Postcard 3: The Magical Walnut Forest
On Sunday, my family – all 12 of us, plus my host sister’s friend from Russia – took a day trip to Arslambob, a gem of a place nestled in the second largest walnut forest in the world. In the park are three waterfalls, huge mountains, lots of scenic outlooks, and, of course, lots of walnut trees. The Kyrgyz national television station uses footage of it in one of its look-at-how-beautiful-our-country-is television spots.
After a three hour long car trip (most of which I spent with a passed-out 4-year-old in my lap), we stopped at a pretty but unremarkable Soviet-era resort village. Underwhelmed, I remember thinking, “Right…so we’re here. There are some mountains and trees…and ooo! A disco!” After wandering around for a half-hour or so, though, my host dad called us over to a couple of ancient Jeep-like vehicles and tells us to get in. Apparently we were going on some sort of excursion…
The closest approximation that I can think of for what followed is something like a real-life Thunder Road, minus the seatbelts and reckless gangsters (for those of you from Tennessee, you’ll recognize this name as that of the 3-D attraction at Dollywood that simulates a wild ride down country roads in Prohibition-era America. Lots of jostling about in your seat with the occasional stomach-drop.). Our driver had a particular affinity for driving through streams of water whenever possible and ‘powering through’ steep banks (although his theatrics also necessitated that he stop and pour water over the overheated engine every 10 minutes or so). My 3 year-old host cousin performed quite an act of napping fortitude on the way – standing up, with her head and arms resting on my lap, she slept nearly the whole rough, bouncy way (even leaving a nice big spot of drool on my knee…).
Anyway, we eventually made it to the base of the hike to the 70-meter waterfall. To bolster our strength, we had fermented mare’s milk, hot tea, and fried bread first. Most of us – including the 3, 4, and 5 year olds – then began our ascent. The trail started out easily enough as a nice paved path. After about 5 minutes, though, the cement gave way to loose gravel and dirt. Kind of scary, actually, especially because, for most of the way, I was helping my 4-year-old host sister along. Hiking with a little girl is actually pretty fun because she got so excited so often – every 50 meters or so, she insisted on turning around and waving to her mom, who was about 100 meters behind us. I was quite proud of her for making it all the way up the increasingly steep hill.
After about an hour of hiking, we made it to the top. The view was spectacular; I was beginning to see why everyone raves about the place so much. And since the waterfall is considered a holy place, it is completely devoid of the tacky graffiti that covers many such sites in America and elsewhere. Just naturally beautiful.
Back at the base of the hill, we quenched our thirst with – what else? – hot tea. We then headed to the site of the other two waterfalls. This time, there wasn’t much of a hike at all, so my baby sister, pregnant sister, and bedazzled-high-heel-shod host mom could join us. And this place was freaking awesome. Two 30-meter waterfalls fell together in a pool at the base of the path, making a great place for wading and, of course, picture-taking. At one point, my host brother grabbed his 4 year-old daughter and sloshed into the middle of the pool so I could take their picture…the result was the definition of ‘Kodak moment’ (my sitemate dubbed it an ‘Anne Geddes wet dream’). Will try to post it later.
At the end of the day, I bought soft serve ice cream for everyone (how I’ve thanked my lucky stars this summer that Kyrgyzstan has soft serve…) and, after a pit stop for lagman (Kyrgyz spaghetti) at a café, we drove back home, exhausted but happy.
On Sunday, my family – all 12 of us, plus my host sister’s friend from Russia – took a day trip to Arslambob, a gem of a place nestled in the second largest walnut forest in the world. In the park are three waterfalls, huge mountains, lots of scenic outlooks, and, of course, lots of walnut trees. The Kyrgyz national television station uses footage of it in one of its look-at-how-beautiful-our-country-is television spots.
After a three hour long car trip (most of which I spent with a passed-out 4-year-old in my lap), we stopped at a pretty but unremarkable Soviet-era resort village. Underwhelmed, I remember thinking, “Right…so we’re here. There are some mountains and trees…and ooo! A disco!” After wandering around for a half-hour or so, though, my host dad called us over to a couple of ancient Jeep-like vehicles and tells us to get in. Apparently we were going on some sort of excursion…
The closest approximation that I can think of for what followed is something like a real-life Thunder Road, minus the seatbelts and reckless gangsters (for those of you from Tennessee, you’ll recognize this name as that of the 3-D attraction at Dollywood that simulates a wild ride down country roads in Prohibition-era America. Lots of jostling about in your seat with the occasional stomach-drop.). Our driver had a particular affinity for driving through streams of water whenever possible and ‘powering through’ steep banks (although his theatrics also necessitated that he stop and pour water over the overheated engine every 10 minutes or so). My 3 year-old host cousin performed quite an act of napping fortitude on the way – standing up, with her head and arms resting on my lap, she slept nearly the whole rough, bouncy way (even leaving a nice big spot of drool on my knee…).
Anyway, we eventually made it to the base of the hike to the 70-meter waterfall. To bolster our strength, we had fermented mare’s milk, hot tea, and fried bread first. Most of us – including the 3, 4, and 5 year olds – then began our ascent. The trail started out easily enough as a nice paved path. After about 5 minutes, though, the cement gave way to loose gravel and dirt. Kind of scary, actually, especially because, for most of the way, I was helping my 4-year-old host sister along. Hiking with a little girl is actually pretty fun because she got so excited so often – every 50 meters or so, she insisted on turning around and waving to her mom, who was about 100 meters behind us. I was quite proud of her for making it all the way up the increasingly steep hill.
After about an hour of hiking, we made it to the top. The view was spectacular; I was beginning to see why everyone raves about the place so much. And since the waterfall is considered a holy place, it is completely devoid of the tacky graffiti that covers many such sites in America and elsewhere. Just naturally beautiful.
Back at the base of the hill, we quenched our thirst with – what else? – hot tea. We then headed to the site of the other two waterfalls. This time, there wasn’t much of a hike at all, so my baby sister, pregnant sister, and bedazzled-high-heel-shod host mom could join us. And this place was freaking awesome. Two 30-meter waterfalls fell together in a pool at the base of the path, making a great place for wading and, of course, picture-taking. At one point, my host brother grabbed his 4 year-old daughter and sloshed into the middle of the pool so I could take their picture…the result was the definition of ‘Kodak moment’ (my sitemate dubbed it an ‘Anne Geddes wet dream’). Will try to post it later.
At the end of the day, I bought soft serve ice cream for everyone (how I’ve thanked my lucky stars this summer that Kyrgyzstan has soft serve…) and, after a pit stop for lagman (Kyrgyz spaghetti) at a café, we drove back home, exhausted but happy.
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