The Manhattan of the Pamirs

From Khorog, we hired a car to take us through the Pamirs. Our driver, Habib, brought along two “helpers”, his brother and neighbor. With our hot Pamir ride sorted out, we began by detouring from the Pamir Highway to go through the Wakhan Valley, which lies on the border with Afghanistan.
Our hot whip.


Along the way, we stopped in Ishkashim, Wakhan’s regional center. We headed straight for the bazaar, which consisted of a few stalls selling various plastic goods made in China and a couple of ladies selling bread. If we had only known then what lay ahead of us in the Pamirs, we would have relished the relative urbanity of Ishkashim. While we were waiting in the car for our driver, our car was swarmed by a school children. This must have tipped off a British man who was drinking with some locals across the street that there were fellow foreigners in town. He stumbled out to great us (note he was wasted and it was about 11:00 am), and we soon learned that he was an aid worker who lived somewhere on the Afghan side of river. Apparently he had come to Ishkashim over the weekend and had been stranded while waiting for the border to reopen, and he had been drinking ever since. I asked him what the Afghan side was like, to which he replied “Ishkashim is like downtown Manhattan compared to the rest of the region”. Brian and I had a good laugh at that, but only later would we realize the deep wisdom of that Brit’s slurred words.

5th Ave., Tajik-style.


Right outside of Ishkashim, we visited Khakha fortress, which is now occupied by Tajik troops on border watch. As we approached, one of the young guards was sent racing down the hill to great us and accompany us around. When I told him we were American, he asked to have his picture taken with Brian.
Khakha Fortress
View of the Whakan Valley.

We're watching you, Osama