The town of Gilgit may have about 80,000 people living in it, they get up in the morning eat, work, have time for their families and go to bed at night, but that is where similarities between our cities end.

            The city is the capital of the Northern Areas of Pakistan.  It is situated in a valley surrounded by snow capped peaks split by the Gilgit River which flows east before it joins the Indus.  The downtown area is on the south bank across the river on the far bank is a newer section where the Aga Khan university has its offices.  I am living in the Juityal section, further east is the site of even more future expansion.  This future section is now only a field of dust and rock, the only evidence of planning seems to be the rock outlines of properties for development.  I don’t know how they will develop it, there are no trees for building material and people need food, water and electricity which are already in taxed beyond their natural limits.

            The mountains are beautiful and constantly beckoning me to climb them, it is a daily struggle for me, and I have only once skipped school to go for a climb.  All along the mountains are stones letters celebrating the Golden Jubilee.  The Jubilee celebrates 50 the year’s leadership of Hazir Imam, the Ismaili spiritual leader.  Ismaili is a sect of Islam, smaller than the more prominent Sunni and Shiite sects, but most of the people in this area belong to this sect.  I hear the call to prayer each morning before I roll over and go back to sleep and it resounds again each evening as I watch the sun set.  Religion is a central part of life here.  It is mandatory taught in all schools.  Pakistan is a religious state, important to note is that the word ‘religious’ comes first, as opposed to just being an official state religion.  Unlike how they are often portrayed in the media, Muslims are open and receptive to other religions and foreigners, or at least everyone I have met has been.  However, our religions share a common history (Judaism) they have some very different ideas, marriage values being an obvious one.

            My host family is Maryam and Islam.  Theirs was an arranged marriage, as are almost all in this area.  She was 15 and he was 21 when they wed.  I waited some time before probing too deeply into this matter, but Maryam did confide in me that she was terrified at the time of her marriage.  It may seem like a terrible idea by our standards, but considering some differences in family values I see arguments in its favour.  Divorce rates here are almost nil, and it is not considered an acceptable option.  However, this is still a very male dominated society.

            The family is the essential part of life.  Maryam and Islam share the property with her parents and many of their neighbours are relatives.  It is very uncommon for a son or daughter to not live with their parents.  This is probably due to religious, cultural and economic reasons.  Even in Islamabad, friends I have made all live in their parents houses and if they talk of moving out the parents usually ignore the conversation or ask why they don’t love them anymore.  It is strange for people to desire privacy here; this also includes me.  Now in my third week, I have forced the independence to go on my own to the check Internet and to the school to work each night.  When I do slip away from their watchful eyes, I always feel regret that they worrying about me.

            I have been to the market a few times now, and it is nothing like downtown Peterborough.  The bizarre is a huge maze of streets and buildings with an endless amount of stuff that I have no desire to purchase or even look at.  Even here almost everything is made in China.  Most of the shops are small, cubical, cement buildings with the front wall exposed for access.  The post office has an armed guard that sits outside the iron gates.  The butcher shop has very identifiable hunks of meat hanging off hooks along the front, the bakery sells flat bread of various sorts, I have yet to find a candle maker and of course there is also an egg shop that sells eggs. 

Everything is expensive by Pakistani standards (a universal complaint), but not so by mine.  I purchased two oranges and a carrot one morning for 15 Rupees (25 cents).  On another occasion I picked up a treat similar to a hamburger, a meat patty kabob with a chapatti for 30 Rupees (50 cents).  But if I am miserly and want a quick snack I just pick some fruit that grows on some of the many trees around.  I can now plop an unripe apricot (it is not season yet) into my mouth split it and eat both fruity halves, then slip the nut and eat the flower seed before spitting the shells out.  It is a daily treat.  The food is hearty and filling.  I was never good at biology in high school, but I think I am acquiring a taste for chicken lungs and heart.  How do the Kernel’s chickens live with no internal organs?

Another daily treat for me is to greet the army officers I see on my daily walks.  Just down the street from their home is an armed guard stationed outside the NATO office for the northern mountain regions of India and Pakistan.  Just up the street from their home are more military guards for the Northern Area Scotts offices. My guess is that half of the part of town I am living in is military.  The entire future development is military as well.  It is a noticeable presence everywhere here.   Checkpoints are stationed everywhere.  However it must be noted that a checkpoint consists of barriers (sometimes rocks, pylons or metal) impeding traffic in one direction on the road often unmanned and rarely are cars stopped.   Their effectiveness is only useful to cause a slight traffic jam, but rules of the road are much more relaxed that back home.  I see lots of guns, but always friendly faces behind them.  My conclusion is that the military here is an overdeveloped show of bureaucratic force for its own benefit. However I have no desire to test this theory, here or in any other country. My policy is to just keep on smiling and saying hello to the guys with the guns.

The night life isn’t much here. I regularly am leaving school at ten at night to walk home, the shops are closed, no people are out on the dark streets and my only companions seem to be the dogs that pick through the garbage for scraps of food.  Cows and goats do that job during the day time. 

I have previously written about how simple and hard life is here.  That extends to the people beyond the home I am living in.  One point to make is that Maryam and Islam would be considered middle class here and much better off than most of the people.  As a foreigner I will never be treated to the full taste what it is to live her, I am still served first at meals and even given a fork, which I refuse to use.  Nonetheless, it is a wonderful experience to gain the different perspective on life that I am afforded here.  Every day I wake up to the beautiful scenery of the mountains in the mid morning sun, and each night I am treated to majestic views of the alpine glow as the sun sets on the peaks.  In between I am exuberantly happy with my temporary new home, and that is what life is about anywhere.

I don't know if you can see the cow's tail, but that would be beef.  The chickens are very recognizable as well.

It is amazing how much fresher food tastes when it hasn't spent a week on an airplane or in a transport truck.

These are all decorated for good luck and amazing to see, however slow to follow.

Captured by the Northern Area armed forces in the war with India, this monument sits in the middle of an intersection.

Stunning in 360'.