Schussing from Naltar to Sochi

I stepped on an ice rink once, and only once in my life. The kid who followed me around calling me a chicken while making chicken sounds, can best describe the grace I exhibited on the rink. I attempted to learn how to ski last winter in hopes of accompanying my husband (who is an ardent skier), down a black diamond some day. Me coming (or tumbling) down the slope on skies was more unsuccessful than a penguin attempting to run a marathon. After countless falls and a torn meniscus in my knee, I traded in the skies for a snowboard this winter and that looked more like a slow walking penguin that tripped here and there.

My future in the snow sports arena might not be so bright but Pakistan’s sure does look promising. With the opening ceremony of the 2014 Winter Olympics on Thursday February 6, 2014, Pakistanis will have their eyes on the nation's sole Olympics qualifier: the 18 year old Alpine Skier, Muhammad Karim. He grew up in the Gilgit-Baltistan area and taught himself how to ski on homemade wooden skis with galoshes nailed to the wood. Soon after, he caught the eye of the Pakistani Ski Federation (PSF) during an annual ski competition. He began skiing in the Naltar Ski School run by the Pakistan Air Force at the age of six, trained internationally for the first time in 2006 during a tour to Japan, finished fifth in the 2007 Asian Winter Games and eventually brought home a bronze medal from Lebanon during the 2009 Asian Winter Games. Could a medal in the 2014 Winter Olympics bring a sliver of hope to Pakistan? Most definitely! Go Karim, bring home that beautiful shiny sliver of hope and kindle the slopes of Malam Jabba again. No pressure. 

Malam Jabba, a beautiful hill town in the Karakoram mountain range, was the home to Pakistan’s first and only ski resort that was built in 1986 with the joint efforts of the Pakistani and Austrian governments. During its glory days, it attracted thousands of tourists who travelled from all over the world to the 91 mile Swat Valley in search of an adrenaline rush. 

                                   Malam Jabba Ski Resort in the Pre-Taliban Era (Source: Wikipedia)

In 2008, after the Taliban insurgency, militants torched the resort, damaged the chair lifts that carried skiers up the 800m slope whose highest point rested 9200ft (2804m) above the sea level, destroyed the metrological tower in the area and the stores that rented ski equipment. The place was a ghost town when the Pakistani military reclaimed it in 2009, driving the Taliban out of the valley.  Despite the assurances of the Pakistani government that the area is safe for tourism, citizens and foreign visitors are afraid to step in. The annual tourism rate in the valley has dwindled from 300,000 tourists in the pre-Taliban era to a humble 50,000. 

                                                      Destruction of the Malam Jabba Resort (Source: Pakwheels)

            In an effort to paint a new life over this dismal grey picture, one man, Mateeullah Khan started the Pioneer Sports and Ski School in Malam Jabba. While the government stalls the efforts to rebuild the resort, under Mr. Khan’s supervision the locals built a chairlift using a 2000cc Diesel engine from a Toyota Corolla and chairs from a Toyota wagon with the capacity to carry 6 people up the slope at a time. He has proven that 15 pairs of skies, 2 pairs of poles, 1 makeshift chairlift and human resilience are what it takes to see the silver lining that the people of the valley needed to see. In an interview with a BBC representative, Mr. Khan sums up his love for skiing in these beautiful words:

“It keeps you alive - especially the spring skiing when the temperature starts to warm, and the snow starts melting, but at night the temperature falls and frozen ice crystals form on the top layer of the snow. When you start sliding down it in the early morning, breaking that ice, it produces a very good sound and you can feel it down your skis. We say that having one run on this spring snow makes you young for a year.”

            I don’t know about you, but I would not mind doing a few runs down that spring ice and adding a few more years of youth to my life! Mr. Khan’s efforts are commendable and require the support of every Pakistani out there. So next time you head up that way, make a stop at Malam Jabba, grab some wooden planks, nail down a pair of old boots, schuss down the fresh powder and give the nation a few more Muhammad Karims.

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Sword?

With only one day left before the start of the 2014 Winter Olympics at Sochi, Russia, I noticed a flood of comical Facebook posts about the impending horror that awaits visitors and athletes in the Russian city. Six of the nine hotels that were built specifically to accommodate the Olympics audience and participants are reportedly under construction, while the constructed ones have dismal rooms, absence of drinkable water and stray dogs wandering around inside.

While discussing the snowboarding and skiing events, my husband (who is not a Pakistani) asked me if any Pakistanis made it to the 2014 Olympics. In that moment, I was struck by a sad realization; I know nothing about the Pakistani winter sports teams. Truth is, events of the past decade, tied to Pakistan have left me in indifference. I was very vocal as a teenager, I had an opinion about everything that was wrong about my country and I had an opinion about how all of that could be fixed. As I grew older, much of that zeal died and I stopped caring because it felt as though I, a small grain of sand, could not make a difference. Once I physically left the country, my heart left it too. Time and again I read the depressing news related to Pakistan. The more I read, the more restless I became because I wanted to do something about it. I had no clue what to do so I did nothing.

To answer my husband’s question, I did a quick Internet search and quickly learned that the Pakistani ski team qualified for the 2014 Winter Olympics. After hours of reading about the history of winter sports in Pakistan, I took a journey through time. I saw the glory days of a bustling ski resort in the Swat Valley and the remnants of its skeleton. Even though I was aware of the destruction of this resort by the Taliban, looking at the pictures and reading accounts of the locals left me in tears. I remembered how strongly I had felt about Pakistan, how much I loved and cared for this land and how enthusiastically I climbed to the roof of my house to hang strings of mini flags in celebration of the independence day. I had reached that point again, where I asked myself the question, “How can I, a small grain of sand, make a difference?” This time I decided to do something; I decided to write.

Now is a time good as any to test whether the pen is mightier than the sword. I never learned how to wield a sword but I sure do know how to employ a pen. The decision to write gave birth to this blog and the resolve to spread the word, to express an opinion, to reach out to others, to remind everyone where we came from, to remember how beautiful our land is, to demonstrate how resilient we are, and most of all, to resuscitate Pakistan.