Journey to Packilvania: the Most Conservative City in the World
Motui Tuatuma
The cities I've visited have dispelled many of my misgivings about travelling to Packilvania. The food is delicious, the people are friendly and welcoming, and the places are usually safe and clean and filled with historic buildings, and beautiful and fun experiences. From hot air ballooning to visiting museums, ancient ruins and masjids, drinking coffee in a desert tent, riding elephants, snorkelling in beautiful coral reefs, and hiking in majestic mountains, I realised that Packilvania has much to offer.
Although the country has many positive traits that are often ignored, the true test lies in visiting the most conservative city on the planet: Akas Akil.
Getting a permit to come to this city was incredibly expensive and difficult because most non-Paxists are forbidden from coming to this city. This is because it is the holiest place in Paxism, a religion followed by billions of people. They believe that the battle between good and evil happened here and the most evil being in the world was sealed beneath the Memorial of the Jovian Gate, arguably the oldest religious site in the world.
The city also serves the the capital city of the province of Ashura, and is believed to be the origin of not only Paxism but Packilvania itself, as it was the capital city of the dynasty that united and established the country almost two thousand years ago.
Women and men were modest, both fully covered although at least, men didnât have their faces covered. Women are forbidden from going outside without a male guardian, driving a car or speaking among groups of men. Physical contact was limited.
My host in the city, Yahdun, invited me to his home where his wife served us a delicious meal of pastries, breads, meat, and cheeses. The food here is quite heavy in carbs and meat compared to Ubran in the countryâs tropical regions most likely because livestock and grains do better in this hot and dry weather.
Indeed, we often had to be indoors because temperatures during the day were scorching. However, at night, temperatures regularly dropped to below freezing and I had to wear a thick coat to keep warm. Although water was sprayed in public spaces there was a lot of dust due to sands from the deserts in the east.
Fortunately, the Ufrata River provided an oasis with a line of foliage skirting its banks. With beautiful parks and groves of date palms lining the river, I enjoyed a refreshing cold coffee and dessert made with dates, nuts, cardamom and rose water.
The sound of religious chanting calling the people to prayer and propagating the word of Noi filled the air. Unlike Fidakar where some alcohol, smoking, dancing and modern music were tolerated, people in Akas Akil were strictly forbidden from that and the sale of pork was banned. Instead of pubs one saw restaurants and cafes.
In the cooler afternoons when the city was alive with activity, I managed to take the metro to Hafiz Square, wherever I walked there were imams preaching and groups of young men reciting religious texts.
In the old city, merchants sell gold jewellery, spices, fabrics, and carpets. When the school bell rang to mark the end of the day, boys ran outside to greet merchants selling fried dough snacks and date juice, with their female counterparts conspicuously absent as they tended to be tutored at home.
A man performed in the street, playing an ancient flute and charming a cobra while surrounded by bewildered spectators. Armed men, presumably the police, walked about as people moved out of their way.
People tended to keep to themselves, but whenever I asked for help, they went out of their way to show me where to go or refused to accept my money when I asked to pay. It was quite different from big cities in the south, where scammers, swindlers and pickpockets were rife.
On the cityâs outskirts, men rode camels, carried swords and had falcons perched on their arms which helped them herd their livestock and catch vermin.
The city was not modern or glitzy in the same way as Kemer, Bingol or Gezer, the big cities on the coast. The architecture kept to old styles and earthy materials like stone. I could knock on anyoneâs door and they offered me tea. Curious kids would laugh and glare at me, as Yahnub conversed with the master of the house.
Akas Akil was probably more of what I expected from Packilvania than any place in the country. That this city exerts so much influence over our image of the whole country, demonstrates its importance. I did find the way women were treated and the heavy presence of security officials troubling.
While this was a rare opportunity and I would love to visit again, I do caution against visiting here.
