In Jaghori, sustainability is a lifestyle.
Everyone works to live with the land, not against it. Water for bathing is warmed under the sun, old clothes become cleaning cloths and steam from boiling water is used to heat homes.
I have fond memories of life in my village as a child. Helping my mother make quroot and excitedly waiting nights and days for it to dry under the strong UV rays, or stacking up the cow dung to fuel our fires and fertilise our crops. The most amazing crops: the sweetest sweetcorn, the most golden wheat, and the juiciest apricots in the field behind our house. Our house that was made out of khesht, keeping us warm in the winter and cool in the summer – natural, biodegradable and top tier insulation. Although if it was too chilly, you could put on an extra layer or two. Clothes would be repatched, passed down and worn until they were threadbare. Or the fabric woven into a reworked blanket, so you may not even need the extra layer after all. I guess embroidering flowers onto my already repatched clothes was my form of upcycling. This was sustainability long before I ever knew the word. It was quiet, sacred, woven into daily life.
Conservation of the Earth and everything it provided was crucial. I remember how my family used ash and soaproot by the river to wash clothes, careful not to poison the water that gave them so much. But people also lived simply because they had to. Alternatives weren’t always accessible. Choices were shaped by love and by limits – respect for the planet, and the reality of survival.
I carry that dual awareness with me.
Now, as I prepare for my study abroad in South Korea, I implore myself to do as they do. South Korea is a place where traditional culture meets rapid modernisation, and like many developed nations, faces challenges around plastic waste, fast fashion, and energy consumption. Having visited previously, I know that single use plastics are rampant and convenience often comes before consciousness. Like before, I will stay in shared housing, an energy-efficient way to reduce heating, lighting, and water consumption. I take direct flights and the KTX instead of domestic flights to reduce emissions. I carry reusable containers and bottles when out and ride Korea’s efficient public transportation. I commend Korea’s strict and rigorous recycling and food waste system. I will definitely be returning to Dongdaemun Market to buy second hand, thrifting and upcycling my clothes just as I once patched and embroidered them by hand.
Travel, to me, is not just about unchecked consumption but about exchange. I want to carry my Hazara roots into life abroad, not just by telling others where I come from, but by living in a way that reflects my community’s reverence for nature.
