Bamiyan - Day One (Dragon Valley)

When Tariq and I strapped on our seatbelts in the PACTEC (spell out) Beech 200 nine-seater aircraft that would take us from Kabul, north to Bamiyan, we turned to each other and grinned. The city of Bamiyan was a great Buddhist center long before the days of Islam. In the 10th century the area was a major trade centre on the Silk Route connecting Europe with China. The sense of anticipation was palpable in the plane as the two dashing Swiss German pilots went through their standard operating procedures, preparing for take-off. Luckily, Tariq and I were seated directly behind the pilots, and we could see all of the action. As per my proper documentation, the purpose of this trip is “to expose MEDA project staff to the Agha Khan Foundation (www.akdn.org)’s horticultural project that has been particularly successful in its business and marketing component. AKF is a non-denominational, international development agency with a mission to promote social development in Asia and East Africa. The Bamiyan area is also the most celebrated potato production area in all of Afghanistan. Potatoes from Bamiyan garner the highest market prices in Kabul. Given that potatoes are one of MEDA’s target crops and an important livelihood staple as well as cash crop for our farmer-clients, there is much that we can learn from the Bamiyan potato community.” The trip was also an excellent excuse to see one of the most historical places in Afghanistan, and pretty much the only remote area safe for visitors outside of Kabul. Accompanying us was our easy-going, wise-cracking but faint-hearted Phillipino “Security Advisor”, Eli Razon III.

As the plane took off, the Afghan passengers cupped their hands and muttered their prayers, and I was struck by how I took my security from scientific principles and quality training and education rather than religion. Our flight flew by (no pun intended) and twenty-five minutes and some fantastic rugged mountainous scenery later, we had a hair-raising landing on a gravel airstrip in Bamiyan. A Japanese woman in the back of the plane yelled out in fright and Tariq’s eyes bugged out. I was having so much fun enjoying the fright of other people (sadist that I am), that I didn’t have time to think about being afraid myself. Our first impression of the place was WOW. We drank in the fresh air and gazed mesmerized at the orange-red sandstone cliffs speckled with caves and the two enormous carven caverns where the Buddhist statues were once enthroned – that is, before the Taliban blew them up with dynamite in March of 2001 (much to the horror of the archeological and Buddhist communities). Waiting for us on the gravel tarmac was Dr. Nazir Qayoome, our guide and soon to be friend from the Agha Khan Foundation (website) Bamiyan Regional Office. He ushered us to our lodgings at the AKF Guest House, a delightful compound overflowing with apricot, apple and almond trees laden with half-ripe fruit. The compound was balanced between two fast-running rivers and a congregation of poplar trees and I enjoyed the soft, flowing duet of music for the entire time we were in Bamiyan. Another pleasant surprise was to meet a delegation of AREU (spell out and website) staff on research assignment in the area – a connection I hope to follow up on back in Kabul.

After freshening up, our first destination was the Dragon Valley with our driver Zabiullah (whom we dubbed “Zabi”) and our trusty guide Nazir. Zabi’s road-worn Surf climbed what we then thought to be an insane incline through mighty sandstone hills to a site where a deep fault line ran the length of a mountain ridge. The fault looks as if a dragon ran his claw across the mountain. In fact, the site is of great historical and religious importance, and I could see that Tariq was struck with the sacredness of the place (though this did not stop him from muscling up for the camera on the peak). On this site, an Islamic miracle occurred in the 600’s AD, when Ali the cousin of the Prophet Mohammed, fought and conquered a deadly dragon. As the legends go, Ali was as strong and heroic as Hercules in the Greek tradition or Goliath in the Jewish/Christian tradition. Ali is also an important figure, marking a divide in Islam between Sunni and Shia Muslims; while most southern Afghans are Sunni, the Hazara people of Bamiyan are largely Shia (followers of Ali) – the division between the sects (akin to the distinction between Protestants and Catholics in Christianity) had tragic expressions during the years of war. Standing on the rocks, I desperately wished that I had some basic petrology or even better, a petrologist or geologist companion on hand. Luckily, the trusty internet was able to inform me (via a University of Colorado journal article) that Bamiyan is located on the Herat fault, a 1200-km-long, east-west suture through central Afghanistan, in early days a very active seismic zone. I haven’t been able to find out much about the petrology of the site – I challenge any readers to find some information and let me know! There was an outflow of crystallized white mineral on the peak, and pools of glistening ruby red and white minerals on the ridge, in which a sour-salty water gurgled like a tiny spring. Nazir pointed out, with a wink, that this was dragon blood and dragon’s tears, and two outcroppings were the dragon’s eyes. As we moved back to Zabi’s Surf, we saw an old turbaned man on an ancient-looking flat-tread bicycle calmly cycling up the almost 90 degree hill. He looked around at the top (where we were), and then just as calmly began cycling down through the desert scene, a tiny speck on a vast canvas. I watched him spin towards a series of mud houses, most of which were decked with satellite dishes, stark, orderly horizontal etches against rugged peaks: a deep impression of awe that I will never forget. This old man in this quiet, windy place was more extreme than anyone I had ever seen. I thought of the expensive mountain bike I once owned as a teenager in Kelowna and barely used beyond the smooth asphalt of the city.