Arrived in Mastuj after a dazzling and dusty two-hour ride on jeep track in the back of a grain truck all four limbs draped over giant wheat sacks. Pretty soft cushion and the other guy in back was a no-pressure quiet type of road companion I appreciate when the only way to talk is to shout over the roar of the motor. Upper Chitral valley is spectacular, dry and shocking geology crowned by occasional fairyland glacier peaks and always the bright blue sky. Left detailed voice message for mom and dad at a staggering 240 rupees: requested camera batteries and dark chocolate for our meeting in Iran. If the poor people bring half of what I requested they will be burdened.

Made it to the Mastuj fort North out of town on foot and was put up in the desperate foyer where the staff of two Chitralis and six Afghani refugees worked to feed the 60-odd people camped out in the apple orchard due to the district elections at Buni. Buni is in the 'Tisal' or 'sub-district' of Chitral called "the Mastuj Tisal' and is composed of most of upper Chitral Valley. I had pinned my hopes on meeting the big prince Hoshvaght Al –Mulk and now that it seemed unlikely and the bikers Tim and Terry I met in Buni on the way here had not cycled in I was contimplating sneaking off back to the bazaar to stay with a group of Italian tourists I saw as I came into town.

One young Afghani fellow was using my pitiful understanding of Persian to beg for money, aid, my flashlight, the works and pressing me a bit. This added to my agitation which had been momentarily cooled by chowing down on some of the hot halwa cooked on the wood fire. Halwa or 'halva' is any sweet concotion made of wheat flour (or any flour), butter, sugar, and maybe nuts all cooked together to form a sweet buttery porridge. Just then the phone rand and the head servant called Subardar said it was for me. "Oh really?" I thought and reached for the clunky black receiver. I was surprised by the clear tones of what sounded like and elderly Englishman on the other end inviting me to share his room in the main fort garden or at least come meet him and his guest from Peshawar for some dinner.

I was led through the orchard, past the council member tents full of men playing cards and chatting, and through the empty and crumbling fort enclosure to the missisippi-esque prefab ranch-style house bizarrely set in a modest walled garden whose grass in the otherwise arid surroundings seemed a fantastic extravegance. Coronel Hosh Vaght Ul- Mulk meet and his guest Asmatollah Afridi greeted me warmly in the main bedroom and started things off in jest by telling me that Mr. Afridi (also called "Haji Sahib") was in the area to go to the Afghani Wakhan Corridor and pay a visit to Osama Bin Laden.

After a bit our conversation came around to the new political system being implemented in Pakistan by President Musharraf that created this new seat over all Chitral District of Nazim. As it turns out, Coronel Ul Mulk's nephew Prince Mohaiudeen is the main contender for the post and is running against Abdul Wali Khan (AKA "Wali" with whom I had been travelling for the last several days on his campaign trail). To complicate things further the nice young prince with whom I had been socializing during the campaign, Prince Mohammad Ayub, is also the Coronel's nephew and as a serious affront to the family's honor and allegiances has been supporting "this man Wali." He asked me why Prince Ayub is supporting Wali. Not able to dodge the question totally I related that it was through a deep knowledge of Wli's good character gained during their childhood freindship together in Ka'uzi Village that Prince Ayub made this choice. After eating the very same mediocre food I had had back with the cooking staff (except now quite cold) I retired to an extra bed set up for me in the garden just under a large shade tree. The only other piece of furniture in the garden was the large wooden platform which appeared to be intended as a lounge bed but now held score of large onions.

During the night a very bright moon rose over the eastern mountains and across the sky. The next day we had a strong breakfast of bread, butter (which tasted like butter and yak cheese mixed together), cooked liver, fried eggs and milk tea and then talked about the Coronel's fascinating life and his personal views on Christianity, the places he has travelled to (including Chicago in 1966 as part of free tour awarded him by the US State Department when he worked as a US Consulate employee under Ambassador Steve Winsip), his views on Islam and his many memories of pre-independence India.

He was married at age 2 to a 4 year old girl due to his father's need to control the landowner class of the bride (his father ruled all of Chitral until Pakistani Independence in 1948), attended school then military academy at Dehra Dun (a mere one week horse ride plus 36 hours train ride away from home) and served as a comissioned officer in the British-Indian Army. He was born in 1913 and is the spitting image of an English gentileman: he speaks English, Chitrali (Khowar), Urdu as his first languages. His guest book looks to have been signed by every western nation consul to have served in Pakistan.