First time in Muzaffarabad
The city needs to be promoted as a location that offers
scenic views as well as good infrastructure
By Zeeshan Suhail
After my recent and first visit to Muzaffarabad, I have arrived at the conclusion that the best-kept secrets are those that are seldom talked about. How often does one hear about Azad Kashmiri politics? Or the rivers that originate from the region? Or best of all, the great roads! I rest my case.

"Coffee please"

"No coffee this morning."

"Okay bring tea with toast and an egg."

"No egg. Jam?"

The scene a brand spanking new, middle of the budget guest house in Lahore, and coming right on the heels of having flushed the toilet only to flood the bath with sewage, not a pretty sight by candlelight as the power, inevitably off, was enough to make anyone scream and even the most diehard of tourists run away as far and as fast humanly possibly. But, outside was just as bad with taxi drivers ready to fleece you, grubby children to pull on your clothes demanding cash, others waiting to pick your pocket if possible and everywhere, if you happen to be female, thousands of male eyes undressing your every move.

From the Arabian Sea in the south to the Khunjerab Pass in the north Pakistan, is not what certain governmental departments would have the world believe. It is definitely not for general tourists, and the ludicrous idea which circulates from time to time of advertising ‘The Land of the Pure’ as an international tourist haven, is nothing but pie in the sky hogwash.

Yes. This gloriously diverse country of approximately 888,000 square kilometres has everything a tourist could dream of in the form of scenery: a southern coastline of almost 1,000 kilometres long, vast deserts, luxuriant plains, spectacular mountains and upland valleys, and one of the four riverine cradles of early civilisation — the Indus, along with numberless sites of historical interest which are mostly in exceedingly bad repair. What we don’t have though are the types of either a suitable — make that reliable — infrastructure on which tourists following tight schedules inevitably depend on; taking in the sights unmolested, walking where they will, dressing as they are comfortable with and, even more problematic, the ability to communicate on the level they are ultimately paying for let alone the forms of nightlife some of them expect. This is not to say we should ape the money-minting tourist destinations of the Mediterranean region for example. Far from it, as Pakistan does have its own mystique to offer if we can ever get our heads together to package this on a commercially viable plate without everything sliding off into oblivion at the first hurdle.

Catering for adventure tourists, those wanting to head off to mountaineer, hike, track wildlife, survey wild flowers or even go fishing has in the past been undertaken on a very small scale as have historical tours. But there is not much filthy lucre to be extracted from the class of tourist who either has generally paid well in advance for transport, accommodation and food, with just enough spare cash left over to purchase a few tawdry souvenirs or backpack travellers with no fixed destination or agenda, who risk life and limb leaping on and off public transport hauling their worldly goods along in backpacks. They are highly unlikely to inject any visible amount of cash in to the local, let alone national economy.

With Pakistan being the subject of those infamous ‘travel advisories’ almost the entire world over, with the once upon a time popular tourist destinations of Swat, the entire North Western Frontier plus Balochistan well and truly off the agenda for indigenous let alone foreign tourists, what on earth does the country have to lure intrepid travellers with? It’s no use flying of the handle to say, "What about India? How can they attract tourists by the score?" Our neighbour apparently knows the rules and plays the game far better than us.

Despite all of the above though, some of the foreign tourists who do reach Pakistan and survive to tell the tale, actually relish the experience — it is certainly very different from the countries they call home and are keen to return to further expand their horizons. So, if the monetary grail of tourism is ever to have a chance of getting off the ground here, surely we should ask those who have been and gone to help us locate the invisible key.

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Our own mystique.

They say getting there is half the fun, I prefer the other half. Evening had set in when we reached Dhir Kot, a tehsil in District Bagh of Azad Jammu and Kashmir. It took five hours from Islamabad to reach there. The good thing is that the public van, that runs from Islamabad to Dhir Kot, drops you right at the foot of the Forest Department's rest house, a true retreat.

The Forest Department's rest house reminded me of the dak bungla in old films with a staircase in the centre of the bungalow leading to a wooden balcony in front of the house and a slanting red and green roof above it. Comfortable cane chairs and table laid in the terrace for tea made a perfect setting to relax.

The rest house stands on a clearing in the pine forest with pine trees all around. It was July and it rained almost every night but never for long. When the night would be dry, the sky was worth watching. Nowhere have I seen more beautiful starry nights.

Come morning, girls and boys in school uniform are seen passing by the rest house. They go to school even when it's raining. Some have umbrella, others don't, walking fast to their centres of learning. Among the early goers is a tall, slim, college girl in black burqa carrying a stunningly beautiful three-year-old child dressed in black and white pant shirt. The little girl does not talk to strangers.

This is Noorushimaan which means 'Faith is her like'. Conceived around the massive earthquake that hit Kashmir in October 2005, she is a symbol of faith and hope. Noorushimaan accompanies her sister to college every day. Her sister is a first year student who walks ninety minutes to reach her college and takes about as much time back home in the evening. All the children and young people attend schools and colleges here. This is truly heartening.

At present there is massive unemployment in Dhir Kot. Still you will not find a beggar there and there is no crime. The rest house remains open throughout the day virtually with no fear of anyone walking in. There is no Talibanisation, no radicalisation. The people here do not try to fleece, harass or mislead tourists. They speak only when they are spoken to, are courteous and hospitable beyond explanation.

The housekeeper at the rest house is amazing too. How he juggles with so many people's demands, is hard to make out. Children happily eat whatever he makes. The first day he asked me what would we like to have in the breakfast and I said kulcha. The kulchas when they came to the table, were the size of biscuits. That is kulcha of Kashmir. Luckily, the children liked the taste and wanted them every day at breakfast with tea.

Bagh District is known for fruits but this year their apricots and pears were destroyed due to early snow. Otherwise, everything is available and the prices are the same as in big cities of Pakistan.

To the left of the rest house is a stream and a path which leads up to the mountains where there is a forest of deodar but much before that there comes a tree people call the 'Mother tree'. There is no signboard to guide people but you instantly know which one it is the moment your eyes meet it. Its 300 years old and may be 300 feet tall. It fills one with awe.

Further up is the deodar Forest one would think nobody treads. There are no insects or anything dangerous in the woods. I was barefoot because I had forgotten to keep my joggers and the sandals refused to take me far. After an hour's walk we came to a clearing with jungle all around. We had taken food and drinks with us so we had a picnic there. A group of women were out collecting wood for fuel. They guided us to take a different path which might have been short but full of surprises - grooves and moss. The children loved the way back very much. They would run into the most unlikely places where adults won't dare to tread but it was fun throughout.

Pakistanis who do not know about many places in Azad Kashmir, are aware of Neela Butt as the place where first, the Mujahid-e-Awwal (Sardar Abdul Qayyum Khan) fired his famous shot to launch a campaign that eventually freed what is now Azad Kashmir, and later 'Farzand-e-Kashmir' (Muhammad Nawaz Sharif) made the announcement that Pakistan actually had a nuclear weapon capability, thereby abandoning the country's traditional 'strategic ambiguity'. Nobody I talked to expressed any pride or joy for either. Instead, the only pride and joy they expressed was on account of guests — a disarming if not entirely sincere compliment.

You can get an overview of Islamabad and Abbottabad from Neela Butt. Public vans and taxis are always there. It's half an hour drive from Dhir Kot.

Bagh district was the hardest hit in the 2005 earthquake. There is construction work still going on at Dhir Kot. Roads, schools, hospital and basic health unit are under construction. A school opened on July 24 while we were there.

There is no lady doctor at Dhir Kot. There are many girls who are trained nurses from this area but they are posted elsewhere. New hospitals are being constructed and there is hope they will be posted here. Reconstruction will take another 2-3 years, says Prof. Mumtaz, Principal of Dhir Kot College for Boys.

There is no concept of fans and there is no need either. Power supply is cut off for only two hours in a day. The Azad Jammu and Kashmir's (AJK) prime minister recently said 14000-mega watt hydro electricity can be produced in AJK while the AJK needs only 400 MW. Can Pakistan buy electricity from them?

After my recent and first visit to Muzaffarabad, I have arrived at the conclusion that the best-kept secrets are those that are seldom talked about. How often does one hear about Azad Kashmiri politics? Or the rivers that originate from the region? Or best of all, the great roads! I rest my case.

My visit was a result of some business my father had but I tagged along since I was interested in Muzaffarabad’s post-earthquake development and reconstruction. Of course, there is much more to the city than just this one chapter of its centuries of existence but it happens to be the chapter that will stand out most if one studies Azad Kashmir history. The region was hit strongly by the October 8, 2005 earthquake that took nearly 80,000 lives and destroyed much of the infrastructure that supported daily life (roads, bridges, buildings).

My journey to Muzaffarabad was only three hours long. The weather steadily improved as we gained altitude, and surprisingly enough, so did the quality of the roads! Not only was the drive smooth, but the roads were also multi-laned and the drivers quite civilised. Was it the fresh air?

The only way we knew we had entered Azad Jammu and Kashmir (AJK) was when we crossed a bridge spanning the fast and furious River Neelam, under which was a restaurant with people bathing their feet in the nearly freezing water. A short distance ahead, I encountered the first of many bridges that consisted of wooden planks. I was scared of walking on it, let alone seeing cars make their way across!

Upon entering Muzaffarabad, what struck me most was the geographical setting. It’s a small city with a population of less than half a million, with most homes on the surrounding hills. At night, they would look like stars resting after spending hours twinkling in the night sky. My view from the hotel I was staying at, PC Muzaffarabad, provided a splendid view of the city’s landscape.

My next day’s activity considered entirely of a trip to a lake that was formed as a result of the landslides that took place in the aftermath of the October 2005 earthquake. Locals told me that the lake, which currently stretches three or four kilometres, was originally just a small pond, but with time, the rains and melting snow of nearby mountains caused the lake to swell. The body of water is so large now that authorities have christened the lake as "Lake Zalzal". It’s a beautiful green/blue colour that’s refreshing after seeing the dull green and brown hills and mountains en route to Zalzal.

While I did aptly play the role of the accidental tourist, I was in an awkward bind: do I smile a broad smile in my photos with the lake in the background? Or do I remain sombre, respecting the memories of those who have passed away? I chose the latter. It wasn’t a difficult decision; conversations with families who had homes overlooking the lake told me about their loved ones whose lives were lost. One girl lost a brother another boy lost his mother. One family had land that was adjacent to the erstwhile stream, now inundated with water. A few villages had also been buried, killing people instantaneously.

I wondered what the tourists boating in the pristine waters must have felt as they rowed their boats across the silent water. Did they know of the hundreds of dead bodies that lay hundreds of feet beneath them? I also pondered over the challenges the Pakistan Tourism Development Corporation (PTDC) must be facing as they devise a strategy to not only bring tourists to the venue (the roads and directions are poor), but also remind them about the history of the location.

I only spent a few minutes at the lake, which was a fraction of the time it took me to get there (nearly 3 hours!). On the journey back, I passed a point called "domail" where the rivers Neelam and Jhelum meet. What a sight to behold! And how befitting to name the bridge that is situated at that point as "Quaid-e-Azam bridge".

The best part about Muzaffarabad’s geography was that everything was less than a 10-minute drive away from the central most location. The city had all the basic necessities and amenities that would ensure a decent living standard. What surprised me a lot, though, was the lack of security at many locations. For example, the President and Prime Minister’s residences were in an enclosure that was guarded by one checkpoint where only two police officers were stationed. What a welcome change from Islamabad! I imagine those poor fellows rarely faced a credible security threat.

One of the tour guides accompanying us on the trip pointed to vast swaths of land on several hills and told us that these were areas affected by the earthquake. It was astounding to see how the city had virtually reconstructed itself in a matter of years. Muzaffarabad is a great example of how partnerships with international organisations can result in sustainable development for large populations of people. The Turkish government was responsible for the rehabilitation of several buildings near the President and Prime Minister houses, while the Chinese government was reconstructing damaged roads throughout the region.

I returned to Lahore with a better sense of the culture and traditions of the region, but more importantly, a sense of the resilience and strength of the people living there. Not only is living in a mountainous region a difficulty in itself, but compound that with the politics of being close neighbours with archrival India and the aftermath of the 2005 earthquake. My heart goes out to the people of AJK. They need our support as they continue to recover from their trials and tribulations, and what better way than to visit them and support the local economy.

Muzaffarabad needs to be promoted as a location that offers scenic views as well as good infrastructure to enjoy the locale. I hope this well kept secret remains a secret no more.

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The pristine waters of Lake Zalzal.