AFGHANISTAN: from love to hate ... TWO WEEKS OF MOUNTAIN TRANSITION (continued, part 4) Joy disappears as we made our way through the snow uphill. I was beside myself with exhaustion and the next attack of altitude sickness, snow nabilsya my shoes and melted, turning into ice water. Toes ached from the cold. We reached the top at the very moment when I felt that I leave the last of his strength. The trail is more or less leveled off. Said the donkey suddenly set off their heels, and Sayid ran after him, shouting at him insane high-pitched voice and mercilessly courting his side with a stick. I fell into a half-mad fit of laughter. Finally, the donkey was brought under control. Said angrily beat his fist on his neck, kicked in the ribs and screamed at him. And this scene from the moment was repeated almost every day. "This is my big problem" - he said, pointing to the donkey, when we finally returned to the trail. The village of Sang Navishta Despite an empty stomach, dizziness and general fatigue, I somehow adapted to persistent maniacal move through the snow, almost without realizing where I am, how tired I am and I'm going to do. Even before I started to understand what is happening, we crossed the small hill and saw the village of Sang Navishta right below us. It was a tent with four other buildings with low roofs, which we have already seen in Varma and other abandoned villages. They were not even at home, and piles of stones with roofs of clay, which were kept on long sticks. Through the cracks between the stones mercilessly cold wind blew. We descended the hill, passed a local resident who went to the storm with his herd, and came to the tent. Despite the fact that the village is located high in the mountains, I noticed a huge peaks, towering above all that we saw before him. Their white mass flitted between being and nothingness of the snowstorm, which then subside, then once again gaining strength. Inside the tent was empty, but we unloaded the donkey lay down their belongings in a corner, and I sat down, while Sayid went looking for people. Children from Sang Navishty inside yurt looked exactly the same as those I saw in Kyrgyzstan: a vertical circular wall at a height of about one meter, which then slope inwards towards the big hole in the center, about three meters above the ground. Later I learned from the owner of the yurt, which he bought it from the Kirghiz, who lived in the Afghan part of the Pamirs. They left their homes in Afghanistan, when Soviet troops arrived here, thus becoming the last of his people, which is characterized nomadic life. Strange was that the hole in the top was open, despite heavy rain. Where landing large light snowflakes, carpet was not - they rolled and formed in the middle of a big muddy puddle. Even the carpets, blankets and pillows on which the far corner of the door as I sat, getting wet. Sarfiroz A minute later he returned, accompanied by Said a man in a small Afghan hat and brown coat. I got up to introduce myself. - Salam alaykum - I said, holding out his hands for a handshake. - Wa Alaikum Assalam, - he replied in a low voice aloof, slightly, almost absently, shaking my hand. Something strange in his behavior and a little glass eyes gave me the idea that he uses opium. I listened to that many people here, especially the Kirghiz, use drugs, which are year-round brought traders from the neighboring province of Badakhshan. - What is your name? - I asked in the Wakhan. - Sarfiroz - he said, forgetting to ask about my name. - My name is Edward, - I said look look. He nodded his head, apparently in the same moment, forgetting that I had just said. Sarfiroz brought us a large rug and spread it over other carpets, which are already covered the far side of the yurt. I've just been going to him to sit down and suddenly realized that he was thoroughly soaked. After a brief dialogue with Said, who will likely never fully understood by either party, I managed to tell him my simple wish. I said that Sarfirozu does not necessarily bother, and we should be fine slightly damp carpets, which are already lying on the floor before he brought a big wet carpet. Sarfiroza face expressionless absolutely no emotion when Sayid told him, however, he removed the wet carpet. Ten minutes later he returned with a salted tea and bread. I ate as much as I fit in, then lay down and fell asleep. I woke up from a cold a few hours later. It was about nine o'clock in the morning. I went outside to relieve himself, and almost fell because he felt (or I thought it?) Rather strong whiff of warm air in his face. I looked around, but certainly did not see where the heat went on. Nevertheless, the feeling of warm breath on my face left. In front of me broke, I was rocking from side to side, trying to look around and decide where I go. Whiteness of the snow, which completely fill the entire field of my vision, seemed unbearably bright. After a while I staggered, walked to a small hill that rises on the edge of the village. On the way to the yurt to me ran two dogs barking and growling savagely. I pretended that he will throw a stone at them. At some point, they were silent, but soon took over the old with the new force. Some time later, they withdrew Sarfiroz, which is very useful came out of the house and shouted at them. In some strange befuddled state, I spent a few hours. The next time I ventured out of the yurt, I again felt a strange whiff of hot air on the face, dizziness, and incredible brightness of the snow. Start material: Read more:
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