Safe Haven

by Maryam Khan (Pakistan)

Making a local connection Pakistan

Dudipatsar Lake had waited patiently on the travel wishlist since many years and finally it was time to make the overdue wish come true. Basking in the confidence of three mountainous treks accomplished in the last couple of years, one of which was to the basecamp of 12th highest mountain in the country, we were quite hopeful to successfully reach our destination and witness this beautiful lake in Pakistan. We started our trek towards a remote settlement located at an altitude of around 3700 m in the region of Lulusar-Dudipatsar National Park in Naran, where we had planned to camp for the night, and proceed further towards the lake next morning. We were an hour into the trek and it started raining with extreme cold winds, a surprise for which I wasn’t well prepared. Difficulty in breathing was the first obstacle. I felt each breath consuming all my energy and legs also started to almost tremble. There was no going back. I had to move ahead because time was critical and the group waited for me. However, I couldn’t muster the energy to proceed. Fortunately there happened to be some angels in disguise in the area, and one of them came to my rescue: the local mule named ‘Saavi’. I hadn't ever ridden on an animal before, especially on such a challenging terrain. Thankfully Saavi's owner helped me to ride. Steep slopes tested my balance, grassy plains brought relief, albeit temporary, rocky trails made me ache for the mule, then we reached the final tract of land leading to the settlement, and to my horror, it was a swampy expanse. Though I had gained enough confidence on my savior during the ride, the confidence still felt sinking a bit. With no other option, I held on tight and Saavi carried me through the marshes, jumped over ditches, and marched out victorious. Moving towards the settlement, we passed by a shed, had only gone few steps ahead when we heard a shout from inside. We stopped and waited for the person who took a bit longer to appear. When he did, he carried a tray of small cups filled with local tea (kahva). We took one sip and felt its warmth spread everywhere. He smiled and went back inside quietly, acknowledging our silent gratitude. It was getting dark when we reached at the settlement. Not doing much research on the place can give you all sorts of surprises, good or harrowing, and I couldn't decide at the time what I got there. The settlement was named ‘Mulla ki Basti’ (village of the learned). The place was devoid of many basic necessities, the locals also inhabit the place only in summer months when their cattle graze in nearby lands and hence probably hadn't given much thought to their temporary abode. Their small huts were made of thick stone walls, openings provided for window and door were sized quite conservatively, stone roof was low, and the most essential and only noticeable feature inside was the fireplace. Their basic abode seemed a luxury to us, because we were not supposed to enjoy that in accordance with our camping plans. After the rain and winds it got very cold. However excited we had been earlier in the day, but the darkness and silence in mountains brings a melancholy you cannot put into words. It began to overwhelm us. The inhabitants noticed our situation and decided to vacate one hut for us, we hadn't even (verbally) asked for it. We entered and the owner lit the fireplace and cooked the most comforting meal for us. That small hut felt the safest haven in that cold dark night. Whenever that eventful day crosses my mind, I treasure the kindness of people who were strangers to us, who didn't even question why we were there in that harsh weather, who never judged us for being almost greedy for their home. I treasure that tea bringing magical warmth in that moment. I treasure the kindness of a four-legged angel who carried me through an amazing experience. And that is the power of kindness, it could make you feel at home even in the most remote, cold, quiet, dark places.