Balochistan

---

*Please note that the names of those persons mentioned in this blog have been changed or omitted to protect their identities.

I last left you all in Kerman province of Iran, what now seems an enternity ago but was in reality only 5 days ago. From Kerman, I headed to Zahedan, the capital of Balochistan and the centre of the Baluch nationalist movement. The Baluch people want to seperate from Iran and Pakistan and form their own seperate country. Iran and Pakistan cannot permit this because both parts of Balochistan are incredibly rich in oil and gas. The Chinese know this and are now very active in Pakistani Balochistan.

In Zahedan, foreigners are technically required to have a police escort for their own protection to prevent kidnappings. I did not want such an escort as I had heard that the Iranian police were quite nasty and do not prove very good company. Consequently, I decided to book it to the border very discretely. Personally, I would rather have my life in my own hands than in the hands of some incompetent Iranian cop. I jumped in a taxi in Zahedan that I immediately did not get a good feel about. They guy wasn't an "official" taxi driver, which was nothing out of the ordinary for Iran, but he gave me the creeps. He asked me very directly if I was Sunni or Shia, automatically assuming I was a muslim. I pretended not to understand and then he left me sitting in his idling car for half an hour??? When I could not see him around, I jumped out, grabbed my bag and jumped into another taxi and told him to get me to the border, another 80 km away. He was a very nice man and proceeded to tell me that it would cost me $45 to the border (outrageous for Iran but I had heard that this is roughly what they charge). I managed to get him down to $25, but then he made me change cars to his brother's car and I saw him pay him $15. Nice little bit of commission I suppose...

Then we stopped to pick up a big bearded Pashtun man also heading for the border. Dressed in my Salwar Kameez, I don't think the local police seemed to pick up on the fact that I was a foreigner, and I managed to make it undetected to the border. With three kisses on the cheek from my taxi driver, I followed the stream of Pashtun and Hazara merchants into the border post, which of course was still closed at 7 AM. After two hours of waiting undisturbed (most people thinking that I was also Pakistani/Afghani), we headed in to the border post. The Iranian policeman who was in charge proceeded to shout at all of us in Farsi at the top of his voice. When a few people were not lining up orderly enough, he proceeded to run at them, kick them, push them, and punch them on the shoulder. I only got the punch on the shoulder and managed to avoid the kicks. But the unfortunate Hazara guy next to me did not and looked he was in quite a bit of pain afterwards. I guess the police have to get their kicks (no pun intended) somehow.

After the police officer had finished shouting at us, he proceeded to usher us forward where he stamped our passports with the exit stamps without so much as looking at the entry stamp to check whether we had overstayed our visas. Very glad now to get out of Iran after this, I walked out of the Iranian customs building into Pakistan. And what a difference...as someone put it to me the other day, as soon as you step out the door you think "I have arrived." The Iranian customs hall was a nice modern air-conditioned brick building. The Pakistani customs hall was a tin shed.

However, the Pakistani soldiers who were standing outside were very friendly, and once they realized that I was a foreigner, they welcomed me to Pakistan, directed me to the front of the line and straight through to immigration. After immigration, I had to sit and wait for a bit until another Balochistan Rifles soldier came and escorted me to the local jail/Balochistan Rifles headquarters. They told me that I needed a police escort with me as this was a very dangerous area. Al-Qaeda and the Taliban were operating here and it was for my own protection. Somewhat begrudgingly I acquiesced and we headed off to the bus station. Along the way, this big bearded Pashtun man walked past me and I heard him mutter under his breath to me, "die America die." Very nice. I told you it was better going it solo. Having an escort is like having a big sign on one's head saying "Hello! I am a foreigner! Please come and kidnap me or kill me please!"

Anyhow, I was stuck with my escort and he was a very nice chap. He got me my bus ticket to Quetta an on we got. Every so often the bus would stop at a checkpoint and I would have to get out and sign the book for the foreigners. It's how they keep track of us I guess in case we get kidnapped so they know where to look if we do not show up at the next check point. I think they must think that I have gone missing because as far as they know, I never showed up at my intended hotel in Quetta that night. More on that later.

At our stop for lunch, this Pashtun guy sitting beside me paid for me and insisted on buying me a drink. In the Pashtun moral code, Pashtun people are supposed to go as far as lay down their own life to protect the guest. I was ushered to the front of the bus to sit with him, which seemed to worry my police friend. Next to this Pashtun guy was a Baluchi clergy, who, I was told by this Hazara man further back was an extremist clergyman who preaches that if you kill a Hazara, you will go to paradise. Nevertheless, he was quite friendly and told me that we were friends etc.

I got chatting, however, more in depth with this Hazara man who spoke perfect English. He told me he was concerned that I was going home with the Pashtun man (I was not aware that I was) as the Pashtun are killing his people as they are Shia. I was told by the Imam of the Imam Mosque in Esfahan that Sunnis attack Shiism for idol worship. In Iran, if you go to Mashad, Qom, or Shiraz, you can visit Shrines of important figures in Shia islam which people flock to see from all over the Shia Muslim world. For sunni extremists, this is tantamount to the worship of the false wooden gods that used to be in the Kabala in Mecca before Mohammed destroyed them. Hence, some Sunni extremists preach that this idol worship must be punished by...death of course. They preach that if a Sunni man kills a Hazara (Farsi-speaking people from Afghanistan with Mongolian-like facial features), they will go to paradise. According to this Hazara man, both the Pashtun and the Baluchis were involved in killing his own people. He invited me back to his home. I was somewhat hesitant to accept his offer given the danger that that could put him in.

However, he was quite insistent so I said yes. He told me that as soon as we arrived in Quetta, as I looked like a Pashtun, I must not talk in English at all and just to follow him. So after our bus stopped (after 12 hours...awful road...temperatures pushing 50 degrees), we hopped into an autorickshaw and hurtled towards Hazara Town in Quetta, where all the Hazara refugee population lives. On the way, we were stopped by a policeman armed with an Ak-47 and we had to jump out of the rickshaw and produce our ID (except me - they told him that I was their guest and that I was from Iran). My friend told me that if you did not produce your ID, they would take you to the police station. In Quetta, there are bomb blasts and targeted killings on a daily basis. I guess it pays to be on the safe side.

We arrived in Hazara town after about 30 minutes and I must admit I was quite relieved to be in a safe house with a welcoming family. They plied me with Chai and to die for cooking and they had amazingly cute children. They told me how many of their friends had recently been killed. Two of their friends were picnicking in the Bolan Pass a few months ago when a guy came up behind them and shot them dead. As a result of such insecurity, many of the Hazaras are trying to get out of the country. Afghanistan, despite having an improved security situation of late, is not safe for the Hazaras as Sunni extremists there still hold significant power. Pakistan is not safe for the same reasons. Many Hazaras are leaving for Iran which provides for some security, but the Iranians are not all that welcoming to the Hazara refugee population it seems and distrust them. As a result, many of this family's friends and relatives were trying to get to Australia, Canada and Europe by illegal means. My friend knew at least three people who had recently gone by boat to Australia, risking their lives in the process.

This whole experience humbled me and made me realize that it is only a matter of chance that I am able to do what I am doing now. It also made me realize how badly we treat our guests in North America.

From Quetta, my friend and his friend made sure that I got on a train to Lahore yesterday morning (with the help of a police officer who sold black market tickets as the train was full). And after a 30 hour train journey with armed members of the Balochistan Rifles patrolling the corriders for the majority of the journey and the odd check for bombs, I arrived a few hours ago safely in the city of Lahore.

I think this computer has a virus and could have just infected my camera so I am not going to risk it again and plug it in. So you will just have to imagine all these things as no pictures will be uploaded. And I am tired and want to go eat some curry so am going to leave you.

---