Emblems/Coat of Arms of Central Asia

A thank you to the lovely comment on my flag post which made me remember that countries also have emblems or coats of arms.  I searched my memory for what the USA's was, and I could not remember it.  Of course when I saw it, I said, oh yeah, the Great Seal, bark bark bark...

You know, like a seal?  Bark?  Get it?

So I decided to mock up the emblems of the Central Asian nations.  Turns out that they're pretty awesome.

A word of explanation - They are in the same order as the flag graphic, with Kazakhstan at the top, Uzbekistan in the middle left, Kyrgyzstan in the middle right, Turkmenistan in the bottom left and Tajikistan on the bottom right.  All of these emblems except Kazakhstan have both cotton and wheat in them.  Cotton is an important part of the economy in these countries, whereas Kazakhstan has large oil/gas deposits.  Tajikistan's book is clearly a Quran and the sun/crown combination is, to me, vaguely reminiscent of the Qajar dynasty's seal from early 20th century Iran.  Both have the rising sun and a crown, although this one has a ninja lion.

Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan all have mountains and the horse or bird motif seems to be the way to go with Central Asian emblems. 

Preferences?

The Flags of Central Asia

I've always loved flags and maps.  Not sure why, maybe it was hours spent staring at the flag and map in school, trying to avoid learning anything.  I became a teacher to apologize for my attitude as a student.  And, to paraphrase the Trinidadian Bard, aka Slinger Francisco, aka The Mighty Sparrow "If I had paid attention in school, I'd be a block headed mule."

So, anyways, I mocked up this little graphic, it's rough but pretty.  I definitely have a favorite flag, but I won't reveal it yet.  The flags are, by the way, aligned roughly geographically.  But, if you don't like maps, I'll tell you which they are.  The top one is Kazakhstan.  The middle left is Uzbekistan and the middle right is Kyrgyzstan.  The bottom left is Turkmenistan and the bottom right is Tajikistan.

Which is your favorite?

Travel Warning! Alamedin Gorge

Our third hike of the season was to a different location.  Rather than a return to Ala Archa, we headed to nearby Alamedin Gorge.  It's not really any further by car, just a little to the west (I think?) in the same mountain range, the Ala Too, which is a branch of the Tian Shan Mountains.  Mountains which, as you well know, are also know as the Celestial Mountains.

Alamedin was a lot easier of a hike than the others we had done.  It was more of a gentle, constant uphill stroll than a steep ascent.  It might have been more beautiful than Ala Archa...but there were two problems with this hike...

1.  ANIMAL POOP EVERYWHERE!  This valley is one of the places people go horseback riding in - fine.  But it's also where people bring livestock to graze at a high altitude due to the cooler summer climate at this altitude (probably between 2100-2500 meters).  And grazing livestock eat a lot.  Animals that eat a lot, poop A LOT. Seriously, a lot.  The path was frequently fully saturated in animal waste.  It was fairly old poop and had lost its stink but, when you thought about it, you remembered you were still, about half of the time, walking through animal poop.

2.  THIS BRIDGE!  If you are related to me, do not look at these pictures.  You will think I am insane and scream at me for crossing this bridge.  No moms allowed.  Skip ahead moms.  And yes, we carried a two year old, on our backs, over this bridge.  It was character building for him.  For more pics of this, and other bridges, click this sentence...

Here the bridge is whispering to us, saying, "Come and see, come and see."

This charming bridge beckons to us, "Come closer.  Yes I really am made of pipes that sway when you cross them AND covered in a wire mesh that will barely support your weight.  But look how cool I am."

Convinced, we crossed as quicklyas we could.  Here Berndt kindly holds the bridge steady for Angie.

Angie negotiates the low and thin support wire and Josh, wisely, decides to film his crossing. Because why wouldn't you film this?  And yes, the bridge is a bit tilted.

Wow.  Looking at this pictures again, I can't believe we crossed the river here.  Valeri was our guide again and he basically waltzed across this bridge.  He did so without comment about the structure and his confidence imbued us with false confidence.  But, we all made it, or at least, we've blocked out the memory of the several people who fell off.

Then it was walky walk time and we strolled and walked up a slight slope.  Always going up, but always at a nice gentle slope in this broad and sunny valley.

Mike went to investigate this conceptual art rendering of a yurt.

And we walked for about 2 or 3 hours through this lovely landscape.

This stream marked the end of our forward progress.  I think we could have kept going quite a distance in this gorge, but we resisted the temptation to wander off and follow Przhevalsky.  There was very little shade on the hike, but near the river was a little copse of trees and we sat and had our lunch.  Actually, it seems like there was one tree, but it was a nice tree.  And, everyone else sat and had their lunch while my son and I played by the river.

The lunch spot was up on a hill a little and had a nice view.

And they ate while my son and I played in this stream.  My son is the restless variety of son, the kind that is in perpetual motion.  Even when he sleeps he flips and flops around.  So, I figured we could take off our socks and shoes - and his pants - and wade in here.  It's at most 3 or 4 inches deep and I figured that so shallow a stream at the end of summer/beginning of fall must be reasonably warm. It was not.  Within seconds we were both running out of the water screaming in pain.  If it were a cartoon, blocks of ice would have been frozen on our feet, little chunks flying left and right as we hopped up and down yelling.  For some reason though, we both kept going back in.  We perfected a method of scrambling up onto warm rocks in the middle of the stream.  And hopping on them and yelling and shaking the ice off our feet.  It was so painful and idiotic that it was fun.  Who doesn't want to have fun with a two year old in an icy mountain stream?

All fun must come to an end.  I ate while my wife repeated my folly in the icy river.  After lunch the final part of the hike was up to a nearby waterfall.  The waterfall was quite close, just a little bit further up the hill we lunched on and around a corner.  There was a sudden change from grassy plain to wooded glen.

And the last corner...

Behold the waterfall!  I'd put it at about 10 meters or 30 feet.  Maybe a little higher and clearly it was on the low flow side for the season.  Michelle decided to get up close to the falls with her fancy hiking poles.  The small little area by the falls was crowded, with maybe 20 people clustered in and around the falls.  They soon began to imitate Michelle's mountain goatery and we expected to see someone, perhaps a babushka or dadushka, come tumble down.  Fortunately they were all sure footed.  They probably could have even done it on horseback.

Here are some daredevils.

We sat and contemplated the falling water.

 Angie decided to show how tough she was by wading in the pool.  Can you see the pain on her face here?

And alas, it was time to go.  At least, when we have to leave the mountains, we're faced with a spectacular vista like this one.

On the way back, Valeri picked some late season berries.  Here's Michelle investigating some Barberries.

Valeri found two types of edible berries for us.  Both were pretty sore but neither killed us, so it only improved our view that Valeri is an Alpinist Extraordinary.  He was also a patient guide, for the third time, to a bunch of lollygaggers that slowed him down in his beloved mountains.  We appreciate him immensely.  This is Valeri and I walking ahead of the crowd.

And here is Karol, trying to slow Valeri down!  Hurry up Karol!

Mike, Michelle and I paused on the way back for a chocolate summit.  It was my tradition to eat an entire, or nearly entire, bar of Alpen Gold Hazelnut Chocolate.  Yummy fuel for a day's hike.

And back and back with everyone else leaving on a beautiful early evening in October.  This was the only hike where there were a significant amount of other people around on the trail.  They were lovely people that wanted to chat with us and we did so as we processed, progressed and egressed.

 And the shadows fell deep on us, and the sky loomed its bluer than blue above and we were undone, knowing that each autumn day would be shorter, each fall night would be colder and each step forward was another step away from here.

And of course, each step was one step closer to...
THE BRIDGE!  CRAP WE FORGOT THAT WE HAVE TO CROSS IT AGAIN!
We were a little smarter this time and enforced a "one person at a time" policy in order to keep the bridge from collapsing.

Here's Josh's crossing -

Goodbye Alamedinne, fare well.

Riding the Hippo

Begemot is our local fast food.  Homegrown, Bishkek fast food.  Begemot means Hippo in Russian.

At first I was really into it.  You can get a Gamburger ($1) or a Step Roll ($1.25) or Freets ($1).  Gamburger is - you guessed it! - a hamburger and a Step Roll is sort of a wrap/shwarma thing.  And freets are fries.  Well, most of us ex-pats here have at least one Begemot  food poisioning under our belts and it's been out of my rotation since September.

Shame, this location is right next to the amusement park and a five minute walk from both home and school.

 Two notes
1. Look at that bald dude.  He needs to pull it together.
2.  I have no idea what's going on behind Begemot on that wall.  I think the building is The National Drama Theater.

Travel Warning! Return to Ala Archa

This summer/fall we managed four hikes in the Tian Shan mountains.  This was the second one and by far the most strenuous.  We were thinking of making it back to the mountains before they become completely snowed in, but we may be too late, as the mountains are looking pretty snowy from here and there's been snow on the ground in the city for the last ten days.  In the summer, the mountains looked distant and were hard to see due to the leafy foliage of the city.  Now, the leaves of the city trees are gone and the mountains are coated in snow- they seem to be three or four times closer and hover over the city.

This second hike was also in Ala Archa National Park, but we took a different trail.  Together with a few friends, we hired a van and met in front of school.  The street in front of our school, called Abdymomunov, has hosted some pretty strange events during the year.  That Sunday, the day of this hike, was maybe the oddest...go-kart races!

Once we were all gathered and finished watching children race at high speed - one of the spectators told us that the karts go up to 170 km/hour - we piled in the van and bumped and bounced our way along the 30km/45 minute trip to the park.  The park is due south of the city and is an actual park - you pay an entrance fee at the gate and they, presumably, maintain the park.  The entrance fee for the car and nine of us was 900 soms or about $18.  After the gate, you continue another 5km or so in the car.  We passed by the trail we hiked before and came to end of the paved road by a weird hotel called the Alplager or something equally strange.  It's pictured later.  Then it was up and into the Celestial mountains.

It was a sunny warm day and we climbed up above the valley floor.  We were both a little further into the park when we started than we were during the last hike and on a different mountain altogether.  This valley was on our left during the Alpinist Graveyard Hike, on this hike, a.k.a. the hike of the Lost Waterfall, the valley was on our right.  Also, notice the effect of a single airplane;s con trail on the crystal clear sky.

The valley split and we took the left fork, climbing above a tumbling mountain stream.

We took a brief rest to admire the view.  Valery and Michelle found separate rocks to admire the world from.

Valery served as our guide on three of our hikes and is an amazing alpinist.  I think he draws strength from being in the mountains and, although he was the oldest among us, put us all to shame with his energy on these hikes.

We continued along our valley, heading towards the black stain on the far end of the valley - you can barely see it in this photo. It is a waterfall and was our ultimate target, although we were unsure if there was currently any water in it.  It's a glacial melt waterfall, and although the weather was still warm, it was not hot, so the glacial melt had slowed considerably.  It was one of those days where a you're warm in at-shirt in the sun, and cool in the shade with a light jacket on.  There was little shade on this hike though.

Always stopping to see the wildflowers along the way

And we climbed and hiked and climbed.  This was about an 8-10 hour hike...

About half way to our destination, we had to cross a rock slide

As the photographer, pictures of me are rare.  Here I am sneering at the little mountain stream that ran thru the rock slide.  "You call that burbling?"  I was heard to say.  And yes, the water was pure, freezing cold and drinkable.

Looking back, I swear the trail looked wider when we were on it...

Looking forward, that tiny ribbon of trail on the left didn't look too promising.  But we were in it to win it. Also, now do you see the black patch on the rocks in the distance?  Waterfall?

We found a nice shady spot to have lunch and feasted.  Nothing tastes quite like food in the mountains.  By this point, we had probably gone from Bishkek's 800m altitude to about 2,500m.  And actually, we always brought peanut butter and jelly.  It was pretty lackluster and everyone else brought nicer stuff, I think Valery had Kabuli raisins and Angie had something delicious and home made...good thing they shared with us!  Poor Karol, we made her a sandwich...

After lunch, I had a chance to go to the river we had been hiking above.  It wasn't very big, but it was super cold and super swift.  I complimented it on its cascad-iness.  And you can see from the rock debris level on these photos, just how high this gets in flood...

We mysteriously discovered some goat horns?  Maybe?  Marco Polo Sheep?

Mike, Michelle and I decided to go take a look for the waterfall, even though we were sure it was dry.

We started up the hill above our lunch spot.  Mike and Michelle leaping like gazelles up the stony path and myself, lumbering up, an out of breath elephant.

Here the altitude was really bothering me.  Each step set my heart pounding and thudding in my chest.  I'm not a fast runner, but I've played a lot of sports, run 10Ks and exercised a lot in my life...my heart never beat that fast or that hard.  Each step convinced me that it would explode.  Months later, writing this I can still remember that feeling - I can still hear it in my ears thudding, pounding.  I had to stop every 10 steps or so.  Which is fine, since I got to snap pictures for me to show you.

And I saw some kind of eagle.  Or maybe it was the angel of death, waiting for my heart to explode.  It's right in the center of the shot.

There was no clear way to the waterfall and after a brief conference we gave up on the idea and decided to follow the path we were on.  And this path went up and up and Mike and Michelle went up and up and I sat down a lot.  I feel that these pictures don't do the altitude, steepness and sheer above-ness of this path justice.  Going up was nearly like climbing a staircase or ladder.  I reached a certain point and I was finished.  Overcome.  It reminded me of a scene in Dharma Bums by Jack Keroauc.  There's a moment in the book, when the narrator, Smith is climbing a mountain and he's just about to the top.  He's suddenly overwhelmed by the experience and can't move up or down.  It's such an honest scene that it must have actually happened.
Keroauc wrote

""This is too high!" I yelled to Japhy in a panic...I nudged myself closer into the ledge and closed my eyes and thought "Oh what a life this is, why do we have to be born in the first place, and only so we can have our poor gentle flesh laid out to such impossible horrors as huge mountains and rock and empty space," and with horror I remembered the famous Zen saying, "When you get to the top of a mountain, keep climbing." The saying made my hair stand on end; it had been such cute poetry sitting on Alvah's straw mats. Now it was enough to make my heart pound and my heart bleed for being born at all."

Well, that's about what I felt.  There was more to it, something like a feeling that nothing could HOLD me down onto the mountain.  Not that I would fall, which was certainly possible, but that I would FLOAT right off the mountain into the vastness of blue sky.  Up, not down.  It was a moment that made me feel both absolutely tiny in relation to all but abnormally large and clumsy and foolish.  And it looked like this.

I stared into the face of God and flinched.  And then climbed down and said "Stop looking at me God!"  On the way down I passed a backpacker in flip flops with about 100 pounds on his back.  He didn't come back down the hill, so I'm assuming he floated away.

Mike and Michelle made it to the plateau and said it was nice.  I think they were trying to protect me and that there was a taco stand up there, because honestly, that's what heaven would look like to me.

And then it was the path home.  Slow, plodding.  Singing songs to my son strapped in an Ergo carrier to my back.  Plodding.  But you can't beat the vista.

I think I have over 700 photos from this hike alone.  It's hard not to post them all.  It's hard to write about it in a way that expresses the joy of the mountains here.  It feels almost blasphemous to try.

We got to back to where we started and said hey to the yurts.

And the weird hotel thing.

We walked a little bit more and saw some more prayer trees.

Spent some chillaxed times by an alpine glacial melt river.  Valery and my son jumped about like frogs.  It was hard to tell which had more energy.

And looked back to where we had been, what we had done.

And to top off a perfect day, Angie found some raspberries growing wild and shared them with us.

Goodbye Ala Archa.  We'll miss you.