COMMUNITY

Travel Writers: A League Of Their Own By David Kovacic

Location: Gilgit, northeast Pakistan

What do you do in Gilgit on a sunny Saturday afternoon? You go to the local polo match, of course.

Some years ago while travelling through northeast Pakistan I had the opportunity to spend a day in Gilgit. With few friends, we set out just after lunch to explore the local shops. While meandering down the narrow, shop-lined streets we kept hearing the rise and fall of the roar of a crowd. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me and I asked a nearby shopkeeper what the noise was.

"It is polo match. You like polo? You go" he replied.

After exchanging raised eyebrows with my friends, we all agreed this was worth exploring. So we asked the shopkeeper where the match was being played.

"You follow the sound" he replied pointing in the general direction of the roar of the crowd.

We thanked the shopkeeper and set off in search of the polo match. Threading our way through small alleyways, we following the roar until we eventually came upon a dusty playing field enclosed by a waist-high rock fence. A polo match was in progress as we watched in fascination. It was, after all, the first polo match we'd ever seen.

After a few minutes, a couple of nearby Pakistani spectators noticed us watching the game and began to shout and wave their arms in the air. This began to draw attention to us, as more spectators became aware of our presence. The whole scene was beginning to make us feel a little nervous. Had we inadvertently trespassed on some secret ritual forbidden to westerners? This turned out not to be the case as much to our surprise the match was halted within a few minutes. Despite our protests, we were escorted across the playing field to a raised platform where four empty chairs awaited us. These appeared to be the only seats around the ground, so we felt a bit like royalty as we were seated.

With the neighbouring mountains as the backdrop, the polo match recommenced at a frenzied pace. At times were so close to the action we could smell the sweat from the horses as the battle raged past us. On numerous occasions we watched, as spectators sitting on the rock fences had to dive for cover as the rider's mallets swung in the exact spot they'd just vacated.

While I have no idea who the teams were or what the score was, it was a totally wild spectacle. A thoroughly entertaining way to spend an afternoon in Gilgit.

Text and images © David Kovacic, all rights reserved.