Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'I guess we'd be pretty pissed off if some foreign infidel threw our village fortune
into a raging torrent.' Alex was right; this was exactly what Voytek had done. Soon
both men were asleep. I couldn't believe they could be so unconcerned but knew
that extreme fatigue can be an effective anesthetic. Maybe under such circum-
stances it was the best way to go but I forced myself to stay on guard.
It was then that I saw a group of bearded and turbaned older men crossing the
rough pasture toward us. They took up position in a circle on a small rise of mo-
raine just above the tent. There were six of them. The more they talked among
themselves, the more I realised our future was in their hands. They were holding a
trial. Our trial.
I moved away from the tent and sat deferentially below the elders, near enough
to hear their conversation. There are times when you can understand even unfa-
miliar languages just by closing your eyes and trying to pick up the nuances. This
was one of those times. The majority seemed to argue that we had sinned against
Allah, and also against their clan, by destroying the sacred and noble lapis lazuli.
There were two, and one in particular, who seemed to take a different view. They
knew enough to distinguish between the
Inglesi
and the
Poleski
who did not know
he would not be allowed to keep the stone. They all agreed that foreigners couldn't
take lapis. The counter-argument was that the brethren had acted wrongly in a
trade that had been made in good faith. The youngest dismissed that argument
saying we had no place there, that we were infidels and our riches were there for
the taking.
The oldest of the gathering was, I suspected, the one mullah present. He gestured
to me to come over. He pointed to my boots and ice axe lying outside the tent. I
brought them to their circle. Through gestures and a few common words, he made
me understand that he had seen us climb 'the knuckle of Allah'. He then explained
that when he was young, he went on a pilgrimage to the mountain seeking the
word of God.
He pointed to the col on the flank of the mountain where we had descended, a
point at around 20,000 feet. Although I did not understand more than a few
words, I did understand what he was saying to me. He explained, his feet sliding in
the dust, that he could not find holds in the snow, that he nearly froze and comic-
ally blew wind in my face to indicate the snow and storm he faced. For us, to reach
that point on the mountain would not be difficult, but this mullah tried and failed
to climb Bandaka with only the clothes on his back.
'With these,' I said, offering him the axe and boots, 'you would have succeeded.'
He nodded in appreciation. He took them, inspected them, asked their value and
then gave them back to me with a laugh and a gesture that said: 'I am too old.'
