Tag-Archive for » Will Lowry «

The Fix
Thursday, July 23rd, 2009 / Murray
SANY0086

Fixing Betty

The day of jokes, horseplay, and smiles ended when the electricity was back on.  The wires were strung from the power lines and the tools were started up.  Before long the job was complete.  We walked around the car, inspecting it for one last time, and then had to say our goodbyes.  A few friendly shoves, jokes, and hugs were exchanged.  My new good buddy had been doing the welding and hurt his eye from a lack of eye protection.  I gave him my not-so-fancy sunglasses I had brought so in the future he would not be hurting himself.  He responded with a big hug, then another offer of opium.  A couple more offers, hugs, and we explained that we had to go.  They asked for us to join for one more cup of tea, but we were needing to get on the road immediately since we were overdue in registering at the police station in Khurog.  Again we were fugitives in a foreign land.

SANY0085

Running the wires to run the welder.

We pulled out two $10 bills and offered them up for payment.  They looked and started to comment.  I immediately thought, “here we go again—they’re going to want $200.”  I could not be more wrong.   He was saying that we paid too much.  This after a town brought us in, fed us three times, and spent all their  time with electricity for two days to work on our car and only our car.  These were good people and we were very fortunate to have been stranded with them.  If it was not for the car breaking down we would have driven through, waved, and gone on our merry way.  Instead we have priceless memories.

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Pamir B&B
Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009 / Murray
SANY0075

Sun going down in our new Pamir hometown.

Dinner finished with a pack of Oreos from the US, some English tea and a round of friendly embraces.  We walked back to the car to get ready for a night of sleeping in the car…again.  As we prepared we saw two young guys walking our way.  They were hesitant and whispering between the two of them.  It was a very uncomfortable situation.  These guys seemed to be up to something.  So we rushed, trying to get in the car as quickly as possible.

Before we made it in, they walked up and started to talk with us.  They asked where we were sleeping (in hand motions).  We pointed to the car.  They shook their heads.  They pointed to a house and waved us over.  They were inviting us to sleep at their home.  We were not sure at first if we should or not.  Will mentioned the idea that they might be leading us off into trouble.  Joe mentioned they might be leading us away from the car to take something from it.  Both were legitimate concerns.  Then they pointed to the tires and fuel cans on the roof.  They were telling us to put them inside the car.  Why would they tell us to put them away if they were wanting to take something from us or to harm us?  We felt more at ease, put it away, and followed them down a path to their home.

SANY0083

Home of our hosts for the night.

They lived in a traditional home for the area called a Chid.  The building is representative of the universe according to their religious and philosophical beliefs.  A great explanation of the symbolism in the house can be found at http://www.pamirs.org/pamiri%20house.htm.

We were welcomed into the house, where they immediately served us tea and prepared a meal of pasta, naan, candies, and vegetables.  Although we were still full from our earlier meal, we dug in.  This was wonderful.  From not eating at all to eating two full meals was a real treat.

The family was made up of their father (a truck driver who was gone for the evening), a mother who was in her late 30’s, two sons in their late teens, and a daughter who was PRIME age for young William.  With no electricity, the house was lit by a simple kerosene lantern.  This lantern was strategically placed on a table next to the chair.  In the chair sat the daughter, as if a display in a department store window.

Conversation started with ages, then immediately to “married?”  I pulled the same stunt as before, “I’m married, these guys are single…especially Will!”  They laughed and were quick to point out that the daughter was single as well.  Not a lot of conversation was had, but they were excellent hosts making sure we were well fed and cared for.

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Our host family...or was it Will's new family...

The large room was set up with three mats, blankets and pillows.  It felt great to sleep laying down and not in the seat of the car.  We immediately fell asleep and had a full night’s sleep.  We woke with the sun and some light stirring in the other room.  When we sat up the oldest son walked us outside to pour hot water for us to rinse our faces.

We returned to a table set with breakfast.  Naan, a bowl of what seemed to be tea mixed with a salty broth, and hot tea.  We finally convinced one of the boys to sit with us and eat, but the other family members only served us.  After some time we thanked our hosts and went to the car to give gifts to the family as a thank you.  The postcards, coins from our countries, Oreos and tea were warmly received.

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A New Day, A New Will
Wednesday, July 22nd, 2009 / Murray
Lower

After sleeping at a lower (but still high) altutude, Will's altitude sickness went away completely.

The next morning we were awoken by the sound of a cowbell as a woman grazed her cow near our car.  Will woke, got out of the car, and started to make tea.  He was back.  And feeling as good as new—except for the residual flu and sore butt from the shot.  I still felt like crap, but the relief of seeing Will up and around really lifted my spirits.  We took the time to make ourselves some noodles and tea, washed up, repacked the car (it was a wreck form the river-packing job), Joe and I compared foot injuries, and we headed down the road looking for our next welder.

We stopped a nice Lexus SUV as it drove by and asked how far until the next spot to buy fuel.  We were running very low and we had given our reserve tank to the people who had pulled us out of the river.  The first moment of asking was a little tense.  This was not an area where villagers would normally be able to afford a car, not to mention a Lexus SUV.  The guys in the car were in their late 20’s—a bit young to be business owners.  And we were hours from the next city.  It is safe to say these guys were likely in the “import/export” business.  This area is notorious for the opium trade.  We acted innocent enough and when they realized we just needed an answer as to how far the next fuel stop would be, they smiled, told us 20 km, and drove off.

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Final Descent
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

We were making great time until we reached the next high mountain pass.  At nearly 14,000 feet (4,300 meters) we heard a snap.  I pulled over and Joe took a look at the strap.  It had broken.  But fortunately it had broken in the direction away from the tire.

It wasn’t the most ideal of situations, but at least we could drive.  Yes, we would be putting horrible stress upon the car, but we had no other choice.  Staying at that altitude for Will would be a death warrant.  So I continued along the highway, trying to act even more gingerly since I knew the slightest error now would end the ride for good.

We began descending and finally began driving alongside a river.  That was the sign I was looking for.  To have the river flowing next to us meant that we had to be descending.  So we drove along the river for about an hour when Will nearly begged to stop.  He was exhausted and needed to stop—and so did I.  The effects of the altitude combined with the flu and food poisoning was making it very difficult for me to drive.  I no longer felt safe behind the wheel, so we pulled just off the road and fell immediately to sleep.

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Up, Up, and Away
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

We immediately headed out.  We had hours of driving, most of which would be along difficult roads at altitudes over 15,000 feet high.  Time was of the essence, so I took advantage of any drivable roadway I could.  There would be a stretch of road for about a half mile, followed by five or ten miles of cratered roads.

At one point I was driving along at a brisk 45 miles per hour (top speed on the “good” part of the roads) when a huge drop-off came out of nowhere.  We hit hard.  We got out to check the car and the weak part of the back left metal strap holding the wheel in place had bent again.  This time it was rubbing against the tire.  If we blew a tire our delay would be bad, so Joe and I braved the icy winds of the Pamirs in the dead of the night and hammered the strap back into place.  The hammering seemed to take forever with my weakened, flu-like state.  With the altitude and my illness, every swing of the hammer was a challenge.  But we got it, put the tire back on, and began to drive.

Like clockwork, as we would peak a hill the strap would bend back into the tire.  We realized that the welder had welded it too far back, which was adding stress to the strap and making it bend.  We had no choice but to bend it back, put the tire on, and go on until it would bend again.

Somewhere near the Najzatash-Pass (14,154 feet or 4314 meters high) the strap bent, but bent so far that the hammering was not working.  Just then a van drove over the ridge.  A couple men got out, pushed us out of the way, and pulled out a 5 foot crowbar.  They took turns in the freezing wind bending back the strap.  They bent it beyond the natural point, so it was poking out the other direction.  That was what we needed.  Or so we thought.

We thanked them, gave them a bottle of water (all they asked for) and some tea, then drove off into the night.  We were making good time.  Joe knocked out, but I had Will talking to me, which was a relief to have him holding real conversations—something I had not heard from him in two days.

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Hospital Bills
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

I waited an hour, making the biggest fuss I could to get a car, a doctor, anything.  Finally I hear Joe pull up in Betty.  We grabbed Will and took him to the car.  We rushed to META, where they took a quick glance at Will and said, “you have to go down the mountain.”  They felt because of Will’s severe condition, the chamber would only temporarily help and the only real fix was to get him to a lower altitude as soon as possible.

“Hurry along, but go back to the hospital and ask for aspirin,” they said.  They explained that the blood-thinning of the aspirin would help ease him back as we descended.  “And don’t let him sleep,” they shouted at the car as we drove off.

We returned to the hospital and I asked the nurse for aspirin.  She shook her head.  They had no aspirin.  They were a hospital and they had no aspirin.  The nurse then began to explain that the cost of the two shots.  About 40 cents total.  Because I didn’t have any of the local currency, I tried to pay with a US dollar bill.  She gave me the “what am I going to do with that?” look and shook her head.

I went to the car, grabbed a handful of tea bags, and walked back in.  I placed them in her hands, she gave them a look, and then nodded.  Deal.  Two mystery pills and two mystery shots in the ass for a handful of tea bags from our sponsor.  That is a good deal indeed.

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Ambulance Service
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

About an hour went by and the nurse woke me.  She asked how I was doing and I said I was feeling a little better.  Then she motioned to Will.  I tried to wake him to find out how he was doing.  “Will, are you better, worse, or the same?”  No response.  “WILL—LOOK AT ME BUDDY!”  His eyes opened.  “ARE YOU BETTER, WORSE, OR THE SAME?”  His eyes closed.  I became very worried at this point.

“META” I began insisting, “META.”  The nurse shrugged her shoulders.  “Mohammed Ali,” I said.  She came back with Ali.  I explained that Will needed to get to META immediately.  “Are you going to still stay at our house tonight?” Ali asked.  “I don’t know.  I don’t care.  Yes.  Just find a way to get Will to META!”  Joe had not returned from the welder and I was at the mercy of a guy who was more interested in renting a room for the evening than Will’s wellbeing.

“Bring the ambulance” I insisted.  “The ambulance has already moved to the next town,” he answered.  Apparently the ambulance spends only a short period of time in each city.  “Find me a car,” I told him.  “It will cost money to drive,” he said.  “I don’t care, we have to go now!”  “Ok, I will get a car, but it will take an hour.”  How can it take an hour to get a car?  I don’t like this at all.

Ali walked off to arrange the mystery hour car and I asked the nurse to get the doctor.  She nodded, but just sat there.  “Doctor, doctor,” I said.  She pointed to her watch.  He would be back in half an hour.  In the mean time Will is becoming less and less responsive.

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Hospital Food
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

Hours went by and the doctor returned, but this time with another doctor and a translator—a kid named Mohamed Ali.  Mohamed began to relay the assessments from the doctors.  Doctor #1 said we needed to drive on to the next city as soon as we began feeling better.  Doctor #2 said we needed to stay a few days in Murgab and drink plenty of hot water.  Doctor #2 also added that he had a guest house where we could stay and he could care for us.  This sounded like a nice option, but a little fishy.  I told Ali that we would wait for our friend to return, then decide then.

Will and I continued to rest.  The nurse brought out a cloth with a large piece of bread in it.  She poured some tea and had Will and I sit and eat with her.  It was very sweet of her to share her lunch and although we were unable to speak with each other, it was a very pleasant moment.

After the tea and water I had to pee desperately.  I asked and she said she would have to check with the doctor first.  I begged and she finally got the ok.

“Where is the toilet?”  I asked.  She pointed outside.  I walked to the front steps where I found Ali.  I asked him, and he directed me to the right structure.  Yes, structure.  It was an outhouse about 100 yards away.  As I was walking to it I noticed rusty surgical blades in the gravel.  When I arrived I could barely breathe from the horrific sight and smells of this, the hospital bathroom.  I hurried back wishing I had just walked around the corner to relieve myself instead.

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Mystery Shots
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

Some time passed, and I woke to the doctor checking Will.  They began to ask questions (mostly with their hands) about his situation.  I tried to explain that he had vomited.  The doctor makes a motion with his hands.  No, Will didn’t have diarrhea.  He made a vomit motion and began to point to colors in the room.  I pointed to the color closest to what I remembered the vomit being.  He points to the clock.  I point to the time we ascended and made a driving uphill motion, pointed to the vomit time and made a vomit motion, acted as if I passed out and pointed to when Will became incoherent.  Will was contributing a little during this time, but the poor guy could barely keep his eyes open.

I took the doctors hand and pressed it against Will’s forehead.  “Temperature” I said.  “Ah, temperature,” he repeated.  He spoke to the nurse who returned with a thermometer.  At that point I became very worried with the professional practices of the hospital.  I can’t go to the doctor with a hangnail without getting my temperature checked.  How can they assess Will’s condition and not even take his temp?  The doctor then left, promising to return later.

Two asses

Ok, so this photo doesn't exactly match the blog, but I have no photos from inside the hospital. Somehow the two asses in the photo seemed to fit the shot story though.

Sure enough Will had a high temp.  The nurse went to the medical kit and pulled out a needle.  Filling it with a mystery elixir, she walked over to Will.  “Will, they need to give you a shot,” I told him.  Will began to roll up his sleeve.  The nurses quickly said, “Niet,” and pointed to Will’s butt.  The shot wasn’t going in the arm.  I laughed and told him, “roll over buddy.”  The nurses giggled as they stuck him in his cheek.

I then went back to bed and started to shiver.  The nurses talked with each other and walked over with the thermometer.  It was my turn to get my temperature checked.  The nurse nodded when she took out the thermometer, and I asked to see it.  102.  A high fever.  The two nurses chatted, then laughed loudly as they motioned for me to roll over.  My turn to get the mystery shot in the butt.

I later found out from the director of the charity that it was likely only a vitamin shot and nothing else.  Not exactly the best cure known to modern medicine.

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This is the hospital?
Tuesday, July 21st, 2009 / Murray

We arrived at a three-story whitewashed building, which gave me hope on the condition and supplies in the hospital.  Then we carried Will in.  It was not all the hospital.  It was mostly an alcohol rehab facility.  The “hospital” was only a 20 foot by 30 foot room inside the rehab unit.  Fitted with three beds (actually boxes with rugs over them), a desk and a safe, the hospital looked like little more than a really bad youth hostel.

The military doctor began to assess the situation with Will as we waited for the regular doctor to arrive.  The nurse went into the safe and pulled out what looked like an old World War II medic’s kit—about the size of a fishing tackle box.  That was the extent of their medical supplies at this hospital.  The opened a bottle and pulled out a strange yellow pill for Will to take.  Will took it as they laid him down on the bed.

That is when I realized how bad I actually was.  The stomach flu had turned and although I didn’t feel sick to my stomach, I was clearly ill.  I had a tight chest which burnt when I breathed and ached all over.  I must have been on an adrenaline high trying to get out of the river and driving down to Murgab.  The doctor gave me the mystery yellow pill and had me lay down as well.

I asked Joe to drive the doctor back to wherever he was going and to find a mechanic to fix the car. She was not in good shape before and the river could not have been good for her.  Will and I were stuck resting while we waited for the hospital doctor to return from wherever he was.  I laid down and immediately fell into a deep sleep.

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