Skip to main content

A Presidential visit

Beautiful People - celebrating the President at Central Park
 For the past few months, Khorog residents have been busy repaving roads, completing unfinished buildings, walls, park boundaries.  We’ve never seen such frantic activity, nor Khorog looking so ... spruced.  President Rahmon is on his rounds... he’s visited Penjikent, ........ and now it’s the turn of the capital of the Pamirs.  The response to this ‘State Visit’ is mixed.   Some people shrug their shoulders in resignation, others plan what they are going to wear and how they can finagle a ‘ring side seat’ for this parade.   And us?  We’re going fishing.  Well, we might wait until the weekend, when all the fuss is over.

The Pamiris seldom say 'No' to a photo op.
On his visit, the President opened the new Lycee, a gymnasium, amongst other notable activities.  The speechifying took place in Central Park, and of course, no-one but invited guests were able to get anywhere near the area.  The PECTA office, located in the Park, just yards from the centre of activity, was closed for the day.  No access.  Jelte did try to get in via an un-known rear entrance along the river.  Two guards with Kalashnikovs saw him off!!   Everyone (or almost) was dressed for the occasion, in suits, ties (which you almost never see in Khorog), Kyrgyz hats, Pamiri Hats, Pamiri traditional dress.  For women, red was the colour of the day.  

Red IS the colour
There is no florist in Khorog;  there just isn’t the disposable income to make it a viable business.  But on this day, there  were fresh flowers everywhere!!  Pot plants that must have been nurtured by just about every Khorog resident, lined the walkways and entrances of Central Park.  The Tajik flag flew everywhere as well as  from the highest mountain peaks (and they are still there).  A huge flag and welcome message adorned the mountain-side.    Jelte, I and a few stalwarts were busy with meetings while all of Khorog lined the streets to wave their  flags and welcome Him to Khorog.  And then it was over.  The pot plants went back indoors, the flowers were appropriated by those quick enough to claim them and the crowds dispersed.   Until the next time...... meanwhile, Jelte and I are off  fishing over the weekend  at  Yeshikul and Burunkul in the Murghab.  

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Beyond the Rupununi

Today is a day of celebration for us;  exactly a year ago we landed in Georgetown.  We can still remember the excitement in the pits of our stomachs when we saw the advertisement, inviting interested applicants to respond to an invitation to work with local Amerindian communities in the south of Guyana.... one of the three Guianas  - the other two being French Guyana (still a part of France, so no visa necessary for Europeans, and Suriname, which the Dutch (like the British did to Guyana) happily returned to their rightful owners.  So, here we are and apart from the fact that one is not tripping over wildlife and primary forest at every step, we have certainly not been disappointed.  Waiting for the boat to Rewa Eco Lodge John Gimlette's book 'Wild Coast' brings this part of the world to vivid  and at times, shocking, life.  Since our arrival in March last year, we have visited Suriname (Paramaribo), where one can live the life of the Dutch knowing that summer re

Boom-boxes, Birds and Bush-masters

 Memories go back to  Tajikistan; here an Afghan trader at one of the border markets Our memories drift back to October 2010, Dushanbe, the Prospekt Medical Clinic at Rudaki Avenue, the boulevard that dissects the capital of Tajikistan......... .................As part of the VSO-CUSO in-country training programs, new arriving volunteers have to meet with the staff of an always private local hospital to understand, what living in a new environment means and what bacteria, viruses and rabid dogs are on the loose and will visit the ignorant new-comers (unfortunately with alarming frequency). In Dushanbe we meet with the (German) Herr Dr. Andreas Hencko, an interesting, quirky and fascinating character. The older volunteers, quite unceremoniously, refer to him as Dr. Death. In a mere 20 minutes he manages to scare the bejeezus out of us hardy volunteers, with stories about the use of un-boiled or untreated water (filter first, boil twice), meat bought at the local mark

Botanical Garden Adventure, Work and Play

view from our window across the river... As we mentioned in our last blog, we hadn't finished with our long weekend, which, on Monday Nov 8, brought us to the much touted Botanical Gardens (the second highest in the world, does anybody know where the highest are ??).    Sunday rituals, preparing for another magic carpet ride  Another cab-ride along a wild raging river brings you, on the outskirts of the city, to the bottom of a mountain (everything is at the bottom of a mountain here btw) , where we were unceremonously dropped off by the driver. We couldn't see anything which remotely looked like a garden but the signs were directing us towards the top of the mountain and, who are we to not obey, so we started making the long and steep climb. We were all alone; had expected many families and people here on a beautiful holiday afternoon but that didn't dampen our enthusiasm. After a track of 45 minutes, we ended up before a gate whic