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"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?！?/div>
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(gè)很健談且樸實(shí)的法國卓巴。他和我一起進(jìn)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(gè)防御堡壘。許多個(gè)早晨，他在路練習(xí)瑜珈以減輕北部的酸痛。我擴(kuò)大筆記本電腦上的字體設(shè)置是承認(rèn)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(gè)孩子。等我最終到達(dá)火地島（我6到7年路程的目的地）時(shí)，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(dāng)時(shí)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(dòng)著屁股。冰冷的河水對面，幾個(gè)穿土褐色寬松長罩衫的瓦罕牧羊人聚在一起模仿他的動(dòng)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(duì)跳進(jìn)了喀布爾，跟在一輛T-55坦克后面兩步遠(yuǎn)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(duì)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。
