Trip to Muzaffarabad

Two months to the day after my arrival in Pakistan I finally reached Kashmir. Traveling in a Squirrel helicopter, the 40-minute flight took me to a very different world. It was pretty cool flying in this 5-seat, French-made machine and probably the person who enjoyed it the most was our young military escort that was imposed on us. It was cloudy and at times rainy day, but the views of the deep valleys and snow-topped mountains were still impressive. On a few occasions we hit a bit of turbulence at which point being in a small helicopter was not quite so cool.

Muzaffarabad is a large place and a hive of activity, as a number of NGOs are using it as their Kashmir base. I’m sure things have been cleaned-up a lot since the earthquake, but there was still plenty of evidence of what had happened. While many of the buildings in town are still standing some have collapsed, some are just a big pile of rubble, some have been abandoned and others look like they should be. Even the bedroom I had in the MSF rented house had a few interesting wall cracks. Tent communities were found wherever there was room for them and if you didn’t know better you might have thought that you had stumbled across a boy scout’s jamboree.

Like a good accountant I went directly to the MSF office and met with the other financial and administrative types. The office certainly had more of an outpost feel to it than the relative comfort that I have in Islamabad. As a non-smoker I was clearly in the minority; the great irony of working with this medical aid organization. That evening after dinner I retired to my room and accompanied by a small gas heater and a good sleeping bag I managed to stay warm. There wasn’t snow in Muzaffarabad, but it was just about cold enough and patches of snow could be seen in the hills above.

The next morning I accompanied Azizi on a visit to one of the tent communities that MSF was supporting. The purpose was to see what additional supplies were required now that the site had been tested by the first significant poor weather. It was cold, damp and muddy and it was clear that all would need more blankets, tarps and plastic sheeting. Azizi went from tent to tent to survey their situation and to hand out receipts that could later be exchanged for the allocated goods. There wasn’t much for people to do, but the women occupied themselves with cooking and cleaning and the children, being children, found ways to entertain themselves, adapting to their less than ideal circumstances. Everybody looked like they could use a good wash and a change of clothes.

Later that morning I had to return to Islamabad. Joining me on the flight was the same cheerful soldier and two MSF expats, starting their 3-day rest and relaxation (R&R) break in Islamabad. They were both looking forward to sleeping on a real bed, eating some different food, and having hot showers. One of them was Stephanie, a nurse from Vancouver, who I first met in October at the MSF orientation course in Germany. When her name was put forward to our office in November as a candidate for Pakistan I strongly endorsed her. I don’t think she’s mad at me now. I understandably don’t get these R&R breaks because of my comfortable life in the capital. However, proving that a change is as good as a rest my trip to Muzaffarabad also provided me with a source of rejuvenation. It was a short visit to Kashmir this time, but it won’t be my last.