DISPATCHES

Brady

Jimmy

	click for photos

Jimmy and I had planned on going up into the hills yesterday, but the American climbers Nils Davis and Todd Offenbacher showed up just as we were planning on leaving. We had lunch with them, the Canadian climber Sean Isaac, and their three friends. It was great to chat and share stories — they're a great group of people. One thing led to another and soon we were drinking whiskey over dinner. So we stayed in Hushe.

This morning Jimmy woke up sick, running a fever again. So we wouldn't be going up. Our guide, Zahid, informed me that the village of Kande had suffered another serious landslide. All the people we were going to hire as porters had gone to Kande to help out. I packed up my backpack, bought a bunch of cookies to give to the rescue workers, said goodbye to Jimmy, and headed south to Kande with Zahid.

We walked for two hours — the jeeps had already left. As we arrived, passing weeping women sitting on heaps of their belongings, I could see the dark brown water leaping among the boulders in the wash that separates the north and south ends of town. The Swiss G2 expedition was wandering about, annoyed that the bridge had been washed away, delaying their return. I took some pictures and then helped some of the villagers evacuate their homes. We carried logs, cookware, and old suitcases up to higher ground. Normally the Baltis are surprised to see Westerners perform any sort of common labor, but today they didn't even blink. They had more important things to worry about.

I saw several men jump across a section of water and run off towards the southern, larger end of town. The men were hoping to cross, perhaps to get back to their families. It seemed that they would have to take great risks to get across the flow. It also seemed like a great photo opportunity, so I followed.

The river is usually contained in a small flow within a huge wash. When the slide began, the flow increased and spread, splitting off and running this way and that. The flow was sporadic, increasing, decreasing, changing its course unpredictably. Walking across the wash, I came to the main flow after a minute or two. I looked up and saw that the flow was beginning to increase. For a moment my judgment prevailed, and I started to make a hasty retreat, but then several more men passed me going the other way. What an image, men leaping a flooding river to return to their families! So I went back.

When I reached the main flow a second time, I could see that it had dropped under the rocks in one section. The rocks were covered in mud, but for the moment the water was flowing underneath. The crossing was easy. I walked upstream to snap more pictures of the former location of the foot bridge. There was no sign of the bridge, the road, or any landmarks that I had seen just two days before. I watched small landslides on the banks of the wash. Most of the upper sections of Kande's irrigation canals were destroyed. Some of the painstakingly terraced fields were slowly being eaten away by the angry river. Suddenly, I heard some men shouting and saw them waving their arms at me. Since this wasn't a particularly unusual exchange for me to have with the Baltis, I didn't pay them much attention until I looked up and saw a surge of water engulfing the wash several hundred meters above. The men I had been standing near were now running full tilt for the bank. I chased after them, boulder hopping with my camera in my hand. Women shouted and wailed as we reached the shore. Moments after we arrived, the wave hit.

Over then next several hours, the flow continued to increase. The water turned down the main street of the village, flooding the K6 Hotel I had visited two days before. I managed to recover the hotel sign before the water washed it away. I wondered about the village, alternately taking pictures and rescuing items from partially flooded homes. I waded into one house, the water over my knees, recovered a picture frame and some soggy bedding and handed it to a distraught woman on the roof. Some houses were hopelessly lost. Since wood is so scarce, the villagers removed the window frames and doors of any house obviously doomed. Fully grown apricot trees were washed away. Fields of wheat and potatoes were destroyed. The ground shook with sharp rumbles as boulders tumbled invisibly beneath the rushing water.

There was a rumor that a woman was trapped on large island formed by the flow. Several men threw a ladder across a narrow section of river and one ran across. He returned 10 minutes later with the woman, but the water level had increased, making the crossing impossible. The ladder was lost during one attempt. The man and the woman retreated, forced to wait until the flow subsided.

Since the water flow had increased, there was no way for me to get back across to the north side of town. I was pretty sure that Zahid would be worried sick. I would have to bypass the village by heading to the next village down, crossing the huge Hushe River via a footbridge, and then heading north on the far bank. I caught a ride in a jeep making a water run for the village. The water supply had been ruined by the flooding. As I waited for the jeep to leave, another jeep arrived, carrying men who had been out of town for portering jobs. Women rushed to them, crying out and explaining what had happened. Some of the men broke down, others looked stoically towards the rushing water. My jeep left. It was full of water containers and young boys. They boys were in good spirits. We all grabbed at apricots as the jeep passed beneath the trees. I got off the jeep at the next village, crossed the bridge, and was back in Hushe in five hours.

The village of Kande was poor before the flood. Now, of course, things are much worse. Many people have lost their homes, their fields, or both. The winters here are harsh. Hopefully everyone in Kande will have enough time and outside support to prepare for the winter.

Jimmy and I plan to help by leaving any expedition food we have left and giving money to the villagers hardest hit. If you would like to help, please contact the Central Asia Institute (cai@gomontana.com, 406-586-8387) or send a tax deductible donation to: Central Asia Institute, 617 South 5th Ave, Bozeman, MT 59715. CAI, founded by Greg Mortenson (known universally as "Dr. Greg" in all of Baltistan), has projects throughout the northern areas of Pakistan, and elsewhere. They build schools, salary teachers, fund water supplies and sanitation projects, and promote women's issues, just to name a few. It is an excellent organization with a worthy mission. Any help you can offer would be greatly appreciated by many!

Jimmy Chin
During our stay in the Hushe Village, we have been spending time hanging out with Canadian climber Sean Isaac and U.S. climbers Nils Davis and Todd Offenbacher. Nils and Todd brought over an ample supply of libations which they kindly shared with the rest of us.

The three climbers have been here about a month and are staying another month. Sean, Nils and Todd tackled an unclimbed tower via a 2500 foot ridgeline. They named the tower after their cook, Ibrahim, and the route is called "Blue Sky". They simul-climbed most of the route, belaying more difficult pitches near the summit. From basecamp to basecamp, the climb took the trio 16 hours.

Sean, Nils, and Todd head up to the Nangmah Valley today.

— Brady Robinson and Jimmy Chin, MountainZone.com Correspondents

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