Away from the hotzone called Osh

I dreamt my room mate was playing a war game on his computer. Why would he do that in the middle of the night? I woke up and the sound of gunfire remained. It dawned to me the shooting was actually happening outside. Did war break out?

Osh is the second largest city in Kyrgyzstan and is located in the very south of the country on the border of Uzbekistan. Half the population is Uzbek and generally this group run the more successful businesses. The guesthouse were staying in is Uzbek owned. There are different theories about the cause of the violence. In Kygyzstan it is believed it was arranged by the dismissed president Bakijev. Others think the outbreak of violence is caused by the class differences between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks. Unofficial reports claim more than 2000 people have been killed in the clashes. Half a million people fled the country and are cut off from water and food.

The gunfire kept on going, helicopters flying low over the city and we could see plums of smoke very close from where we stayed. There was even shooting in the street. How on earth are we getting out of here? Luckily myself and a few cyclists had enough food and camping equipment to ensure food for a number of days.

Meanwhile one of our fellow travelers Mike, an American who is married to a Kyrgyz woman, started an evacuation plan. Lot's of calls but no clarity yet. The next morning suddenly a car was arranged and we had to pack quickly and go. In front of our car was another car to escort us out of town. What we saw was worse than we imagined it would be. Many businesses were burned down, cars as well. Groups of young men with guns and improvised spears dominated the street. A dead body. It only took 10 minutes to get us out of town but they were long. There were still some hurdles to take but we got out of the warzone and were on our way to Bishkek where things still remain stable (tomorrow 26 June the referendum will be held).

Return Jiptik Pass

After having to change the itinerary of the Pamir Alay trek (due to snow expectations and insufficient border permit) I took off with 35kg on the back. Following the course of Ak Bar Suu the green rolling hills suddenly change in jagged, snowcapped mountains. The river is big this time of the year and brown coloured due to all the soil that's being disposed. The map showed a number of side rivers, but dispite the large amounts of rainfall no side river to be found. I struggled with the weight of the backpack, and water was running out. Just before dusk I found a place to stay with a Kyrgyz farmer and his daughter. The legs, shoulders and hips hurt...

The next stage was going up gradually. I passed villages that result inevitabily in invitations for tea. People are very generous and hospitable. The last bit of dirt track goes up steeply and finally I walk into the wide valley of Kojo Kelen. The first inquiry about places to stay was a lucky shot: the lady is the English teacher of the village and invites me to stay. The family is clearly rich: lot's of land, big house for themselves and many beautiful blankets. The meal later that night (a rice meal called plov) was excellent. Her husband teaches me to pray muslim prayers. May come in handy some time...

Day 3 was going to be a tough one. The plan was to camp at 3200 metres which means an altitude gain of 1100 metres. After Kojo Kelen the track narrows and not long after there's no habitation anymore. Alpine marmots announce my visit, yaks are lazing around on the jailoos (summer pastures) and the 4000m peaks become clearly visible. Man, there's a lot of snow on the summits. I climb up to 3200m and pitch the tent. Finally I get to sleep in my nice little crappy Chinese tent. And then it started raining, pooring I should say. Is the tent going to hold or not? The rain remains for a good 12 hours and the inside of the tent is completely dry. Sweet! I spent my time talking to myself until I fall asleep.

The next morning is dry. Without a pack I'm walking up the path to have a look at the pass. Last night tons of snow were dumped on the higher bits of the surrounding mountains. The path up the pass is invisible. It would probably mean a lot of ploughing through deep snow to get to the other side. I decided to go back: being alone and carrying a rucksack that's very heavy was to much risk to make an attempt. I descended 1400 metres and stayed another night with another family. The next day I took an early morning taxi back to Osh. Back to cold beers and juicy sashlicks. Things would turn out slightly different...