Stars over the Suleiman Range

Rina Saeed Khan

Publishing Date: Thursday, June 14 2007

Rina Saeed Khan Which place in Pakistan do you think is the most beautiful? I am asked whenever I return from one of my travels into the remote hinter-lands of Pakistan. I really can't say for sure - the mountains, the deserts, even the river plains have their own unique charm. At the World Wildlife Fund (WWF) office in Lahore, they have a mantra which I shall repeat: Pakistan has the greatest change in elevation within any sovereign state on earth - from sea level on Sonmiani Bay to 8,611m, which is the summit of K-2, the second highest mountain in the world. The dramatic changes in altitude means Pakistan has extremely diverse physical environments home to unique wildlife and indigenous peoples.

In an increasingly globalised world, in which sprawling mega cities with big corporations are homogenising our lives, it is so revitalising to come across people who actually live in rhythm with nature, just like our ancestors once did. And although their lives are certainly difficult - the concept of the "noble savage" is a myth - I am constantly overawed at their existence so close to the natural environment. It is this very diversity that environmentalists all over the world are trying to conserve. The world would he a poorer place without it.

My work as a consultant in the environmental field takes me all over Pakistan, and I have realised that my own search is indeed endless and my adventures so memorable that I feel they should now be shared. To this I owe Samiya Mumtaz, whom I have never met, but whose down to earth columns in The Friday Times have inspired me to write of my own experiences.

I'm not sure where to begin, so let's start with my most recent expedition - this time to the Suleiman Range on the border between Balochistan and the NWFP. The Suleiman range is an extension of the Hindukush Mountains into Balochistan. The steep mountainous terrain, the hot and dry summers and the cold winters all combine to provide for the world's largest pure stands of chilghoza. I had never even seen a chilghoza tree before in my life, so I was quite excited to find myself in a jeep on my way to Zhob district from Dera Ismail Khan.

Proud Kuchi with his Flock

I was travelling with a driver and a local Shirani tribesman (the Pashtun Shirani tribe lives in this area, on both sides of the provincial border). He was to be my guide for we were crossing into tribal areas where the government's writ does not hold. I think the tribal areas needlessly get a bad rep in this country - I personally have never met such hospitable and considerate people as those who inhabit these supposedly wild regions. But yes, feuds are commonplace and almost every man does carry a gun.

The drive through the Suleiman mountains kept me riveted to the car window with my camera. Unlike the tempestuous Himalayas, with their rolling boulders, seismic activity and constant landsliding, the Suleiman mountains are settled, older and haunting in their bare ruggedness.

Half-way through the four hour drive, we came across the Kuchis (Afghan nomads who seasonally migrate to Pakistan). There were hundredsof them camped near the dry river beds. They were wintering here in Pakistan, migrating down south as they have for centuries, their homes laden onto camels and trucks! Their women were colourfully attired with their silver jewellery and long, Pathani dresses, but kept away from the road. The men were striking - tall, muscular physiques, wearing enormous black turbans and weather-beaten faces full of character. "Will you send us the pictures?" they quipped, as I took photo after photo. They were shepherding their flocks of sheep on the road and walked with such pride and dignity that I wanted to stop and visit their colourful camps, but it was getting late and we had to reach Zhob before dark.

"They are being friendly with you, but otherwise they tend to keep to themselves and don't really like outsiders," my guide informed me, a little alarmed at the prospect of having to take me into one of their tents. He explained that the Kuchis ran a lucrative smuggling operation, trading in guns and armaments on both sides of the border. Still, how wonderful, that in the 21st century, these people can enjoy the freedom of a nomadic lifestyle in our corner of the world. They are a far cry from the despondent Romany people of Eastern Europe, who are marginalised and exploited and forced to settle in the slums of European cities. I am determined to learn more about the Kuchis, and in fact, the UNDP will soon be funding a project on protecting indigenous peoples like the Kuchis.

I arrived in Zhob, just as the sun was setting. I am sorry to report that I never really saw anything of this dusty little town, named Fort Sandeman by the British, since early next morning we returned deep to the Suleiman Range where WWF-Pakistan has a small field camp. What I did see at night was the Milky Way! Yes, overhead as we sat in the garden of the WWF office where I was staying, the electricity went off and I looked above and was stunned. I had forgotten what stars look like in smog covered Lahore - and in Zhob, they appear to be hovering just above you. My hosts, Bazmir Khan and Imran Khan, who both work for WWF, left me in my quiet reverie, looking up at the stars . . . thinking of my favourite saying: "Ideals are like stars - we may never reach them, but like the ancient mariners, we can chart our course by them".

Hosts Bazmir Khan, Yar Muhammad and Imran Khan

The next day was uneventful, as Bazmir Khan made plans for an expedition up the mountains to see the chilghoza trees. These chilghoza forests are very important for the local economy since the chilghoza nuts can fetch good prices in the market; the growing demand for chilghoza nuts in places like Dubai, Muscat, Jeddah, London and even Jerusalem means high prices for the nuts. In fact, I met some chilghoza merchants who were visiting from Dera Ismail Khan and they told me that the chilghoza nuts found in the Suleiman range are probably the tastiest in the world. WWF-Pakistan wants to cut out the middle-men and is hoping the merchants will buy directly from the local tribesmen so they can get better prices for their chilghozas.

We spent the night at the field office, which is merely a cluster of mud and thatch rooms with a protective stone wall and is perched on top of a ridge - below us were the agricultural fields owned by the local villagers. Nearby was a stream, flowing down from the mountains that encircle the valley. The green fields and the austere, blue grey mountains provided for a dramatic contrast as the sun set. The stone mountains looked forbidding and in retrospect, I should have paid more attention to Bazmir's queries on whether I would be able to climb with my joggers. I was told later that these are cruel mountains... I certainly found out the hard way. If you want to know what happened next, you'll have to wait for my next column!

Rina Saeed Khan is an environmentalist currently working as a consultant for UNDP-Pakistan