Following the Footsteps of Alexander the Great : A Dream Come True

After three years of planning, studying and dreaming about the journey, finally the beginning of a dream, became a reality. On July 25, 1995, Michael Keathley and myself landed at the airport of a former capital city of Pakistan, Rawalpindi. A light drizzle was falling down; it was about 9:00AM. Little did we know that this was the Monsoon season for that part of the world. We felt everything was under control.

We had a prepaid ticket from Pindi to Gilgit, which is a 700 kilometre flight. We took a taxi to the Pakistani Airline office. There we found out to our surprise, all flights to Gilgit or the Chitral Valley were cancelled. We asked if we could board the next day and they replied that we were to be at their office at 11:00 AM in the morning and we will see, weather permitting. Disappointed, we asked the driver to take us to a hotel. As we arrived at the hotel, we noticed that there were no women in the lobby or anywhere on the street. We do recall that on the airplane the women who boarded from Manchester, England, were dressed casually, and as we approached our landing, they all went to the washrooms, dressed in the Muslim dress, loaded with jewellery from head to toe. The men wore very loose baggy pants and a shirt or cover from shoulder to below the knees.

We had our first different cultural encounter with the hotel manager. We asked if he had a room for two; oh yes he replied, it would be thirty dollars American, but Why don't you have some breakfast first and we will get the room ready in the meantime. After we I had our breakfast, the manager said the room which he thought he had available, wasn't, but he had a better room for $38 American. Fine, we said and we accepted it.

After we rested, we decided to go out and look around. The streets were very busy, traffic moving in all directions cars, horse drawn buggies, bicycles-and on foot, constant congestion, but nobody gets, into an accident, also it seems that nobody moves out of the way for anyone. Small Suzuki cars everywhere, but no beggars, keep in mind this is about the centre of Pakistan. If you went south, where the population is enormous, there, I was told, you would find beggars and thieves. The men were very polite, all were dressed the same, and I mean exactly the same. Only men, everywhere, young and old, but no women.

The living standards are very poor, but they are all the same, so this way no one feels short changed. We were glad we took all the vaccinations back home. I believe that is the only thing that would save us. Things are not very clean, also no government assistance of any kind and only up to grade 3 free schooling. No alcohol of any kind, it is pure and simply illegal, or any other drugs. But the one and only drug is cigarettes and they are being exploited with advertising.

The next day, we knew the airport was closed again, so we hired a private taxi to take us to Gilgit. About 300 km up the highway, the traffic stopped still. We went to look and to our sad surprise the mountain had slid and the road was cut off, with big boulders and mud. We asked the Army men when the road would be cleared and they told us not for at least 2 days. So I took out my movie camera and started acting like a tourist. The scenery was spectacular, simply beautiful. Sky high mountains with a rushing river at the bottom of the gourge. People everywhere, some decided to walk past the slide and continue on to their destination. We decided to turn back because we didn’t know any better.

Back we turned, we were furious, mad, very mad. We thought we were doomed, back to Pindi, again no flights, no roads. The next day, this is now two days later, we had breakfast and headed to a Pakistani government office. There we told them our story and the purpose of our trip. The man was very nice, he told us to forget flying, because even if the sky cleared for a short time, government officials would be the first to board and because no flights took off for a week there was a back log of people. Take a 4x4, which is a jeep or stay here for the duration of your holiday. Thanks to Visa, plus 20% for the use of it, because we did not have an American Express, and they did not take any other cards or travellers cheque. We charted a different course, instead of going first to Hunza Valley, we would go west to Chitral Valley and meet the Kalashi people. This was the perfect destination, because I read a lot about the Kalashi people.
First point of interest on the road to Chitral Valley was pointed out to us by the driver, the road built by Alexander the Great and his army. This road was from Kabul, Afghanistan to Calcutta, India. We stopped to take photos and I walked on the same footsteps of Alexander. I felt very touched, 2300 years later, the first Macedonians, Steve Pliakes and Michael Keathly felt part of Alexander. You have to be there to feel the emotions.

As we went on our journey, the driver again pointed one of the narrow passes that Alexander went on. This pass was called the Malakand Pass, and not so far was Kyber Pass. These are mountain tracks, some places they are paved, but most are no more than 4 feet wide. But the road Alexander the Greats army built was solid. I believe the Macedonians were the first road builders and what other way can an army travel. Most of this road was scavanged and only parts remain intact.

The people in these parts of the country are very hard working. They take the mountain and slowly turn it into beautiful terraced and lush fields. Also the aquaduct methods that they use are out of this world. Every village and every household have water right to their homes. All by engineering methods of redirecting the river and making these aquaducts.

As we took a closer look at these people, they have blue eyes, a fair complexion. They are totally different from the Muslim Pakistanis, in fact they do not want to be called Pakistani, because they are not, they stated this to us. Michael and I even joked as to which one of these men were our brothers. As the day came close to the end, we decided to spend the night at a town called Dir. To our amazement, again more of our brothers and sisters were visible. We walked the main street of Dir. There we saw the small shops where people were selling anything they could sell. At the restaurant, we had mountain tea, thin bread called Chipati, a flat, round in the middle loaf of bread. In the east they call it Pita bread. They also served us yogurt or I call it sour cream, and a delicious plate of cucumbers, yogurt and garlic.

The next morning, off we go to Chitral, a Town and the valley called Chitral. It was about 100 km to Chitral, a very remote area, no road as we would call it. River flowing, rocks falling and rivers crossing and blocking the road. Now I understand how these people remained in isolation. We drove to a height of 10,500 feet. It was cold and windy and you couldn’t stand at the edge of the road for fear of being blown over.

People live and make a living from the mountains. We stopped for tea where a family lived and worked. We also bought goat cheese for the long drive. The speed we travelled was not more than 10-20 km/h.

We reached Chitral Valley. It is beautiful. The river flowing through the middle of the valley. The people have very fair complexions, with blue eyes; mind you there were darker people among the lighter skinned or Kalashe as they call themselves. Sadly, creeping civilization is not always good for some people and some areas in the world. But they must accept change, and as change comes, we lose the innocence and the old traditions. As far as Michael and myself are concerned, we came here in the nick of time. The first Macedonians and hopefully not the last.

Daily, I was writing my findings, as we witnessed everything. Early the next morning to be precise July 29, 1995, we are leaving Chitral for another valley called Kalash Valley. It took 2 ½ hours, over the most treacherous road you could imagine. Again, these are not roads, goat trails. If it were not for the jeep, we would never have reached anywhere. Stones were all over the road, falling everywhere, it was very scary. At one time, our driver, a Muslim asked if he could stop the jeep to pray. We agreed and even asked him to pray for all of us. As we approached Kalash valley, we were stopped by an official and he asked us to record the purpose of our trip, the passport number and the length of our stay. Naturally we had to pay him. They told us this is frontier territory and the locals do not like Pakistanis, so we obeyed as instructed.

As we entered the Kalash valley, we could see the beauty before us. The lush scenery, the rivers flowing and merging, the fruit trees, mainly apricots, plums, mulberries and grapes. The vegetation, small plots of land terraced into the mountain, with fresh vegetables growing everywhere. They grow two crops a year on the same plots, thus enabling them to survive because of land shortage. To make a plot of land, first they have to remove all rocks from the lot, then they built a stone wall horizontally so there won’t be any land erosion, then a slow process of planting first grass so that top soil could be retained. All this time an aquaduct has to be built to irrigate the soil and then ahouse will be built to accommodate the rest of the family.

We were met by a young man called Dawoo, who spoke English. He took us to the cemetary and showed us their method of burying people. He said as far back as approximately fifty years go, they were laying the coffin on the ground. This was a custom which came from Afghanistan, but recently they bury their dead under ground. He showed us a place where they gather during their festivities. An open concept with a roof. This is for the summer. There they dance and romance. There were many carvings on wooden posts or pillars. We saw the Macedonian flower, Zdravets on these carvings although the flower does not grow anywhere in Kalash valley or Hunza valley.

We went to the place of worship. An enclosed room, again decorated with carvings on walls and posts, more of the same and also shapes of the sunburst, Alexander’s flag. We asked what religion they worshipped and they said they believe in God, and if you are good in this life, you go up to a beautiful place, and if you are bad, you go down to bad places and suffer forever. They are not Pakistanis and they do not even like the Pakistanis. In their place of worship, I did see the sign of crosses, here they don’t pray, they sing and dance. As we concluded our walk, we finally stopped to rest and have some food. Talking and eating, we learned they were told by their elders and foreigners about Alexander the Great. Also they were told of their blue eyes and fair complexion and that they are descendants of Alexander the Great. All the countries that Alexander conquered, there were Macedonians living there. I asked them if they knew where Alexander was buried and they said maybe Bagdad.

Ever week they have dances at different villages. Kalash Valley has three villages. That same evening, we were asked if we wanted to go to their village dance. Of course we agreed and by 9:00PM we arrived on an open court yard where the dance was being performed. Only single girls dance, from the ages of about 8 to 15 or 16. They all dance the same as all Macedonians, counter clockwise, with a leader and a tall end person. All shoulder to shoulder with their hands stretched. Young girls in the centre of the oro and according to groups and the oldest girls on the outside. Men only observe. I should mention, no cover charge and no other business was conducted, very innocent. All the girls were dressed with their best costumes. Lovely embroidery and head pieces. The band consisted of two drummers, one small and one larger. The drummers sang and tapped their drums. The girls sang and danced. Men dance in the day time, I was told. The dance lasted until about 12:00 or 1:00AM and off to work the next morning.

The next morning we went back to their temple, although that is not what they call it. We took a few more pictures and then off to another valley and more people to see. But we had to use the same road, it was awful. This is when it dawned on me of the movie “Lost Horizons” Shangrila. In the movie it was snow storms and blizzards, with us it was rocks and floods.

On to Hunza, following a mountain range called Hindukush. We came to an old fort about 300 to 400 years old called Massooch. Here we met the owner of the property, who was a Prince before Pakistan took their title and made them commoners. We discussed religion and most of all, Alexander the Great. He told us that every young man, when he grows up wants to be as wise and strong as Alexander. They even study it in school and he told us that he felt he was a descendent of Alexander of Macedonia, who conquered Athens, Egypt, Persia, Afghanistan and down to day Pakistan and India, after about four cups of mountain tea, we returned to our tent for the night. The next morning, I found the dogs had chewed up one of my shoes. Breakfast was scrambled eggs and tea. On the road again. What road, 10 km/h was the fastest speed for another day.

We are following the hindukush mountain range with the Gilgit River running in the middle between both sides of the mountains. First stop was at a hotel on the road to Gilgit. The hotel consisted of three tents, one for the staff and two for customers. Bathroom facilities on the river. For lunch we had two little fish the size of smelt flat bread, corn soup and tea. As we drove for a few hours, we stopped by the river to wash our faces. Well, the water was so cold that if you were in it for 10 minutes you would be dead. Off we go chugging along 10 to 20 km/h more or less, until the next stop. Along the way, we found young boys fishing. We bought fish as we went on until we had about 10 of them. We finally found a place to stay, a cabin with no hydro of course. The driver cooked the fish we bought. We also bought some cucumbers and tomatoes, and we had the best drink ever, mountain tea. As I am writing this report three young boys are watching us and wondering what we are doing here in their land, but we must drive on after a nights sleep. I guess all good things in life you have to pay dearly, both physically and financially in order to see or feel.

On the road again. Now the Hindukush mountains become the Karakoram mountains. Spectacular view as usual and the road is called the Karakoram highway, built by China and Pakistan. Finally we reach Gilgit and rested at the Chinar Inn. We finally ordered a can of beer each, cool and delicious. After we drank it, we found out that it was non alcoholic which suited us just fine. We forgot that alcohol is illegal in Pakistan. I admire the Muslim religion, no alcohol. The next morning we are headed towards a town called Karimabad. As you know Gilgit is in Hunza valley. Along the way we stopped to buy apricots, mulberries and grapes, mangos and vegetables. We found a good stream and there we stopped for a picnic. At Karimabad, there was no room so we drove 2 km and came to a village called Altit. We found room here at a hotel called Kissar Inn. A real dream place, a beautiful grape covered shelter throughout the whole courtyard. In front, the mountain Rakaposhi, show capped. We even witnessed an avalanche. A beautiful sight all around us. We decided to have a shower, a very cold shower naturally. That same day we visited a fort called Fort Altit. As we entered the fort, we saw carvings of the flower Zdravets and the Sunburst. After the fort, we went shopping for souveniers and I mean real antiques, carvings and whatever you wished.

The following morning we went to visit the Mir of Hunza. We had a 9:30 AM appointment. A real gentleman, but also a rich one. We told him we are Macedonian and he said he was a descendent of Alexander the Great. We had about a two hour meeting. We covered a lot including the Muslims in Macedonia. He didn’t know there were Muslims in Europe. I gave him presents that I brought along. I should say that I gave presents everywhere I met people of interest to me. He loved the Macedonian Flag. He said that he would make every effort to adopt it as the flag of Hunza. He asked what Macedonia exported because he was very interested in us. I told him we export tobacco, shoes, clothes, jam and wines. He wants closer ties with us and the Republic. In the mean time he wants us to send him anything he could display at all of his hotels. As we departed he told us to stay at his brother’s Inn along the way because it had a museum. What a store, again we saw ancient souveniers, the Zdravets, the flag and real artistic works of art. The museum person told us that a particular stone was from the time of Alexander. I held it in my hand, I was very excited.

The next day we parted for China. We are on the Karakoram mountain range and Karakoram highway and the Gilgit river becomes the Hunza river. What a road, they call it the highway to Heavan, very scenic and very dangerous, rock slides and mud slides. Finally we reached China. The elevation was 17,000 feet above sea level. You could not run around here. I tried and got dizzy, then I realized the air is very thin. We met some Chinese tourists and naturally we told them we were Macedonians from the land of Alexander the Great. By now we weren’t surprised to hear that everybody knew of Alexander of Macedonia. As we left for Gilgit, we stopped along a beautiful river, a true turquoise colour, then we bought some fish and the young man cooked them for us, and made us tea. I believe we got hosed at the next town, which is normal, small amounts to us, but large for them.

The next day the driver took us and showed us his home. Five miles on the mountain, a one room house, dirt floor, chickens living under the bed, the stable was the next room. He had one bull, one water buffalo and two baby ones. He had three girls and two boys. His wife and mother cooked dinner for us, fried meat, okra, yogurt and tea. Inat, the driver, wanted us to sleep at his home that night, but there was no room. He was going to sleep in the stable if we stayed. So we decided to got to the nearest town called Balakose. There we booked at the hotel, had a shower and did our last clothing wash in a pail. The next day will be our last in Pakistan.

We went to a town called Taxila with plenty of history. A monestary with immense Macedonian information, a tremendous find for us. Everywhere we looked, we found history of Alexander. At the souvenir shop we gave the owner the Macedonian flag. At first he didn’t believe, but when he opened a book of all the countries of the world, sure enough there was Macedonia with its flag.

I urge all Macedonians wherever you may be, do not wait for someone else to write your history. Go out and tell the world the truth, see for yourselves, what is out there waiting for you. We must change the course that others took to falsify our history. We are as old as the Egyptians. We did have an Empire, which lasted 500 years. Alexander’s adventure took him about 7,000 miles, to promote culture. We travelled about 200 miles following in his foot steps. Imagine what is out there for us to find, more and more of our roots.