Central Asia VI: Yurtmakers and Red Rock Canyons

October 13, 2021 was a long day of driving, from Karacol along the south side of Lake Issy-Azul to Bishtek.  Our first stop was Broken Heart Gorge, located 25 kilometers outside of Karacol.  Jeti Oguz Canyon is known for its red sandstone cliffs.  Broken Heart Gorge got its name from being where two suitors killed each other in a struggle for a beautiful woman, who then died of a broken heart herself.  The area had the look of Southern Utah, except that there were green pine trees and green bushes growing against and around the red sandstone formations. 

Each town has its mosque, often with a shiny, tin roof.

Dave, Mike, and I began hiking to the top of a rather steep hill at the end of the canyon, to get a better view.  Mike sprang easily to the top of the hill, but Dave and I plodded along. “I could easily have done this hike just five years ago,” Dave said ruefully.

 The view from the top of the hill was, indeed, spectacular, with white mountains on one side, red cliffs accented by green trees on another, and a small village far below.  There was an old Russian sanitorium in the village.  Fahrod told us that, during Soviet days, workers could apply to take their vacations anywhere in the Soviet Union.  His grandparents took vacations in Georgia and even in European Russia.  This village with the sanitorium would have been one such vacation site.

As we drove through the village and back to the main road, we stopped at the WWII war memorial.  Many, or even most, villages have such a memorial.  We were shocked at the number of names of soldiers who died in WWII, just from that village and its surrounding area, and at the number of names of local soldiers who died in the 1979-1986 war in Afghanistan. Forhad said that many of the soldiers who fought in Afghanistan were from Tajikistan and Kyrgystan because the Soviet army wanted soldiers who were used to living in the mountains.  Afghanistan is also a rugged, mountainous land.

Russian war memorials always include statues of grieving women.

We had lunch in a local family’s home in Bokonbaevo, a town by the blue lake.  The food at local homes and guest houses has been uniformly excellent.  We were served a marinated carrot salad, a traditional vegetable beef soup, and a platter of layers of meat, potatoes, and vegetables which had been steamed for several hours into flavorful tenderness.

Our next stop was at Kyzyi-Tuu, the yurt-maker’s village.  We spent half an hour or so with a man who makes several yurts per year, in addition to farming. Most of the yurts are full-size—20 to 35 feet in diameter—although he was recently commissioned, by a Saudi businessman, to make six miniature yurts for the man’s children!  

We watched as the yurt-maker showed us the poplar logs from which he cuts the yurt stakes; the way he splits them with an ax, shaves off the bark, and bends the flexible wood for the circular yurt; the natural pigments he uses to color the stakes and prevent them from insect damage; and the way in which he bends and cuts larger pieces of wood for the round smoke hole cover.  

A well-made yurt, we were told, can last 100 years or more.  The going price is $3000.  The yurts are used as lodgings during the summer months as the herders take their sheep into the foothills.  Of course, the Chinese in Xinjaing are now making metal yurts in factories!

One luxury of our personal tour was that we could tell the guide to stop whenever we wanted to take pictures.  This Moslem graveyard was both lonely and evocative.  

We also stopped by the shore of the intensely blue lake.  It was surrounded by white mountains on both sides, with brilliant orange and red fruit trees in the foreground.  Autumn has come to this corner of the world.

Our guide and driver have both been excellent!