Chabahar Day 5: The Beautiful Feeling of Being Baluch

March 23 (4th of Farvardin)
Not wanting to trouble Khaled for breakfast again, we set off toward Chabahar. Reaching Beris, we fixed a quick roadside breakfast consisting of fried eggs with piping hot bread and got ready to hitchhike. We caught a direct ride back to Chabahar and our accommodation. After a hot shower and a brief rest, we headed out to explore the city.

You might recall that we had tailored custom Balochi suits to blend in with the locals. Over the past couple of days, we noticed our outfit was missing a vital element: the Balochi shawl and wrap, known locally as a Lanki. A Lanki resembles a long cotton sheet, serving as an indispensable, multifunctional accessory for every Balochi man.

It is a rectangular cotton fabric roughly one meter wide and two to three meters long, folded lengthwise and draped effortlessly across the shoulder. A Lanki functions as a towel, blanket, ground mat, prayer rug, and virtually anything else imaginable, earning it the nickname 'the tool of a thousand uses.' One fascinating use is the 'Balochi chair': while sitting on the ground, you pull your knees tight against your chest, wrap the Lanki firmly around your back and shins, and lean back into it. This makeshift support lets you sit comfortably on the ground for hours without back fatigue.

The Desmal, in contrast, is square shaped, about a meter across, and typically worn as a headwrap by elder men. The next item we purchased was an Afghan blanket. Similar in dimensions to a Lanki, it is crafted from pure wool, being incredibly warm yet lightweight and compact, which makes it an ideal piece of gear for backpackers.

Outfitted with our new Lankis and Desmals, we went exploring other bustling shops! Our first stop was a spice bazaar, where a vivid tapestry of colors and rich aromas captivated the senses, though taking a deep breath was sure to trigger a few solid sneezes! One standout spice blend was Karahi, used to cook the signature regional dish of the same name, with varieties ranging from chicken and mutton karahi to White Karahi. When browsing, do not miss authentic Balochi chili, a vibrant red pepper that packs an intense and delicious kick.

Walking the distance between the Lanki shop and the spice market, I suddenly realized my GoPro was not in my hand, nor did my travel partner have it. It hit me that I had set it on the counter at the fabric shop, and as the shopkeeper piled up various fabrics, it had gotten buried underneath. I checked the POS receipt for the store contact number, but no one answered. A wave of sheer panic washed over me because I had just bought that GoPro and it held all our trip photos and footage. We sprinted back to the shop. Panting for breath, I asked, 'Excuse me, I think I left a camera here!' The shopkeeper calmly leaned down, pulled the camera from beneath the counter, and said, 'This one?' I was floored. How could people be this honest and upright? Most of us have experienced leaving an expensive item behind, only to return and have the vendor deny we were ever there, let alone admit to finding the item.

Our next stop was an authentic Attari, in the literal sense of the word, a true perfumery! They stocked handmade Pakistani perfumes and incense with rare scents you have likely never encountered before, yet they instantly captivate you. This incense is completely different from commercial sticks, both in texture and fragrance. Some resemble northern Iranian herb paste (Dalar), while others come as pressed cubes or raw resin crystals. Unlike commercial incense, you cannot just light them with a match; they require sustained heat to release their fragrance, making an electric burner ideal. For campers and backpackers, they are fantastic. On many late nights around the campfire, I tossed a pinch of this resin over hot coals, surprising my companions with an enchanting and aromatic smoke.

We enjoyed lunch at the beloved Gharib Nawaz Restaurant and headed to Mokran Restaurant on the Darya-ye Koochak shore to catch the sunset. In celebration of Nowruz, they were hosting live traditional music. I found an empty chair right near the stage and sat down. A local gentleman walked up and asked me a question in fluent Balochi. I smiled and replied, 'Excuse me, I am not Balochi, I am Persian.' He asked in genuine surprise, 'Really?!' In that exact moment, I knew I had nailed the look! My attire and demeanor mirrored the locals so well that I blended right in, and I was thrilled. I smiled back and said, 'Yes, but I honestly wish I were Balochi.