"She makes me feel old," complained photographer Matthieu Paley after we had trudged by on the dirt road built by the Soviets.
我們涉水過河上了蘇聯(lián)修的土路,攝影師馬蒂厄·佩利抱怨道:“她使我覺得自己老邁來臨?!?/p>
Paley was voluble and earthy, a French Zorba. He was joining me for a rare foot crossing of Afghanistan's Wakhan corridor, a forgotten redoubt tucked high behind the mountain walls of the Hindu Kush. In the mornings he performed yoga on the road to soothe a tricky back. Expanded font settings on my laptop were my own concessions to middle age. But I didn't feel old. Not at all. Walking the Earth makes you a child again. By the time I eventually reach Tierra del Fuego, my destination six or seven years away, I will be newborn.
佩利是個很健談且樸實的法國卓巴。他和我一起進行穿越阿富汗瓦罕走廊的罕見徒步行走,那是隱藏在高高的興都庫什山脈下面的一個防御堡壘。許多個早晨,他在路練習瑜珈以減輕北部的酸痛。我擴大筆記本電腦上的字體設(shè)置是承認自己已經(jīng)人到中年,但我并不覺得老了,根本沒有感覺。行走全球讓我又成為了一個孩子。等我最終到達火地島(我6到7年路程的目的地)時,我將得到重生。
I glanced back.
我回頭暼了一眼。
Paley was doing a Wakhi dance now -- paddling his arms and shimmying his hips along the desolate banks of the Panj. Across the glacial currents in Afghanistan, a few delighted Wakhi shepherds in dirt-brown shalwar kameezes gathered to mimic his moves. Everyone dances in Afghanistan. During the war, in the early 2000s, I had danced into Kabul with a column of Northern Alliance troops, two-stepping behind a T-55 tank to avoid land mines: a combat conga line. I remember how one fighter broke ranks to pillage a farmhouse. A booby trap blew off his feet with a dull pop. This was a long time ago. It was before I began truly to walk, back when I was a million or more years old.
佩利當時也正在跳一種瓦罕舞蹈--沿荒涼的噴赤河岸,揮舞著胳膊,扭動著屁股。冰冷的河水對面,幾個穿土褐色寬松長罩衫的瓦罕牧羊人聚在一起模仿他的動作。阿富汗人人都跳著舞。戰(zhàn)爭期間,2000年代初期,我曾隨一支北約軍隊跳進了喀布爾,跟在一輛T-55坦克后面兩步遠以避開地雷陣:一種戰(zhàn)爭康加舞帶。我記得一名戰(zhàn)士是如何離隊去搶掠一家農(nóng)舍的,一枚詭雷沉悶地嘭的一聲炸掉了他的腳。那是很久以前的事了,那是在我開始真正地行走之前,我要回到100多萬年以前去。