Tuesday, July 13, 2004

Where eagles soar (part 1)

There were three of us in all, eco-volunteers that is. The first was Cameron, a 26 year old New Zealander who had been teaching English in Korea but is now on his way to Europe via central Asia (overland!) - a true nomad if ever there was one. The next was Issy, a 52 year old German woman, who works as a teacher in northern Germany. And of course, the last was me, a 27 year old, computer geek from Sydney, who works as little as possible.

Our team also included a translator, Svetlana (Russian for 'moonlight'). Svetlana was a 22 year old Kyrgyz girl and the definition of cute. She was the tiniest, most petite girl I have ever met - small enough to fit in your pocket. Also with us was our field expert, a 57 year old Kyrgyz mountain man. Seitkaze (who we called 'Sid' to make life easier and because really, he looked like a Sid) was a stocky little man, who had lived in the mountains for 25 years and had the traditional moustache and funny Kyrgyz hat to prove it.

Other people appeared along the journey, in various roles (as well as shapes and sizes) but this was our core team of explorers. We met on the Sunday at the designated time before heading off in a mini-bus (after a few hours delay that is - nothing happens on time here). Our first camp site was on the shores of the great mountain lake of Issyk-Kul. Issyk-Kul is a huge expanse of water (the Russians once had navy vessels on it, in the glory days of the USSR) nestled between two huge mountain ranges. The water is warm enough to swim (but only just), and we spent two days here getting used to the altitude, relaxing, swimming and soaking up the general ambiance of the surrounds.

We slept in traditional yurt tents as promised (in Kyrgyz, a yurt is called a 'bosi'). To call a bosi a tent is a bit like calling a Harley-Davidson a bicycle. They are huge structures, usually about 7 or 8 meters in diameter and 3 or 4 meters high at the peak. They have a wooden frame - lattice at the base, and wooden poles leading to the peak. At the top is a heavy wooden ring, a bit like the wheel off an old fashioned wagon. This ring is the symbol of Kyrgyzstan, and is used on their flag. With the poles leading into it, it looks like the sun with rays coming out of it.

It was a comfortable camp, the food was excellent - delicious and fresh. There was sweet bread with fresh cream and jam made from mountain berries. Breakfast was either a delicious porridge (yes, it's true, porridge can actually taste good) or a fresh but tangy yoghurt. The facilities were surprisingly civilized as well. Rather than squatting in the bushes as expected, there was a little pine hut nestled in the bushes. Inside was a standard old-fashion bog hole, but a nice pine seat had been built over the top of it, and it even had a lid!

Nature surrounded us. To the north loomed the 'mountains of sunlight' where we were soon to start work. Across the lake, to the south, lay the 'mountains of shadow'. We soon discovered however that the 'nature' wasn't just on the far off horizon. When heading to bed, Issy noticed a movement under her sleeping bag, she lifted it up to discover a beige and white snake, maybe half a meter long, casually sliding along her mattress. Naturally she did what any sane person would do in this situation - she dropped the sleeping back and legged it from the Bosi.

The boys, of course, were called in to clear it out. Why they thought we would be any less afraid of a bloody great slithering snake, I don't know. Our field expert had disappeared for the night (I assume off to a neighbouring camp to catch up with friends) so we also had no idea if this snake was poisonous or not. Standing at the edge of the Bosi, using two-meter long sticks we pushed aside the blankets until at last the snake appeared. We hadn't really worked out what we would do once we found it. In the end we decided to move out all the gear and relocate Issy and Sveta. The bosi would belong to the snake this night.

Back in our own Bosi, Cam and myself, now just a tad paranoid, decided it was vital to check every nook and cranny. We pulled all the gear apart and searched under every mattress. At one point, Cam leapt about 3 meters into the air when he felt something round and long under the blanket he was standing on. With long sticks we pushed aside the blanket to reveal ... a candle. Of course, we knew it was a candle all along, we weren't afraid in the slightest. Definitely not.

The next day, Sid returned with the information that the snake was a harmless water snake that had come looking for somewhere warm to sleep. He confirmed that the candle was also not in anyway poisonous.

We relocated to our work camp, a few hours drive along a dirt track into the 'mountains of sunlight'. Here again we were in Bosis, however this time we were the only camp in sight. The setting was spectacular, and in many ways resembled the European Alps. Fir trees lined the mountains on all sides, and a frothing white stream, with ice-cold water, zig-zagged its way through the valley.

Sid gave us our first task. The week before, he had found the 'stool' (strangely, one of the few English words Sid knew) of a fox and of a badger. Now it was our task to extract the elements of interest from the stool to get an idea of the animals' diets. So it was that the three of us and Sid, with great enthusiasm, huddled around a pile of stale shit, picking out half digested insects. The high point was definitely when we discovered parts of the rotten carcass of a mouse amongst the shit!

The next day we went on our first real hike. Sid took the lead, with the three of us in tow. Sveta, who I had thought might struggle with the hiking, flittered up and down the line, chatting and joking like some sort of little forest sprite. Sid is bird-mad and he got very excited with every new winged discovery. To be honest most of the birds looked the same to me, but Sid was happy.

At one point, Issy discovered wild strawberries growing in a field full of finchs (or somesuch). Sid was excited by the find, glad to discover why the birds were spending so much time there. He was not as glad as us however. We munched away happily on the tiny, soft fruits - the sweet juice was ecstasy to the mouth. We had to drag Sveta away in the end, or else she would have spent the rest of the day crouched amongst the grass picking at strawberries, like some sort of tiny exotic mountain finch herself.

The camp where we stayed was run by a traditional Kyrgyz family, who kept cows and horses. It was a summer camp only, allowing the animals to feed on the spring grass. In winter they move back down to the low lands to escape the snow (the way Kyrgyz people have done for centuries). There were no fences up there, so the animals are allowed to wander during the day. In the evening the two lads working there (one 13 and the other probably in his early 20's) ride out and round them up and bring them back to the camp. Myself and Cam also each had a couple of goes on the horses as well.

Our next task was to carry salt into the mountains to leave for the animals to eat in winter. With humans encroaching on their territory, the animals were running out of natural sources for salt. The walk was a fairly difficult one, along stony ridges, and we had to cross the river several times (sometimes by leaping from stone to stone, sometimes on trees that had fallen across it). It was not overly tiring though, as we stopped many times (every time Sid saw a bird) and moved very slowly. Issy kept good pace, though I think the river crossings were a little tough for her. Sveta, again flittered along beside us, apparently out on a pleasant stroll.

After some four or so hours we reached the top of the tree line. The stony ridges gave way to rolling grassy hills, full of spring flowers. Here we ate lunch by a small mountain pond, the sun was warm and it was a generally pleasant day. Not so very far away, however, we could see snow capped peaks and black rock cliffs. We questioned Sid on these, and were informed that this was the land of the ibex and the snow leopard. The animals we had come in search of. I could see in Cam's eyes, the same fire that was in mine. This is where we wanted to be and soon.

We dropped off our salt and returned to the camp. The next day was a rest day, though we each headed off on our own individual explorations through the mountains. Spectacular views were present at every turn in the road, and at every hill top. Below, to the south, was the sprawling blue of Issyk-Kul with its little camps, and occasional towns littered around it. To the east and west were endless mountains of green fields and fir trees. And up, up there where the wind threw the snow from rocky peak to peak, up there was an icy wild land of mystery daring us to discover its secrets.

The following day our task was to chop grass (using a rough old hand sickle) into bundles and hang it from the trees. These bundles were for the deer, who in winter would have trouble finding food without venturing into the dangerous terrain of Man in the valleys below. We had to push some way into the forests, off the main tracks, so that the grass would not be found and eaten by the fat, lazy cows wandering about the place. It was not a difficult task however, and we were finished and back at the camp by lunch.

So far the work had been interesting and rather fun, but it was not yet the true task we had signed up for. Cam and I were beginning to feel a little frustrated. We were hoping to be up in the land of the leopard, looking for it's tracks, following it's prey for clues. We were not so naive that we expected to see a snow leopard. We knew they were elusive creatures and virtually impossible to see even when sitting only a few meters away. What we wanted however, was to walk in their domain, to understand a little about them, and in some way gather information that could be used to help them. No self respecting snow leopard would come anywhere near the cosy little camp we were in now.

At dinner that night, we were told that the next day would be a free day again to relax. Not impressed, and in an effort to discover when we would be 'up top', we questioned Sid on the work to come. "Take salt. Look birds. Plenty jobs. No problem". This was not what we wanted to hear. Issy too was surprised that the focus was so far removed from snow leopards and their prey. Cam and I decided it was time to take matters into our own hands. We had seen some tents in the back of one of the bosis. Through Sveta, we asked if the two of us could hike up the path Sid had shown us, camp up there, in the grassy field. Then the next day we would hike to the snow and look for tracks and stool in the mountains. We would return to our tent the following night, and hike back down the following day.

Sid was not impressed and a long and uncomfortable debate followed. The tents were pulled out and examined. Sid, in an angry tone of voice, kept telling us (through Sveta, who was now in the middle of it all) that it would be too cold, we would be hungry, it was impossible, it was too far. Cam and I had hardly expected this reaction, it was barely a few hours slow hike to the camping spot, we could carry all we needed. It seemed to us not a problem at all. Sid was adamant however. In the end we gave up. Sid got his way, but instead we asked if the two of us could hike up to the peak for reconnaissance the next day and then come back late in the evening. Even with this plan, Sid was not happy, though neither Cam nor myself could work out why. Surely this was the job we were all here to do, including Sid?

In the end Murbik (the older of the two lads working at the camp) piped up and said he had hiked up there before, that it could be done and that he would take us up. We would leave at 7am, take lunch and be back by 9pm. We prepared our day packs and went to sleep. Sid, who we shared a bosi with, now seemed a little cold towards us.

The next morning we were up and on our way. It was a glorious sunny day, and all thoughts of Sid and the troubles were left behind at the camp. Murbik led the way, and his three dogs raced along side us. Murbik set a cracking pace, though watching him, he moved casually, as though taking a slow stroll. We headed in the same direction as we had with Sid on our first salt hike, though Murbik took us on a slightly different path that was a little shorter and also avoided most of the river crossings. We reached the spot that we had with Sid in under an hour. This hike had taken four hours with Sid. It was barely 8am and we were at the spot where we were planning to camp.

Cam and I were now really confused as to what all the fuss had been about. We were still willing to give Sid the benefit of the doubt however. The snow capped mountains were still some way off in the distance. Maybe reaching them would be more difficult than it looked. We carried on without stopping. Within another hour we were through the grassy fields and at the base of the black cliffs. Here the terrain changed again and became less friendly. The path became quite steep and was covered with loose shale and unstable stones. We stopped for a snack and a drink, before continuing at a slower pace.

The next hour was tough, and exhausting. We were now moving steadily up hill, ploughing through soft snow that might either hold you, or might give way, letting you sink to your waist. I was feeling it more than Cam, and had to stop to catch my breath often. The dogs however, leapt past, skittering up and down, mocking me with their endless energy. Ahead Murbik strolled casually on. Maybe Sid was right, maybe this was too far, it was only 11am and I was exhausted. But the peaks were within spitting distance, there was no way I was giving up now.

And then we were there. We were at the top, Murbik pointed to the cliffs around us and said something, then made a tiger-like motion. We had no translator but we didn't need one - we had entered the leopards' domain. It had been barely a three hour hike. A hard one for sure, but definitely not the impossible task that Sid had declared it to be. Had we woken later had a solid breakfast and then taken it a little slower we could still have been here by lunch time and not been exhausted. What was Sid on about?

We ate lunch and rested for a while. Then we spread out and looked around. We were searching for tracks or stool or anything, but we had no scientist with us so it was a difficult task. We spent a good couple of hours searching. We picked mountain flowers for the botanist who was down at base camp. Strangely, there were many orange butterflies, an unexpected site in this snowy land. We found marmot holes, and the track of one goat - I took a photo with my digital camera to show Sid. Overhead a huge eagle soared silently passed, tracking our progress. It was a magical place, and all around the mountains loomed.

We decided it was time to head home, but not directly. There had been a mountain lake some way off to the east of the trail we had taken. We decided to check this out on the way down. It was a beautiful little lake, on three sides it was surrounded by steep, snow covered peaks, streams trickled into it from melting snow. On the east side, one of the large streams formed a little waterfall, bouncing from the white snow, off the black rocks and then trickling down into the pale icy lake below. This view alone had been worth the hike for me.

Naturally, the journey down was easier than the journey up. Though it required extra attention on the rocky bits to avoid injury. Even so we made very good time, and we were back at camp well before 5pm. We had hoped this might reassure Sid somewhat and that might encourage more expeditions up top. Unfortunately not. Sid was still grumpy and wasn't interested in knowing anything about the trip north. Even the goat track we had found and photographed was shrugged off and forgotten about. Ah Sid, could it be that you were just too comfortable down here and this has all been to avoid any real exertion on your behalf?

The next day the weather was poor, it rained for most of the day. We spent the time around camp helping out (or trying to) with the daily workings - chopping wood, milking cows, etc. I was, to be honest, glad of the rest, though not so glad to be in close quarters with Sid and his unpleasant mood. I had hoped that with our successful trip something might start happening, but it looked as though we were going back to our original plan of just salt carrying and bird watching. Issy however had managed to get word to Thorsten, and we was heading to the camp - we would see what he had to say.

Thorsten arrived. Picture the most German man you can. Not an old German man, perhaps on the young side of middle aged. Picture thick grey socks pulled up high, and at the same time picture black sandals. Now also picture shorts so short that even a professional rugby player would pipe up and say "Ah come on boss, these are a bit short aren't they?". Picture a black t-shirt with the face of a snow leopard printed on it, slightly curved out by a well rounded stomach. Picture all this on a backdrop of stark white skin, and throw in a swollen red nose as well (he had a cold). Now you've pictured Thorsten.

He was, to be honest, a decent bloke. We explained to him the situation, how the work we'd been doing differed from the work we had signed up for (Cam had luckily brought a print out of the project spec with him, which helped). He seemed surprised himself that we had not been doing our preferred work and he was apologetic. Perhaps sensing that we were on the verge of asking for some money back, he looked for a solution. He chatted with Sid, and with the few others in the camp and came back with a plan.

Myself, Cam, Sid and Murbik were to take horses along a different path, high up into the mountains to a place where the locals believed snow leopards lived. We would be out for three days, and then come back to this camp for one night. For our last two days with the project we would be transferred to the Rehabilitation Center back down near Issyk-Kul. Here they had three injured snow leopards, and there was work there to be done in preparing for their move from the current small cage to a larger enclosure. Issy wisely decided not to go with us. She and Sveta would go to the Rehab center the following day and work there while we were up the mountain.

This sounded as good as could be hoped for, given the time we had left with the project. Sid seemed satisfied with it, now that Thorsten had explained it all to him. Maybe it had been a misunderstanding, maybe he wasn't aware of the project aims. Thorsten disappeared as quickly as he had come, Sid headed to the nearest town to organise supplies and Cam and I, a little happier now, packed our bags and prepared for our adventure.

... to be continued ...