; there were still piles of rubble everywhere; people were living in semi-permanent homes or still in tents; the biggest evidence of this awful event, however, for me, was the clear land sliding that had happened on the sides of the enclosing mountains – smooth walls of rock existed alongside otherwise jagged rock face. From the shere volume of rock that must have slipped into the city, you really did not want to be there. Therefore, what I noticed from above was simply patchwork conducted by the charity organizations that have now left the city.
The village I am staying in, Dhanni Mie Sahiba, is literally next door to the city, across the Neelum river and was described to me as one of the worst hit places of all. It exists on what appears to be a large hill top now about 3/4 the original surface area because the earthquake caused massive land slides, taking with it the houses, shops, people walking etc. And destroying the bridge linking it to the main city across the river. So, for a while there had no easy to the city. A wooden slat bridge was made for people to cross, but wore away very quickly, but only after (thankfully) the cable car was installed to take bigger things across. As the wooden bridge is no longer in use (only through choice because the river beneath runs with such a strong force), we accessed the village with the cable car. It seems disrespectful to say the view as we traversed the river were stunning, but they truly were. They were just as beautiful from the village, but somehow easily missed because of the living situation some people were in. I don’t think I saw a single fully formed home. At least, thanks to KYDS Trust, they have had free, fresh running water only in the last year or so.
The villagers were so pleased to have a KYDS Trust representative stay with them that were was a welcome party as I descended the cable car and my host's entire family greeted me. All 22 of them!! Given my crap memory for faces and names, I apologised in advance for not remembering their names and smiles loads. They recognised my need to rest, wash, eat and then sleep so I suspect the real fun will begin tomorrow.
A big shout-out to all of you who texted me to wish me well – you'll make missing home that bit more delayed! I will try to complete a daily log, but this depends on access. Hope all is well with you x
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