KELPINTAGH 15.4. 2007

A kingdom for a donkey!..The usual story. First there are donkeys for sale almost everywhere. Every second village has its market with everything for sale. Especially donkeys. But not now when we need a donkey or preferably two.

There are supposed to be more donkey accidents in the world every day than there are accidents involving cars. Just wonder how many donkeys there are in the world. Must be hundred of millions. And we just need two. Back in Kelpin again, this time it feels a bit like coming home – not really, but it feels good to be on the right track again. The complications with the Police did not disappear totally – so it took some convincing to get these reluctant officers in charge to what they where supposed to do. Maybe Guo, our Chinese partner should have passed a few RMBs to them to get things running… Its Thursday and we want eagerly get on our way to Ush Turpan – or Wushi in Chinese. Over the mountains. It is supposed to be a three-day exercise in ups and downs.. Over really rocky terrain. With differences in elevation up to 1300 m. Palwan, our newfound local friend has fixed us a guide – some distant relative who has sheep in the mountains. He is supposed to know the terrain well. Good for us since it was not at all easy to find one. Our dear Mr. Guo could not come up with anybody. Neither could he find any donkeys nor camels. Luckily the market day is on Friday…and there must be lots of donkeys fore sale. Our entourage moves a bit outside the town, closer to the mountains to start from a good spot by the river. Water is scarce in these surroundings. Palwan and lour new guide Abtusalem will join us later – hopefully with two strong donkeys to carry some of our stuff. The way to the starting point looks like an endless desert road with the usual feature – an ever-present dust storm.. Our campsite is a nice one. Huge walls of rocks, on both side of the tiny river... This is where we will start tomorrow at dawn. After many hours a white little truck comes towards us. It is Palwan and Abtusalem with one black and one grey donkey. Neither looks like the perfect sample. Hopefully they are well suited for this endeavor. Due to the difficulties in getting the right amount of extra animals we had to change our plans – no riding. Every horse will be used for carrying our stuff. This area has no fresh grass, very little water. So everything has to be carried along. The distance is about 115 km – a nice little walking exercise. It turns out that our dear new guide Abtusalem has no intention of walking. He will use one of the donkeys! Fucking asshole! Why did he not say so in the first place? Because, it is too late to change guide now. And besides, we have no idea of where to get one. So, after a good night sleep with thousands of beautiful stars as our ceiling we get on our way fairly early. Not as early as we would have liked to. But anyway. Three horses, packed with tents, sleeping bags and all kind of other stuff, Two donkeys – one overloaded with sacks of hay and the other donkey with an small Uyghur with a ridiculous hat on his head. Then a Chinese, two more Uyghurs and finally two foreign dumbos – who insist on getting out in this harsh terrain. Three days ahead on our own – the truck will meet us at the other side of the mountains. It is a nice morning. Not too chilly – in fact it is getting warm very quickly. We start a slow climb. The path goes through red sandy hills. We depart from the river to the northeast. Within an hour and a half we reach a small village. Very remote, I must say – but in a way beautiful. And a lot of cherry trees in full blossom. We stop for a short break and it looks like the whole village is there within a second. Many women in colorful clothes and children too. This is not a place where the one child policy is in effect. In fact, Uyghurs are allowed to have three. A small concession from Beijing to this shrinking minority . But this poor area but this place has some kind of serenity. Outside this community we meet the river again – and that feels nice. The sound, the way the sun reflects.. Big mountains again. Quite close. This starts to look very familiar – Mannerheim’s photos from this area could be taken today. The scenery gets grander and grander – enormous cliffs hanging over the tiny, but powerful river. Some parts are very narrow. It is also very nice to be in shade for a while. The mid day sun is not that tempting. No dust storms here either. . Our little caravan moves ahead like a big snake as the path makes hundreds of turns. Then it suddenly is over and we are out on an enormous plain. Sadly we have to leave the river and continue along the dead, larger riverbed. This area feels also very dead. But there are supposed to be eagles, wolves, all kind of small reptiles and bugs. Not to mention goats and sheep. But nothing is visible for the time being. We start to feel the strains. The levy is very stony and I envy the guide who sits on our donkey. We find a little shady place late in the afternoon – good for a lunch break. The elevation is now 2050 m above sea level. Our starting point was at 1550 meters. Not so bad, but a bit tiresome. Our interpreter Akbar is at this point really pissed off with our local guide who has been sitting comfortably on Adil, our black donkey. It does not take long before these two men are at each other’s throat. Almost literally I have all the sympathy for Akbar – but we cannot afford to loose Abtusalem. For now at least. ---- \" BELNYNG TUPE / 15.2. 1907 We push our tired animals further – and they go on with unsure footing on this narrow path. Even a small wrong step would have severe consequences. Finally the way seems to become a bit broader and some trees tell us that the Kyrgyz Yurt can not be far. The sound of a barking dog confirms that we there. It is almost dark when I take a closer look inside the tent. Three women, three children and nine men are placed around the stove in this not too big tent. Behind the men a baby is screaming, surrounded by sheep – approximately 30-40 heads. My presence is obviously not appreciated. An old woman screams something I do not understand – but it does not sound welcoming. Heavy dark clouds hangs over the mountains and snow is falling. No time for hesitation. I find a spot among the sheep and we try to make it as comfortable as possible. Unfortunately we do not have enough bread or meat to share with all of them. But one small bread and few pieces of sugar are received well. Poor people, it can not be easy to try to make a living this high up in the mountains with no other water source than snow. Even the fire wood is sparse and the sheep they take care of are not even their own – the owners live in Kelpin. \" ----- Five hours later, just before sunset and on a truly rocky road we reach our campsite to be. A small and remote farm – owned by a Shepard and his wife. They do have a baby too. It is a very basic place - the whole scenery could well have been featured in an old western movie. Never seen anything like it, in reality. Our whole group is very tired – to put up the tent is really an effort. Just as we are about to hit the bunk…the shepherd’s wife invites us to share dinner. We cannot refuse. Their house is even inside more basic than the outside. One room with a stove in the center and a platform covered with felt. In the corner a small table that functions as a kitchen. Lagman is on the menu – freshly made in front of our eyes. Just like pasta. Same routine. The sauce is made of beetroot, some local herb. Extremely basic. But it is nice to have a warm meal after a day like this. Sure hope that tomorrow is a bit easier.

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