From Russia with love

A needle-sharp crispness slices through the atmosphere, cutting speech in half when I try to call in the dogs. An ice-white moon, half-swallowed by clouds, silhouettes the gliding swoop of Otis, the owl who has taken up his winter sojourn in the eaves of the woodshed.

Guided by the shimmer of crystal stars he is hunting invisible prey down through the shadows of the orchard in the susurrating spell of the forest. He will boomerang home in the morning when, I fully expect, there will be a glistening rime of ice on the water lily ponds and another sifting of snow on the high mountains majestically punctuating the sky-scape.

My home is on a different planet from bustling Murree where I went about chores earlier today, warmly wrapped against a bitingly frigid, skin-flaying wind, and enjoyed a rummage through the detritus of Europe and, surprisingly enough, of Central Asia too! The ‘stuff’ people discard serves as an indicator of their economic well-being or lack of it as the case may be: in previous years they cast off very expensive, extremely up-market sweaters, cardigans and scarves along with top-notch leather shoes and boots but, if the evidence is to be believed, the global economic downturn has caught up with them and their wardrobes are not being replenished as in days of yore. Instead of almost new, pure wool goodies the stores are heaped with worn out rags that few are interested in buying, no matter how low the going rate. Eternal optimist that I am, it does cross my mind that perhaps the ‘acceptable’ woolies have been directed towards desperate flood survivors leaving merely the dregs for others but, much as I would like to believe this is true, somehow I doubt it. The ponchos which graced the shoulders of Europe’s fashionable youngsters last year are here though- much-washed and misshapen mounds of acrylics, not the more expensive wool. But it is only women with young children who display an interest in these as our own chadors are superior in all respects.

The footwear too is largely worn out and of no good to anyone in the harsh winter climate of the hills where a decent pair of boots, with good grips, can mean the difference between a whole body and a broken one when ice and snow rule the roost.

The offerings from Central Asia are a different kettle of fish altogether: there are men’s and ladies’ leather jackets along with an interesting array of both pure and fake fur coats, none of which are actually new but some that, without microscopic examination, would pass for such. The question that comes to mind is: Are people in that cash-strapped part of the world having such a difficult time that they are, quite literally, selling the coats off their backs in order to make ends meet? And, if this is truly the case, how on earth are they keeping warm as this kind of heavy winter clothing is desperately needed there? Fur coats are not, for some unknown reason, prized by the residents of these hills. Some are purchased by tourists although what they do with them down in the plains of Pakistan where they are definitely not needed is quite beyond me. Maybe they cut them up and create stuffed toys out of the pieces or open them out to make rugs? In any case, they do buy them and pay way too much in the process!

The indigenous ‘tribes’ of this area stock up on second hand clothes and boots when stocks arrive in the market during late autumn. They live in their purchases all winter and dump them on the first day of real spring in readiness to splash out on ‘new’ the following season, but this cycle has been worryingly interrupted now as ready cash is increasingly scarce. People have to tighten their belts as the weeks roll by and the price of food and other essentials escalates. Not all of this is due to inflation of course, as profiteering is rampant too. As elsewhere in this land of greed and selfishness, most shopkeepers don’t think twice about ripping off their customers which, up here, mostly means relatives as entire villages are populated by extended families who have intermarried for generations.

Just this morning at a dry goods store I listened, in disgust, as a shopkeeper commiserated with a customer — who happened to be his nephew — on his recent loss of work. Then, quite slyly, after having counted out his change, he swiftly palmed a Rs50 note in the guise of altering the position of a tray of eggs. His nephew didn’t notice but I, trying to be a good citizen, quietly pointed out that Rs50 seemed to have fallen on the floor behind the counter at which point, with an audacious grin, he gave it back!

As hard times loom, theft has increased too: over the last three days there have been three such incidents that I know of. In the first a neighbour who habitually spreads her family wash over low lying bushes ‘lost’ four towels, two sweaters and a bed sheet. Three new shalwar kameez dupattas, beautifully stitched and embroidered for a family wedding by a daughter of the house, disappeared from the charpoy they had been arrayed on after ironing. The charpoy was next to an open window and, presumably, someone had reached in and grabbed them but who would do this on a quiet mountainside? The third theft was of three young goats, an extremely valuable commodity now, which were whisked away from the hillside where they were grazing but, this time, the culprits were spotted by school children who raised the alarm but the scoundrels escaped at high speed in a Suzuki pick-up before help  could arrive on the scene.

Incidents such as these threaten to destroy my faith in local humanity and it was in a rather downcast frame of mind that I traveled to Murree this morning as mentioned above where, I must admit, I ended up laughing in the street at the antics of a totally unexpected Father Christmas dancing and singing ‘Happy holidays’ in GPO Chowk as he mesmerised all who saw him into forgetting their worries and cares. His mischievous wink, prancing steps and flag waving as he hung on to a gaily decorated vanity case brightened up the world and, delightfully, he was simply having fun, not begging!

Published in The Express Tribune, November 28^th, 2010.