The second day, beginning of the migration
The next day was the day of migration. Having no idea what awaits us during migration made us even more excited. Early in the morning, we had our hearty breakfast (since we were supposed to have a long day before us, everybody was served with Ghee), then we packed our things and set off on foot with the large flock of goats and sheep. I was moving at the head, the flock was after me, and the others were shepherding the flock from behind so that they wouldn’t go astray. All could be heard was the sounds of the flock. The most exhilarating experience one can have. We walked the path towards the mountains. The weather was perfect, and the sceneries were fantastic that we had to stop to take in the magnificent mountain sceneries.
The mules and donkeys moved the family and the belongings. Whenever there was a downhill, the girls would leave the mules to walk. Yasna, the little one, was left in the care of Ziba. During all those hours in valleys and mountains, she was carrying her little sister with great affection.
Finally, after some lovely hours among great mountains with all those lovely sheep and goats, we reached the so-called site we could camp. It was somewhere close to the River, which was a long, mighty and fast-flowing river.
The name of the area was Rousta (Aston Melab). After some days, we found the chance to wash our bodies in the chilly water of the river. Then, we had some lovely cup of teas.
Nothing but Iranian Kebab could refresh us more at the end of the day. The father of the nomad family made his mind to kill one of the sheep, the one which was hurt quite accidentally by a stone, slipping on his hip. Its fresh meat became our dinner. A lovely kebab with fresh meat. A real Kebab to its very core.
The third day, visiting villages
The following day we stopped by Zerk village on our way to Khoya. It was our first telephone access after three days. No exaggeration to say that it was the most fantastic village I’ve ever seen. All peace and tranquility, with no never-ending hustle and bustle of urban life. We were hosted by Mr. Derakhshan’s nice family, whose house was surrounded by great mountains and there was a nice river in front of their house.
They had four lovely children, two daughters and two sons. The girls made me a beautiful doll, they called it Lal (means mute; since their dolls have no mouth on their face)
The boys mostly playing with long thin sticks and tires, and the girls used the empty houses for their Khale bazi (a girlish game that mostly girls play, in which they act as if they are grown up women with kids. They act like their mom). They were playing happily with their simple toys; if you can call them ‘toys’. They were playing with things which were no longer of any use to anyone, and they were really happy with what they had.