"It's a dangerous business, going out of your door. You step into the Road, and if you don't keep your feet, there is no knowing where you might be swept off to." - J.R.R. Tolkien

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

The Landlady and the Home Remedies

This may come as a surprise to you, dear reader, considering I'm such an intrepid and fearless traveler, but I get sick a lot. I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it's the climate, or the microbe-infested dust that is everywhere, or the fact that I don't get enough sleep and am stressed out most of the time. Whatever the reason, I get sick a lot and have local people fuss about it.

My current illness is less than a week old, though comes less than a month after my last cold. It's probably just a cold, or some sort of virus that just has to work itself out, but it's got the locals panicked. My co-workers are besides themselves with concern. They insist that my apartment must be cold, and that's why I'm sick. [Please keep in mind that it still is in the mid-70s everyday... not exactly cold.] They bustle around and force me to drink black tea, because green tea isn't good for you when you have a cold, and buy copious amounts of milk whose “biotic qualities” (whatever this means) are supposed to cure me. It's all wonderfully thoughtful, but needless to say, I'm still sick.

Yesterday my landlady came over. She has tended to do this more and more lately, calling me up with 15 minutes' notice to inform me that she's in town and is going to spend some time pretending to fix things in my apartment and, hence, will be spending the night. It's annoying, but not the end of the world. My Peace Corps-honed flexibility and patience allow me to shrug off this frequent invasion of privacy and get on with my life. At this point, the problem isn't that my landlady is in my apartment. The problem is that my landlady is in my apartment and knows I'm sick.

To fully understand the dreadful situation this puts me in, you have to understand how much people love home remedies in this country. The minute anyone finds out you're sick they're suggesting you drink vodka with honey (or salt, or pepper, or dill), inject yourself with various medications, buy a very specific kind of herb sold by a certain lady that has a stand on this certain street and if you leave now she'll probably still be there, soak your feet in milk, drink raw eggs (and yes, they have to be raw because they lose their healing properties in the cooking process), go visit a fortuneteller, etc.

And when people here suggest a home remedy, they mean business. Anything less than immediate use of their remedy is unacceptable. None of this “thanks for the idea, I might try it later” crap. I tried that once tonight with my landlady, tried to quietly brush her suggestions aside and get on with my evening. Nice try, American, you will use their home remedy, and you will like it. So here I am, sitting on my bed typing up a training accompanied by a plate of freshly sliced onions and a clove of garlic that's on a string around my neck. The onions are for my sore throat, and the garlic is supposed to “heat up my chest” and stop my cough. All I can say for home remedies is that 2 hours in I feel exactly the same as I did pre-home remedy, but smell quite a bit more foul.

Friday, October 14, 2011

Summer Adventures, PART 4

The Epic Travel Adventures of One Peace Corps Volunteer in the Summer of 2011
(or What I've Been Doing For The Last Month) – PART 4

The next morning we woke up to a chilly morning. Let me tell you, it was rough. I ached from the time spent on horseback the previous day, I was seriously sunburned, and I was cold from the damp morning air. The rest of the camp was already awake, our guide Batyr was saddling our horses, the women were finishing breakfast preparations and the men were preparing for the day. We rolled up the mattresses, sheets and blankets that covered the yurt floor, and pulled the table to the center of the yurt before setting breakfast out. For breakfast there was tea, bread, eggs, fresh butter and apricot jam. We finished breakfast, said goodbye to our hosts, slathered ourselves in sunscreen, and rode off into the hills.

Batyr was less talkative than the previous day, it was much colder than the previous day, and our horses were less pleased us than the previous day. My horse did his task of picking his way through the hillside valiantly, but COBC's horse was in no mood to be carrying someone around. We had to stop frequently while Batyr tried to coax it along, and eventually he and COBC traded horses. The second day's ride was much more difficult than the previous day's. The terrain was rockier and steeper and it was cold. Despite my long underwear, heavy duty fleece jacket and rain coat, I was freezing. The higher we went the windier it got. Slowly we climbed to the Jalgyz Karagai pass – 3300 meters (10,800 feet) – from which we would descent to Song Kol basin. Just as we reached the pass, the sun peaked out from the clouds to shine light on the lake that glittered in the distance.

The break in the weather was short-lived, and in no time at all we found ourselves in the middle of a chilly hailstorm. We soldiered on, and eventually reached the Jaman Echki jailoo, and the dry warmth of yurts and lunch. We didn't eat alone, but instead were joined by some other travelers that had come in with a CBT guide by Land Rover to do some hiking. The other travelers were German. It was two girls working Bishkek with the German volunteer program (similar to Peace Corps), and one of the girl's parents who had come to visit. We exchanged amusing stories about life in Central Asia and went on our way. The ride after lunch was cold but easy, as we were covering fairly level terrain of the lake basin. We passed marmots, steppe eagles, and herds of horses as we made our way to the lakeside yurts off in the distance. By mid-afternoon we had reached the 20 yurts that made up the CBT Song Kol jailoo community.

Song Kol was beautiful, perched among mountains, and it was amazing to be staying with a local family in a yurt in a place so sacred to the Kyrgyz people. We made friends with 3 kids staying in the neighboring yurt who had come from Bishkek for a 10-day kumus treatment. Kumus is the fermented mare's milk that is thought to have healing properties and is quite popular throughout Central Asia. These city kids – Bigzat (age 11), Kanashai (age 5), Begimat (age 3) – came with their aunt every year to Song Kol to be restored by the lake and the kumus they drank every three hours. They were cute and because they were city kids they spoke Russian. We strolled along the lakeshore, played with the kids, and ate a delicious dinner of sauteed cabbage, potatoes, and carrots for dinner before hitting the sack for a last evening in a yurt.

The next morning we ate breakfast, packed up, and waited for our ride back to Kochkor. We spent 4 bumpy hours in the same beat up Lada that had dropped us off 2 days earlier before reaching the town. We arranged to spend the night with the same host family, and dropped our things off before setting off to explore the town. Kochkor is a typical Central Asian town. Town life centers around the main drag which has a bizarre, cafes, and businesses. We walked through a slightly terrifying regional museum that was full of Soviet memorabilia and rotting floors before heading to lunch. We spend the afternoon napping, reading, and planning the next day's trip back to Bishkek. After a final night in central Kyrgyzstan we found a shared taxi back to Bishkek.

Our trip back across the border into Kazakhstan was considerably less interesting and less hectic than the trip into Kyrgyzstan, but the easy crossing was a relief after a tiring trip. Overall, it was a truly amazing trip. When we were first planning the trip, I expected to enjoy the time we would spend in Kyrgyzstan, but I didn't expect to love it. And I did love it. A week was too little time to spend in such a beautiful place. I'm hoping to make it back south of the border before my time in Central Asia ends, maybe to stroll through the walnut forests of the south, or to spend some more time in the mountains.

I guess what I'm trying to say, dear reader, is if you ever find yourself in Central Asia, give Kyrgyzstan a chance. It's a small country, but it has a lot to offer the adventurous traveler. Getting a visa is no problem, crossing the border by land is only slightly terrifying, and the people are warm and welcoming.


COMING SOON! Stay tuned for pictures of my Kyrgyzstan trip. They'll be posted as soon as the internet cooperates.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

The Landlady and the End of the Dream Apartment

I have sad news to report, dear reader. The era of the dream apartment is coming to a close. For those of you that know, I spent much of the spring looking for the perfect apartment, and thought I had finally found it. I moved in in June, and have loved the freedom of living alone. My landlady, however, stomps all over this freedom every time she stops by. Here is a prime example:

Setting: Thursday evening, 7pm
Place: My humble abode
Characters: Me, The Landlady (LL)


The house phone rings, I run to answer it.
LL: Hi Katie. Um. How are you?
Me: I'm fine, and you?
LL: Good, good. ….. My daughter is coming into town tomorrow with her child and very large bags. She'll have very large bags with her and it will be difficult for her to get home, so she needs to stay in the city. And she will have her child, and very large bags. Lots of luggage. Very large bags.
Me: I understand, she can stay here with me. It's alright.
LL: No, you don't understand... We will stay in the apartment, and you will find somewhere else to stay. I'm sure it won't be a probably. We will arrive at noon tomorrow, so you will have to be gone by then. Oh, and you need to remove all of your personal items from the apartment and put them in the closet. Very good, good bye.
Me: …....


Also, it turns out she lied to me when I moved in and the heating actually doesn't work. This is a problem. Clearly it's time to move out. I will miss the beautiful washing machine, and the lovely pull-out sofa bed, and the luxuriousness of having 2 large rooms completely to myself, but I will not miss her shenanigans.

More on my summer travels soon!

Tuesday, October 11, 2011

Summer Adventures, PART 3

The Epic Travel Adventures of One Peace Corps Volunteer in the Summer of 2011
(or What I've Been Doing For The Last Month) – PART 3



So before I tell you anymore, take a look at our trek itinerary.

3-Day Jailoo Hopping Trek to Song Kul
Day 1: In the morning transfer to Kyzart pass, where your tour will start. The Kyzart pass offer first shepherd’s yurt where you can stop for lunch. After lunch in Kyzart, head south to the Jumgal mountains range. Follow the horse way cross Kyzyl-Kiya jailoo, an enormous, relatively flat sea of grass. Continue over the Chaar-Archa Pass (3061 m) into the Chaar-Archa Valley, with views of holy 4400 m Baba-Ata Mountain. Sated, ford the river and follow the trail over verdant hills to Kilemche Jailoo. The name means “like a carpet,” and this swathe of grass covers whole mountain ranges, with shadings as subtle as any shyrdak. Dine and sleep in the yurt.

Day 2: After breakfast at Kilemche, spend the morning climbing to Jalgyz Karagai pass (3300 m), over the Song-Kol mountains and into the lake’s basin. The morning climb affords wonderful views of Kilemche jailoo,and the pass itself is rocky and exciting. From the pass, Song-Kol is still distant, but as you traipse down the slopes, it gets larger and larger, the mountains on the other side get higher and higher, until finally the lake fills most of your field of view and the southern mountains tower above it. After lunch at Jaman Echki, follow the lakeshore east for an hour to the CBT yurt at Batai Aral. Upon arrival meet your host family of Kyrgyz shepherds. Spend a day-time at the lakeside. Watching and / or participation in everyday life of shepherds: milking mares; making national milk products like kymyz (a fermented mare’s milk) or airan (a sour dense milk product); tending cattle. Eat a delicious dinner here, stroll along the lakeshore, and hope the legendary Song-Kol weather is kind. Meals and overnight is in a yurt.

Day 3: After a refreshing and well-earned rest at Batai Aral and breakfast, spend the morning at the lake. After a final lunch in the yurt, transfer to Kochkor village, 3 hours. Dinner and overnight stay at CBT home stay.



The next day we got up bright and early morning to a breakfast of fresh tomatoes and cucumbers, eggs, homemade bread and apricot jam, and tea. It was delicious, and the perfect start to our trip. We set out with our amused local driver and our silent guide named Batyr (“warrior”) for Kyzart Pass, where we would pick up our horses and begin our trek. It was a 2 hour drive along unpaved roads in a Lada (this is the exact model, though our vehicle was ancient) and we were happy when it was over. We arrived at a large sign next to the road that declared “Kyzart” and a semi-cirlce of what looked like metal gypsy wagons selling gas, water, and snacks. A man and his son were tying three horses up near the sign, and soon came over to fasten our packs to the saddles. Without any introduction to horseback riding, any safety precautions, or any recommendations, we were told to “get on” and began on our way.

The ride was cold and I was glad I had brought long underwear and my fleece. We were pretty high up in the mountains, and with no trees to block the wind it was chilly. We rode in single file across wide grassy pastures as Batyr told us the names of different mountains, pastures and rivers. We were finally amongst the Kyrgyz jailoos, or summer mountain pastures, where the traditionally nomadic people still returned every summer with there flocks. We passed yurts and small summer huts along with horses, cows and sheep all brought to the mountains from nearby villages to graze. The scenery was amazing, there's no better word to describe. We rode for hours without seeing another human, passing meadows of alpine flowers. Despite my lack of any previous horse knowledge, riding wasn't too difficult, though it was every bit uncomfortable as you would imagine. After a 5-ride we reached the Kilemche Jailoo, and the yurts that would house us for the night.

The family that hosted us has worked for CBT for a few years, offering food and yurt space to passing trekkers. We got acquainted through broken Russian and attempts at Kyrgyz with our hosts, a large family from a nearby town. The daughter-in-law Nazgul had recently married into the family and was now taking on the traditional role of the daughter-in-law, that of housekeeper, cook, farm hand, and child minder. We ate delicious freshly baked bread with jam, drank tea, and watched the family members milk the horses. After dinner we played traditional Kyrgyz games akin to Duck Duck Goose and capture the flag (though this version involved a sheep bone and yelling things in Kyrgyz) before falling asleep amongst CBT guides in our yurt.

Monday, October 10, 2011

Summer Adventures, PART 2

There's no excuse this time, dear reader, for the absence of recent blog updates, except for shenanigans on my part. So I'm making a vow to finish the story of my summer travels, update you on the work sitch, and write a bit about my recent adventure in Europe, all this week. I swear! For real! So fasten your seat belt, dear reader, this time I mean business.


The Epic Travel Adventures of One Peace Corps Volunteer in the Summer of 2011
(or What I've Been Doing For The Last Month) – PART 2


So like I said, my traveling companion and I rise bright and early and head to the oasis that is “Fatboys” for some pre-travel sustenance. Now “Fatboys” is a place of pure magic and wonder on the main drag in Bishkek. It was about a 35 minute walk from our hostel, but the 35 minutes were well worth it. Our trusty Lonely Planet travel guide describes it as: “A prime foreigners' hang-out, especially at breakfast with fresh juices, fruit teas, hash browns, bacon, eggs, yogurt, muesli and pancakes. If only the staff weren't so morose.” Morose wait staff or not, American breakfast was a welcome treat after 9 months of the sub-par morning meal that Kazakhstanis throw together. We basked in the glory of iced coffees and cheap hashbrowns and browsed the Lonely Planet for tourist companies offering horse treks to Song-Kul, a sacred lake high in the Tien Shan Mountains. We finished breakfast, and headed the bus station to find transportation to Kochkor.

As luck would have it, just as we arrived at the bus station a marshrutka (mini-bus) with two spots left was departing for the Kochkor region. We shoved our hiking packs into the back, squished into seats among grandmothers toting bags of goods from the bazaar and men in track suits, and set off southwards. After a 4-hour ride through beautiful dusty mountains we arrived in Kochkor, population: not many . We hauled our packs out of the marshrutka, watched it drive away, and looked around, not quite sure what to do next. By this time it had started raining and the streets were quickly emptying as the usual loiterers around the town square headed to their cars or cafes to escape the rain. As we dug around in our bags to try to find our trusty Lonely Planet which would surely lead us to the warm and welcoming arms of the CBT – Community Based Tourism – agency's office. As we struggled with our luggage and the rain, an ancient Kyrgyz man in a tradition felt hat sidled up, eyed our luggage, and hoarsely mumbled “CBT?”. We nodded. Apparently accustomed to dealing with wayward, white travelers, he directed us further down the road, and went on his way. We found our way to the CBT office to discuss trek options with the CBT coordinators and find a place to stay for the night.

We arranged to do a 3-day “Jailoo-Hopping” horse trek (more on this later) that would begin the next day. We shelled out some American dollars, as there was no credit card machine and the nearest ATM was an hour away, and made arrangements to spend the night with a local family. Community Based Tourism is a great organization that works throughout Kyrgyzstan to employ local families in the tourism industry. They find local families to host travelers, supply horses, share their yurts, and act as trek guides. They made all of the arrangements for our trek, and we couldn't have been any more pleased with our choice in travel company.

Map in hand, we trudged along the muddy unpaved roads to our host's house to unload our packs and find some dinner. We were hosted by a wonderfully happy Kyrgyz woman, her mid-20s daughter, and 1-year-old grandson. The daughter spoke minimal Russian, but most of our communication with our host was through gestures and miming. Our room was neat, comfortable, and warm, and at $8 a night it was just perfect. We headed out to find dinner – fried lagman and local beer – before turning in. The driver would be by at 9am the next morning to take us to the mountain pass that would serve as the starting point of our trek.