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Need help ? Let ’ s drink a cup of tea !”, you ’ ll hear it every time .
Over there , where the Karakorum range meets the Himalaya and Hindukush , where Asia geographically melts with Europe , we saw a world we thought had disappeared long ago yet we found a region that has not changed , where the Silk Road still exists on the Attabad Lake , created by a landslide which has interrupted the highway since 2010 .
It ’ s a region where swarming crowds bring everyday goods from the East , carried on their shoulders aboard small motorboats . This part of the world is whole humanity , exchanging goods , ideas , technologies , like was done many centuries ago . After waiting four hours we were helped aboard a boat , the kind locals ensuring we wouldn ’ t slip on the steep gravel shore .
Frozen , yet satisfied , we reached the Chinese border at the Khunjarab Pass , an altitude of 4,700 metres . Everything about was covered with snow , including the road . In the distance , a yak surveyed the infinite nothing of white surrounding it , despite the four idiots shouting with their arms up in a gesture of victory .
China was right there , but we couldn ’ t enter . The adventure seemed to have finished , yet the deepest experience was just about to begin , as we were to spend some days in Zood Khoon , a small village in the Chapursan Valley , only reachable by fifty kilometres of long offroad .
Our host in the Pamir Serai was Alam Jan Dario , a poet , musician , philologist , and anarchist traveller . Embedded between the Pamir and Karakorum at a height of 3,700 metres , Alam ’ s house is of traditional construction built around the fireplace with no electricity or running water .
Speaking with Alam I was finally able to answer a question regarding the problems of this country .
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