The Puppetmasters (49 page)

Kendall was amazed at the huts. “What are those houses?”

“It’s called a
kherga
in Afghanistan. I think you know them as
yurts.”

“Oh, I’ve heard of those. How did they get them so round?”

“They use steam to bend the wood into sort of a crown, and then put up ribs of bent wood around the structure.”

“But how does the roof stay up?”

“There is a tension band stretched from the roof to the walls. That keeps the walls in place. The last step is a cover around the structure, providing insulation and keeping the elements out.”

“Are they mobile?”

“Yes. They can easily be taken down and moved to a new location.”

“Are these people more
Kuchi
nomads?”

“Nope. It looks like they are
Kyrgyz
nomads.”

“Wow! How can you tell the difference between this group and the
Kuchi
nomads?”

“I know that
Kyrgyz
nomads live in the northern regions up high, and they live in yurts. This tribe is a little different, though.”

“How?”

“Most of the
Kyrgyz
tribes live and move around in the far north of Afghanistan in the Pamir mountain range. I think there’s snow there most of the year. This tribe must be here because they’re looking for better pasture and meadows. When you find them this far west, they were usually forced to seek better living grounds. It could be their stock did not do so well during the last winter.”

“How long will they stay here?”

“They move three to four times a year.”

“How do they make money? They must need wheat or some sort of flour for baking.”

“They make their living from trading their livestock with various traveling merchants. All the basic things like salt, sugar, flour, and medicines are bought with the money they bring in from their animals.”

Kendall was impressed with the active life teeming all around the meadow. Children were helping the men with the animals, the women with the cooking and sewing. But the scene before her was noticeably out of touch with time. She shook her head. “They don’t have electricity, do they?”

“No, they don’t.”

“I can’t imagine living like this. How do the children survive to adulthood?”

Rashid looked grim. “Most don’t. Half of them die at birth. And while most of the adults look weathered and old, almost all of them are barely forty. Most don’t live past the age of forty. It’s a difficult life, Kendall.”

“I don’t see why they’d want to live up here when they could move to the lowlands like Bamiyan, and live like Jangi? They could have both livestock and a crop or two.”

“They are living a traditional life mostly untouched by time. They are a proud people and choose to live that way. I heard a story about a doctor who came across a
Kyrgyz
tribe. The doctor offered to vaccinate the children, but the adults were wary. Finally, they agreed that if the doctor paid each family, they would comply. The doctor went away without inoculating the children.”

“That’s very sad. It seems so lonely and isolated up here.”

“It is! This place is pretty much at the top of the world. In fact, we couldn’t travel this route if it was any other time of the year. One month either way, and we’d see snow. We are so fortunate that it’s summer.”

“Maybe, but this hasn’t exactly been a vacation. I feel like it’s been one long trauma for months. Geez! I’m living under constant stress.”

“Calm down! Just be glad you don’t have to live like these people. We are only a day out of Mazar-e-Sharif. We’ll be there and will make our connections and escape to safety.”

“Hey, I’m entitled to be angry at being forcibly taken to Afghanistan where I watched people murdered or could hear them being tortured every night!” And
then dripping with sarcasm, she added, “Though the past few months has done wonders to enrich my cultural experience!”

Rashid was patient with her fit of temper and quietly responded, “And on behalf of my country, I apologize. But please don’t blame me. I’m doing all I can to keep you alive. We’re almost there. We could be free in three days.” He paused and then continued in a grave tone, “One more thing, Kendall. You may have lost your freedom for a few months, but I’ve lost my country. I lost my family when I was young, and now my way of life has been completely altered. I’m being blamed for things I didn’t do, and people want me dead. If I actually survive, I’ll be forced to assume a new identity and live in a foreign country. These are not things I would have wished for.”

He let her stew a few minutes longer and then got out his binoculars to give the tribe a once-over from afar to gauge its temperament. After a few minutes, Kendall visibly relaxed and was mortified at her outburst. She knew that Rashid hadn’t deserved her anger. She was just projecting her frustration onto him, because he was the closest target … hell, the only target. She asked to use the binoculars too. Peering intently at the busy activity in the meadow, she said, “Are we going to pass them by or stop?”

“Well, they look friendly enough. We could use some bread or flour. We have lots of leopard meat and the hide. We can trade a lot for that hide.”

They made their way across the meadow and encountered a very surprised tribe of people who could not fathom why a young couple and a camel would be traveling across the high mountain range. It looked like it was going to be awkward at first, as the men of the tribe gathered around them. But one of them spied the leopard pelt drying on Babar’s right side and exclaimed at how beautiful it was and rare to even see a snow leopard let alone get close enough to kill it. Rashid decided it would be prudent to share the meat. But first, one of the young boys who was comfortable around camels unloaded Babar and led him over to the other camels.

Rashid offered dried meat and fish to the elders. That broke the ice. The
Kyrgyz
people were about to start their evening meal. With the unexpected guests, the evening was turned into a festivity of sorts. Many dishes suddenly appeared before the weary travelers, including the leopard and carp. The entire camp sat on the floor inside the largest
yurt,
with the elders sitting closest to the fire. Kendall was able to stay near Rashid.

The tribe’s people wanted to know where they came from. Rashid detested telling lies. He spoke of his long-deceased family as if they had recently passed. He talked about having lived on a farm. Kendall then noticed he incorporated some of Jangi’s farm details into his story.

She would be glad when they were no longer the object of curiosity and she would have the comfort of knowing she was in a safe environment. Even
now, as she looked around her, she caught the eye of a wizened old woman. The elder practically gave her the “evil eye.” Her piercing look felt like daggers in Kendall’s heart. She wanted to run away. At the very least, she didn’t want to stay. She actually felt like her life might be in danger from this old, frail woman if she stayed the night.

The children wanted to hear the story of how they acquired the leopard. Rashid was a natural with children. He made the unusual encounter into a thrilling story. While their little eyes were round with amazement at what Kendall had done, they giggled and laughed at the image of Babar running past him when he was otherwise disposed.

Everyone exclaimed at how delicious the leopard meat was and beamed at Rashid. The two travelers could not get enough of the fresh warm flat bread. They immediately made a trade for enough
naan
to last them the rest of the way to Mazar-e-Sharif in exchange for their dried fish and some salt.

When Rashid suggested that he needed to set up his tent, there was a murmur among the tribe. The elders confabbed, and Rashid thought they were discussing the best place for his tent. After some time, the elders nodded in agreement, and one went to Rashid and motioned for him to follow.

The
yurts
were laid out in a pattern at fairly close proximity to the next. There was a yurt a little further away from the rest, almost as if the residents were being shunned. The placement was by design. The elder explained that the young couple who had lived in that yurt were recently deceased. The yurt was being cleansed of all evil before another tribesman took possession of it. Because Rashid and Kendall were not part of their tribe, they were assured that any existing evil would not be extended to them. Kendall demanded to know what the story was behind the deceased couple.

Rashid politely asked for the facts about the young couple and then relayed it to Kendall. The young wife had given birth to a daughter. The husband was headstrong and insisted all the way through the pregnancy that she would have a son. He apparently believed that by proclaiming the baby to be a son, it would, in fact, be one. When the daughter was born, the husband was so angry, that he killed his wife and newborn daughter. The tribal elders met and realized that if their tribe were to survive, this behavior would not be allowed. The husband, now a widower, was told he would either be banned and must immediately leave the tribe, or he should restore honor to his household by ending his own life. He chose the latter, and slit his own throat.

Rashid asked Kendall if she was concerned at sleeping in the abandoned
yurt,
given the circumstances. “Not at all,” she said. If it meant they didn’t have to set up the tent and basically had protection from the elements, she was fine with it. But she did express concern about the old woman with the piercing eyes.

Rashid laughed and told her the woman was telling everyone that this young traveling couple hadn’t borne children because they were living a carefree existence and hadn’t cemented any roots yet. She had several suggestions of various tribal remedies, and Kendall just rolled her eyes at Rashid. He didn’t dare tell her the old woman laid the entire blame for not having any children directly at Kendall’s feet. Her spirit was apparently too independent.

In the morning they said their goodbyes and once again headed north. There were several well-worn trails leading to the nearest city on the way to Mazar-e-Sharif. Rashid was thankful the elders had pointed them out, as he intended to avoid them. There was one trail in particular that they were advised at the last minute to avoid. It was treacherous and rocky, but almost entirely within the tree line. Naturally, that was the trail Rashid chose.

The elder he was speaking with had already realized that Kendall was not just foreign, but probably from the West. He decided to be prudent and keep this information to himself. No reason to alarm the tribe or cause speculation and gossip. He even doubted the young couple was married. In fact, they almost seemed to be on the run. The elder was curious but had seen it many times with people who had wandered into his camp. He could tell the travelers looked down on his nomadic lifestyle, just like Kendall did. But he could see misery, worry, and conflict in the travelers’ faces. Just who was the unfortunate one here, he thought? He offered a prayer for his noble and hard-working tribe and was thankful for the tribe’s simple, traditional ways.

As Rashid and Kendall prepared to head out, the elder grabbed Rashid’s hand in a final brotherly way, knowing he would never see him again. As he gazed into Rashid’s eyes, the latter knew immediately that this wise old man had not been fooled. But the old man saw goodness in the young couple, and believed they were not bad people. There must be a good reason for their being on the run, he told himself. It wasn’t his business to inquire further. That’s when Rashid was quietly advised of the alternate trail. With that final benevolent and compassionate gesture, Rashid unfastened the spotted leopard hide and presented it to the elder as a token of respect. The old man was sad to send these two young people off into the wilderness. They would’ve made fine additions to his tribe.

Kendall, Rashid, and Babar trudged along the difficult terrain for hours with barely a stop for some water and food. Now that Kendall knew she was within a day of Mazar-e-Sharif, she kept pushing them onwards. They were finally forced to stop when she twisted her ankle. It was clear they needed a long break.

The only blessing about the treacherous path they chose was that it paralleled a river. As Kendall, with her shoes and socks off, sat on a rock at the edge of the river soaking her aching feet and painful ankle, she noticed all the fish and pointed excitedly, “Look, Rashid. There’s tons of fish. What are they?”

He peered into the river and said, “That’s brown trout. They live in the alpine region waterways. They’re really good eating. Do you mind if I catch a few, so we can have fresh fish tonight?”

“No. Good idea.”

She watched as he made a makeshift net out of material and a small sturdy piece of wood. He caught two fish on the first scoop. He dipped his improvised net one more time. As Kendall watched him skillfully gut and clean the fish, she was already salivating at the prospect of fresh fish for the evening meal. She was so tired of the dried fruit and dried fish and meat. Anything fresh was of great relief.

They packed up their belongings once again and set off on the nasty trail. This time they moved at a slower pace. The path seemed to get even more difficult. Kendall was about to grumble at the horrible choice Rashid had picked. She knew the elder had pointed out several more passable trails and was thoroughly irritated that Rashid chose this nasty, rocky terrain. Much of the time they were single file, with Rashid in front and Babar in the middle. She was tired of looking at Babar’s ass all day. The way he walked, by swinging from side to side, made her dizzy if she focused too much. She decided to be prudent and concentrate on her feet for a while.

Suddenly they heard a whirring close by. Rashid pulled them all under a thick pine tree and they waited. Babar was not happy at being pushed against a tree trunk, with Kendall and Rashid pressed against his neck. A helicopter was flying overhead, but a little to the east. The fleeing pair stood little chance of being seen, so long as they were quiet and stayed put. Rashid was worried about Babar’s twenty-inch tail. It kept flicking from side to side.