Hunza, a valley located in northern Pakistan in the region of Gilgit-Baltistan, feels like less of a place and more of an idea, almost dreamlike. The landscape is so striking it hardly seems real. Standing surrounded by mountains, finding your way through the medieval architecture, and encountering the friendliest people. There is a sense of adventure and freedom in the air.

At night, when you sit beneath the stars that paint the sky, next to the campfire that keeps you warm, you might hear a voice from the other side of the flame. The voice of a shaman telling stories of fairies and mountain spirits, of monsters and heroes. It is in that moment that it hits you: all the fantasy novels you read as a child start to make sense, now more than ever. The newfound understanding isn't just in your head but instead something that must be felt. It inspires and urges you to think and see things in ways you never did before.

Once the stories end and the folk music begins, that’s when your own story truly starts.

The Man on the Mountain

It was my first day in Hunza when my dad announced that we were heading up into the surrounding mountains to visit a village.

Upon arrival, my dad headed into one of the houses, prompting us to follow. He entered unannounced, which confused me. I was delighted to find out that we had not trespassed but entered a communal building. Villages surrounding the valley value hospitality highly, and such buildings are a testament to it. Allowing visitors to stay and learn about the local culture is just one purpose of such buildings; they also serve as venues for community gatherings.

 The man on the mountain: Mr. Rehmat Ullah Baig

I would later find out that the instrument was called an Xhigini and that the man had made this one himself. It is an ancient bowed lute played like a violin, but with a unique tone. In his playing, I could hear fragments of ancient forgotten stories: stories of tragedy, harmony, and peace. What made his music feel so timeless and unfamiliar was that the instrument wasn’t tuned to equal temperament.

Equal temperament is a Western tuning system that has been adopted all around the world. It would be fair to assume most music you’ve heard utilizes equal temperament. This adoption of equal temperament, however, leads to many musical traditions losing their essence and, in some cases, their emotional depth. This made what this man was playing all the more special.

I left the village in awe, spending the next few days failing to sober up from the experience.

My Ears Don’t Deceive Me

As someone who has grown up in Pakistan, I cannot, without lying, say that there isn’t a certain taboo that surrounds music. Yes, you will hear music in malls, ads, and restaurants. There are even very big music companies and shops, but there is always an air of forbidden allure, a shadow of “sin” that follows. Even I, as someone who does not advertise the fact that I play music, have had to face verbal abuse and endure being berated with profanities simply because I play the guitar.

                                                                                                                                     Inside Leif Larson Music Center, Hunza

Hunza: A New Perspective

Hunza, to me, was a lot more than just a change of scenery. I felt as if I had been pushed into reality. Everything around me wasn’t background noise anymore; something beautiful had come into focus. It inspired something in me in ways I never imagined a place could.

Maybe it was the people and their nonchalant excitement about life. They celebrated life and its beauty so normally, and being there with them in those moments to do so felt normal. To do anything else would not make sense. It is in all I share with them, and in all the ways we are different, that I fell in love with this place called Hunza.