Poking Around in Central Asia: Friday, October 24, 2014

Trip 2 - Part 3

Day Trip to the 'Source' of the Isfara River

by Craig Mains

Poking Around in Central Asia: Friday, October 24, 2014
Trip 2 - Part 3
Day Trip to the 'Source' of the Isfara River

by Craig Mains


Photo by Craig Mains

Day Trip to the 'Source' of the Isfara River
Isfara to Vorukh and back
The overnight rain had caused a transformation. The slight haziness that seemed constant, which I had concluded was suspended dust, was gone. The air was noticeably clearer, the sky was a deeper shade of blue, and the fall colors seemed a little more vibrant.

Even though I didn't sleep well, I was up early walking around in the vicinity of the guesthouse. The photo above is the end of the guesthouse where the men's quarters were located.


Photo by Craig Mains

A nearby rock outcrop as viewed from in front of the guesthouse in the morning light.


Photo by Craig Mains

There was a triangular-shaped flowerbed outside the front of the guesthouse. A woman came every morning to water the flowers, pick out the dead flowers, and hose down the sidewalk. Because of the rain overnight this was the first morning that she didn't come.

One afternoon when we came back from Isfara, there were hundreds, maybe thousands, of large moths that resembled Sphinx moths hovering around these flowers. Sergei and I had a long debate because he was convinced they were tiny hummingbirds. He was on the upstairs balcony having a smoke and I was on the sidewalk so I had a closer view. I finally convinced him they weren't hummingbirds because I could see their antennae. I took some photos but they moved their wings so fast they were just indistinct blurs. I've seen similar sphinx-like moths in the US but always singly or in pairs, never in a mass of hundreds.


Photo by Craig Mains

A view of the road that ran between the Water Users Association office and the guesthouse. The flow control facility would be behind the viewer, where this road deadends. On the right, not very visible, is the main canal that is diverted from the river by the facility. There are a few footbridges across the canal to access properties on the other side. Part of the tilted rock outcrop is visible at the end of the road. It is on the opposite side of the north-south main road leading to Isfara. The guesthouse is not visible but it is near the large willow tree visible in the distance on the left side of the road.


Photo by Craig Mains

A view from the porch of the WUA office building, where we again enjoyed a breakfast. These houses are on the other side of the Isfara River. The Tajiks pump water uphill to water plants around the homes so the vegetated zone is wider than it would be naturally if it were just the riparian area.


Photo by Craig Mains

This map shows the enclave of Vorukh, where Rustam was taking us for an outing. Vorukh is part of Tajikistan but is totally surrounded by Kyrgyzstan. The purple-colored dot (below the S in Tajikistan) is the approximate location of the city of Isfara. The orange dot at the southern tip of Tajikistan is the city of Chorku, where we made a stop. The blue dot within the enclave of Vorukh was our ultimate destination, which was a spring that Rustam said was the source of the Isfara River. (The other four enclaves in the area belong to Uzbekistan, although the Sokh enclave is populated mostly by Tajiks.)

Rustam had not been very specific about where he would be taking us, other than that he was going to show us the source of the Isfara River. He had hired a mini-bus for the day for the outing. I knew we were close to the border and I heard Rustam mention Vorukh so I figured out we were heading to the enclave.

We would be taking the road south from Isfara down the curved little finger of Tajikistan that extends into Kyrgyzstan, shown on the far left side of the map above. Then we had to go through a short section of Kyrgyzstan to enter the Vorukh enclave. I was aware that this would take us through one of the disputed areas. Sandra had asked before we left West Virginia about traveling in areas where there was the possiblity of violence. I think I reassured her that we would not be traveling in any of the conflict zones. I guess I was wrong.

It was about 25 miles from Isfara to the village of Vorukh and another four or five miles from the village to the mountain valley with the spring.


Photo by Craig Mains

I was excited about getting out and seeing some of the country. The scenery along the way was diverse because we went through three or four small villages but in between it was rural.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

Three rascals. Makmoud and Sasha had volunteered to be dropped off along the way to prepare a dinner for the group while we were visiting the headwater valley.


Photo by Craig Mains

Some Tajik kids on their way to school in one of the villages we passed through. Partially cut off on the left are two girls holding hands. I saw this occasionally--two female classmates holding hands on the way to or from school.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

The rain must have provided some relief to the villages since it must have been pretty dusty for some time. They would now have to contend with some mud for a couple days though.


Photo by Craig Mains

On the way, passing through one of the villages.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

A street scene in one of the villages.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

The center of one of the villages we passed through. I wondered if the structure in the foreground may have once featured a statue of Lenin or Stalin that was demolished after the Soviet Union fractured.


Photo by Craig Mains

Along the way, before we left Tajikistan, we stopped briefly at this shrine/museum. To the best that I understand it, as explained by Rustam and translated by Sergei, many centuries ago a poet/philospher lived in this area as a hermit. He left behind some writings, which are well known in Tajikistan and especially revered in his home area here. At some point this building was erected to memorialize him.


Photo: Sandra

Rustam brought his daughters along for the day. I'm embarrassed to say that I can't remember either of their names. They were delightful young ladies. The older one on the left spoke English well.


Photo by Craig Mains

The landscape around the shrine was beautiful.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

I'm talking with one of the local people in this photo. Or trying to, I should say. He spoke only Tajik, which is related to Farsi, the language of the Persian people. So, I couldn't even fall back on my little bit of crappy Russian. Nevertheless he seemed to want to talk so we did the best we could.


Photo by Craig Mains

The view from behind the museum. There are rice paddies in the foreground.


Photo by Craig Mains

The ornate carved wooden door at the entrance to the building.


Photo by Craig Mains

It was confusing to me whether the building was a memorial, museum, or mausoleum. It seemed to be a little bit of all three. There were some artifacts on display that were excavated from the site.

Once I was back home I tried to figure out exactly what this place was by tracing what I thought our travel route was on Google Earth. I eventually figured out the place was called the Hazrati-Bobo complex in Chorku. There really wasn't much information about it and what information was available raised more questions. According to the little information I found, there were supposed to be multiple buildings associated with the complex, including one that was built between the 10th and 12th centuries. It must have been located elsewhere because this building, which seemed to be by itself, was clearly not that old.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

The area fenced off in the middle is where some of the artifacts were recovered. People believe the poet/philospher lived and died here but when they dug around the site, they didn't find any remains, although they think his grave could be elsewhere nearby.


Photo by Craig Mains

The woman on the left in gray is the museum security guard. Note our driver on the far right texting. I was oblivious but Sandra later told me that she was concerned because our driver was texting almost the entire time we were on the road, including a few places on narrow roads with a precipitous drop-off on one side.


Photo by Craig Mains

Our travel party for the day (minus Tais and me). From the left: our driver (name unknown), Sergei, Sandra, Makmoud, Sasha, Rustam, and Rustam's daughters.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

The following few pictures show some of the scenery once we left the Hazrati-Bobo museum and before we entered Vorukh. At some point we crossed into Kyrgyzstan. Surprisingly, there was no official border crossing. I suspect that because of the disputed border and the number of people moving back and forth between Vorukh and the Tajik "mainland" that making people go through customs would either be too bothersome or would further add to the already existing tension. The distance we had to drive through Kyrgyzstan to get to Vorukh couldn't have been more than five miles. We drove from Isfara to Vorukh and back, technically crossing two national borders in each direction and never had to take out our passports.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

Somewhere along the five or so mile stretch of road in Kyrgyzstan we were motioned to pull over to the side of the road by some armed Kyrgyz soldiers. They opened the side door to the van and appeared to be angry. Initially I had no idea why they were upset as Sergei couldn't translate for us while he and Rustam were talking with them. They demanded to see Tais's camera and told her to show them the pictures on it.

Afterwards, Sergei and Tais explained to Sandra and me what had happened. They said that further back on the road they had been riding in a military vehicle and had passed us on the left. They were convinced that someone in our bus had taken a picture of their vehicle while they were passing. Sergei and Tais had explained to them that, yes, someone may have had a camera up to the window but no one had taken a picture of them. Because there were no pictures of them on Tais's camera they were apparently satisfied with the explanation. I don't know why they didn't ask to see either Sandra's or my cameras since neither of us tried to hide them. None of us had even noticed that a military vehicle had passed us.


Photo by Craig Mains

Not too much further up the road I got a little better idea why the soldiers were on edge. On the side of the road were the burned remains of three Kyrgyz military vehicles. The truck bodies were burned down to bare metal and the tires had totally burned away so the blackened remains of the trucks were just sitting on rims. Whoever had set them on fire must have used a generous amount of accelerant as there was a large charred circle on the ground that surrounded all three vehicles. I hesitated to take a picture because, after the incident with the soldiers, I didn't know who might be keeping an eye on us. It didn't look like anyone was present, but soon we were past them.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

There have been a number of violent conflicts and standoffs in the area. Just a couple months previous to our visit there was a conflict that left two Tajiks dead and five wounded. One standoff reportedly involved about 4000 Kyrgyz and 7000 Tajiks (although another account of the same event estimated the number in the hundreds). It seems that tensions flare up and then subside and things go back to something approaching normality. The conflicts usually have to do with the disputed borders, land ownership, and access to water.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

Coming into the small city of Vorukh. Both the larger enclave and the city within the enclave are called Vorukh. The entire enclave has a population of about 23,000 people, most of whom live in the city of Vorukh.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

I hadn't realized up to this point that Vorukh was Rustam's hometown. His father, shown here, met us for lunch.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

The place we stopped for lunch looked like either a hotel or perhaps some sort of community building. It didn't appear to be open, although Rustam had access to plates, cups, and silverware, which I think came from the building. I thought it was nice of Rustam to bring his daughters along for the outing. But, then I realized that a big part of the reason for bringing them was for them to provide service during the lunch. The girls had made a potato carrot salad, which was very good. I got the feeling that Rustam was a stern father.


Photo by Craig Mains

It was a light lunch of the potato salad, nan, and fruit. Makmoud produced another bottle of vodka. It was not one of the ones from the night before because those were emptied. I was curious to see whether Rustam's father, who I think was a devout Muslim, would be offended by the vodka drinking but he joined us in multiple toasts.


Photo by Sergi

Photo: Sergi

This photo was taken shortly after lunch with the city of Vorukh in the background.


Photo by Craig Mains

The city of Vorukh in autumn splendor. The city sits in a bowl almost completely surrounded by mountains.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

After lunch we got back in the mini-bus and headed further upstream toward the source.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

But before we got too far up into the mountains we made a brief stop at this building, which is yet another outpost of the Water Users Association. I don't know what function it serves. The plan was that we would drop off Sasha and Makmoud, who would spend the afternoon preparing a picnic dinner while the rest of us were up in the mountains.


Photo by Craig Mains

Heading up to the headwaters spring. The driver took us most of the way in the vehicle. However, the building on the right of the road was some sort of religious shrine. Through Sergei, Rustam told us that it was disrespectful to ride in a vehicle past the shrine. So, we got out of the bus, walked by the building, and then got back in the bus above the shrine.


Photo by Craig Mains

It was only after taking this photo that I noticed there was a person sitting in the middle of the picture. The area was used for grazing and there were a few people here and there in the valley. They seemed curious about what we were doing but none of them approached us.


Photo by Craig Mains

This was the area around the shrine. I don't know what the supports are for. They may have been for a building that was yet to be constructed.


Photo by The Driver

Photo: The Driver

It was a gorgeous stream so of course I had to pick up a few rocks to see what kind invertebrates were living in it. Our driver, who was with me, was curious about what I was doing and when I showed him some of the aquatic insect larvae and nymphs he seemed quite interested. I was trying to explain that one of the nymphs was an immature dragonfly. Sergei wasn't nearby to translate and I'm sure he didn't understand. Later, when we rejoined the group I had Sergei tell him and he seemed very interested and told us he didn't know dragonflies lived part of their lives in streams.


Photo by Craig Mains

There was actually a public restroom on the mountain. This was a typical configuration for an outhouse--an opening in a slab that covers a vault holding the excretions. This one was better than some because there was nothing left behind by those who missed the hole. Usually these facilities were unvented and malodorous.


Photo by Craig Mains

Rustam had brought a special glass so all of us could take a ceremonial drink from the source of the Isfara River. Sandra was a good sport but I could tell she was a little iffy about drinking water that came right out of the ground.


Photo by Craig Mains

Rustam and his daughters. Rustam made sure everyone got to drink from the spring.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

Rustam's oldest daughter had just recently graduated from high school. The Tajik school system, which is still based on the Soviet system, requires only 11 years of school, so kids in Tajikistan and most other former Soviet republics are usually about 17 when they graduate.

She badly wanted to come and spend a year in the US and spent some time talking to Sandra in the bus about how to go about arranging to come over. Tais and Sergei both encouraged Sandra to find a way to bring her over for perhaps a year as an exchange student since she would still only be as old as a high school senior in the US. Tais said that women had hard lives in Tajikistan and a year away would probably be her only chance to enjoy some freedom. Sandra mentioned something to Rustam about it at lunchtime and offered to be a guardian. He told Sandra that, by tradition, his daughter would need not only his permission to travel, but also her grandfather's--and she was unlikely to get it. He never mentioned whether she would have his permission.


Photo by Craig Mains

The little stream formed by the spring flowing down the hill.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

It was an impressive spring. The water was icy cold and had a good taste. However, even at the time, I was thinking that it was doubtful that this was THE headwater source of the Isfara River. I could see that the valley this spring flowed into continued much further upstream and the creek in the valley was bigger than the stream from the spring that flowed into it. Of course, I didn't mention my skepticism to Rustam. He had been very generous in arranging the day trip for us.

It was my impression that CAREC reimbursed him or the Water Users Association for feeding us and for any costs they had associated with us staying at the guesthouse. But I think the day's outing was Rustam's treat and I didn't want to detract from that by nitpicking about where the true head of the Isfara was.


Photo by Pavel Fedoseev

Photo: Pavel Fedoseev

Just out curiosity though (and because nitpicking about these types of things is right up my alley), I checked some maps and Google Earth when I got home. To me, the whole concept of "the source" of a river is somewhat misguided because the source of a river is diffused throughout the entire watershed. However, no matter how one defines the "source" or "head" of a river, it was clear that what most people would consider the headwaters of the Isfara River was not even in the Vorukh enclave. It was further south in Kyrgyzstan on the north slope of the Turkestan Range in the vicinity of Peak Piramidalnyi, shown above, whose summit is about 18,074 feet above sea level.


Photo by Garth Willis

Photo: Garth Willis

There are many other large peaks and glaicers in this area. Some Central Asia travel companies refer to this area as the Asian Patagonia.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

This view is looking back down the valley in the direction we came up.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

This view is looking further down the valley. When the stream that flowed down the valley reached the mountain in the distance it made a bend to the left and flowed towards the city of Vorukh.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

This guy wandered by just as we were getting ready to leave. He didn't seem too happy to see us.


Photo by Craig Mains

By the time we got down out of the higher valley the sun was shining only on the tops of the mountains.


Photo by Craig Mains

We returned to where we had left Makmoud and Sasha to prepare our picnic dinner.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

I'm not sure what function the building served. It may have just been a storage building. It was a pleasant place to stop for an outdoor dinner though.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

We were warmly greeted by these two Vorukhans, who were friends of Rustam and who joined us for dinner. The person on the left is the former police chief of the town of Vorukh. The person on the right is a retired high school teacher who had taught German.

They are burning what looked like a mixture aromatic herbs and twigs from some type of conifer. To the best that I could understand it was a sanctification ritual similar to the burning of sage by Native Americans. Sergei said they told him that it was a local practice that predated the conversion to Islam.

I told the ex-police chief that Vorukh did not look like a place where there would be much crime. He told me that, on the contrary, during the year before he took over as chief there had been eight burglaries. After he took over there were no more burglaries or any other crimes.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

These two rascals had enjoyed their afternoon and were noticeably drunk, but still functional.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

It was a simple, but delicious meal--sheshlyk, bread, apples, and juice, water, kumiss, or vodka to drink.


Photo by Sandra

Photo: Sandra

There was still some of the girls' potato salad left as well.


Photo by Craig Mains

By the time we were ready to head back it was dark in a way I only rarely get to experience. The villages we went through were totally dark. I assume that people had battery or oil lamps to use when the electricity is turned off but, because the houses all had walls around them, you couldn't see any windows that might have a light in them. Whatever light might be on the other side of the walls did not cast even a faint glow. Still, there were some people out on the streets, sometimes using a cell phone as a flashlight.

As we got closer to Isfara, Sasha made some drunken comments that were not well received by Rustam. Sergei told me they were not worthy of being translated. When we got to the guesthouse there was another exchange between Rustam and Sasha outside the bus. Rustam scolded Sasha and Sasha stomped off angrily. Since his comments were never translated I wasn't sure whether the problem was with the content of his remarks or just the fact that he had crossed the line into sloppy drunkeness. It was an unfortunately awkward end to an enjoyable day.

Sasha never came to his bed in the guesthouse that night, or even to the chair in the sitting room. At one point I realized that Sergei was awake and I asked him if he thought Sasha was OK. He told me Sasha could take care of himself and to enjoy a snore-free night.

Tomorrow we would be leaving Tajikistan to travel to Bishkek.

(October 2017)


Next: Isfara to Bishkek

 

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