Hoofin' it through Kyrgyzstan
In which Iulia and Aseef look back on all the goats, horses, eagles and cows that they interacted with (willingness and enthusiasm varied... wildly).
We were so excitedย to start trekking in Central Asia. We wanted to see big, beautiful mountains and set foot on the steppes of Kyrgyzstan. I had never visited this region before, and Aseef only saw the mountains of neighboring Afghanistan from a distance. Since we're traveling for a whole year, we wanted to climb every mountain1!
Friends and family probably had the most questions about our itinerary when it came to Kyrgyzstan. Aseef is so excited to tell them of the wilderness of this country that we got to enjoy โ hiking around and feeling like you have an entire mountain to yourself! Like, really, it was just us. Us and the cows.
The hills are alive, with the sound of moo-ing2, if you will. Out East, next to the Tian Shan Mountains, bordering China, the cattle own the mountains. So much so, that the land has settled around generations and generations of hoofed feet beating out to pasture, so that the steppes look tiered. You'd think the hills here are spanned with deep roots. Veins in the earth. Something that naturally grew out of the earth, to tier the slopes into intersecting paths.
But no. The patterns are made from more than a thousand years of cows, sheep and goats being trotted back and forth across them. The Epic of Manas, the longest Kyrgyz epic poem, is about the warrior that guided his Kyrgyz khanate to grow and guard its herds, including taking them to pasture over the Tian Shan Mountains into China. And all the greatness that ensued as he and his sons made sure that their people (and their herds) thrived.
We spent almost a month in Kyrgyzstan, right at the end of the off-season in September, and as soon as we left the capital of Bishkek, we laughed as all the drivers around us honked at all the animals taking up the road. Sheep and cows crowded every lane as a shepherd tried and tried to get them all to cross. A cow once kicked our bumper, but to be fair, we were tailgating. One driver swore that domesticated animals outnumbered Kyrgyz citizens 3-to-1.
There are a lot of animals being raised for their meat. Luckily for me, it was not super seasoned meat. Totally unprepared am I to face a world of spice. Timid and shy and scared am I of things beyond my bites3 โ which are delightfully mild in Kyrgyzstan, by the way. The spiciest thing I ate was loaded with fresh-squeezed garlic, which I adored. But even if the cows and chickens and sheep will eventually end up in monty (dumplings) or besh barmak, they are well-cared for until then.
We saw a few young boys โ even a teenage girl, once โ guiding animals down dusty roads back to their villages. If you visit during the height of summer, many of the animals are kept out to pasture. High on the hill is the lonely goatherd, but when the weather begins to cool and most yurts are being broken down for the season, they return with their flocks, sometimes causing great traffic on stretches of highway.
I did learn that I am afraid of cows. When cows are allowed to graze in the wild, they grow big horns. Even the females. And, well, cows are massive. When you see them going about their business on a mountain, you might think twice about crossing them. Noโฆ I might think twice about it though. I waited on a big rock for 20 minutes pretending I really wanted to draw some tree, hoping and hoping that a giant cow with sharp looking horns moved off of my path. Aseef pointed out that even the smallest children are unflapped by these โgentleโ giants. We did see four-year-old Ramzan run up during our lunch with his family to slap a cow on the hind and shoo them away from our picnic. But I am not embarrassed at being spooked more than that four-year-old. At least not enough to re-evaluate my comfort zone.
Being frightened of animals might be unthinkable here, but even more unlikely is to be frightened of horses. We were laughing with a few women that felt uneasy riding horses as part of a peace caravan ceremony โ to be Kyrgyz and feel uncomfortable on horseback is the same unthinkable wrong as to be German and hate beer. Sure, those people exist and itโs their prerogative to lead their own lives, but people will just keep offering you different horses that you might like to ride instead.
Aseef and I rented horses for a short ride to a glacier lake, 2 hours outside of Bishkek. There's lots of tourism infrastructure set up to rent horses, and to go on guided rides for multiple days. That may be a newer thing โ we met someone at the airport who loves coming to Kyrgyzstan, has been coming here for 20 years, and he said that when he started off, it was cheaper to buy a horse and then sell it back rather than try to navigate some sort of short term rental agreement. Well, I count myself lucky I didn't have to take care of that horse. I hated that horse.
Turns out a "short ride" up and down a mountain through a forest in Kyrgyzstan is not a few of my favorite things. The lake was incredible โ I'm so glad I saw that turquoise water with my own eyeballs. The glacier shifts/grinds rocks into a fine silt of minerals, resulting in the vivid color. But getting there took forever. And it's not Edvard's fault (Edvard was my horse's name). He required a more experienced rider than me. And he worked really hard. Our short ride was around five hours. And both of us worked up quite the sweat navigating brambles, boulders and hefty tree trunks.
I don't wanna brag, but I never fell off the horse. Though that was really just by the grace of some antigravity gods that took pity on me. Ducking under tree branches while the horse was descending a steep path was... troublesome.
And I learned that it's poor form to train horses to run back when there's home in sight. Apparently, you must go reeeal slow right up to the end of the ride, otherwise the horses are taught to just hurry back as soon as they recognize โhome.โ My horse certainly knew where we were going when we got back to the road, andโฆ well, I had a rough go of my horse ride.
I am happy I went. But, you know, if you were to go with my level of (non)experience to try this out yourself, better beware, be canny and careful - baby, you're on the brink4! (Of falling off a mountain).
Weโre Soaring, Flying
We saw so many animals in Kyrgyzstan. But there is one animal I felt very invested in seeing. With Internet access and too much time on my hands in high school, I was super keen on the Mongolian Golden Eagle. Thereโs so much insane footage of an eagle being sent out by a horseman to take down a wolf or coyote โ or wild eagles playing with their prey, pulling an ibex or a doe, a deer, a female deer5, off a jagged cliffside.
Iโve claimed the Mongolian Golden Eagle as my Patronus โ fiercely protective of the people it loves, very intelligent, and just gosh-darn beautiful. I mean, I even grew up watching โThe Rescuers Down Under,โ a Disney sequel that had 2 scenes of a small boy riding on the back of a golden eagle โ and as I write this, I am filled with such intense nostalgia and adrenaline, that I am making myself cry a bit. Anyway. Strong memories. Golden eagles are badass. AND I knew that the traditional training and raising of the eagles is done in Central Asia. When I realized Kyrgyzstan is known for the same type of training, I saw a way to make my dreams come true. (Although, no, I have yet to ride on the back of one of these majestic creatures).
The golden eagles Iโd watched tear wolves apart with their talons were apparently all female: they are bigger in size than the males, and more shrewd and vicious in their hunting. The trainers raise the lady-eaglets to maturity (about 20 years). Talgat, the trainer that met us, was born into this tradition, being taught by his father. His son was currently learning from him. He knew of one woman in Mongolia who is currently training eagles, and some girls are also called to the vocation, but the traditional trainers are typically dudes.
The four-year old eagle he brought out is technically old enough to do some serious hunting: Tunuk could take down a fox, maybe even a wild dog. But itโs dangerous going after pack animals, and Talgat would never let his baby girl do that kind of hunting - at least not this winter! If I thought Americans are mad about parenting their pets, well, the cat moms and dog dads Iโve seen have nothing on Talgatโs devotion.
Aseef and I were allowed to hold Tunuk on our forearms, and we were taught some cues for the hooded bird to spread its wings. Talgat didnโt need to keep her hooded. Nor did he always wear the thick gauntlet when handling her. He is, in effect, recognized by Tunuk as her father. And she may be getting close to her teenage phase as an eagle, but even teen angst wouldnโt drive her to dig her talons into him. Tunuk is so close to her trainer that she wouldnโt bite him even when gobbling down all the food he hands to her. Growing kids have big appetites. Aseef and I did not feed Tunuk. Honestly, she just broke off a bone from a treat so easily, we were a little intimidated.
Tunuk has a few paths forward. Talgat might choose to lend her out or hunt with her once she is fully trained. He plans to release her into the wild when she is 20 years old, and she may live as a free eagle until she is 50 or 60. On occasion, she might visit him when she's older. Sheโs lucky: sheโs not being raised to be a sedated prop for picture taking the way some falcons and eagles are for tourist attractions. Or, well, sheโs lucky sheโs not being hunted for her feathers or eggs or something else inscrutable that poachers value. And we are lucky too. Talking to her โdad,โ getting to see her soar from a mountain to her prey, getting to touch her impossibly soft feathersโฆ these are a few of my favorite things6.
It's come to my attention that Aseef has never seen โSound of Music,โ and thus I'm forced to make half a dozen references to the movie throughout. I'm sorry he did this to you.
Again, Iโm sorry he did this to you.
I will now be accepting praise for this one. I mean, itโs a doozy. Itโs half the refrain!
If you are Sarah Gallo, or have a similarly high familiarity with โThe Sound of Music,โ this is dedicated to you just as much as it is dedicated to trying to make some sort of point to Aseef.
If youโre feeling frustrated by this point, I wish there was anything I could do to help, but again, itโs not up to me. Itโs up to Aseef, to see โThe Sound of Music,โ though he claims to know this reference.
Sorry, not sorry.