Alexander's Lake

Iskanderkul (Tajik for Alexander's Lake) is three hours west of Dushanbe off the road to Uzbekistan. It is a clear, turquoise gem nestled in the heart of the Fan Mountains.

Though a few determined Lada drivers do chance the road, a 4x4 would definitely be my recommended means of transport. The track to the lake is steep, the gravel is loose amd several sections of road have already plunged to obliteration in the fast-flowing river below. A glance over the edge is best taken with caution and a quick prayer to the Almighty.

Unless you are fortunate enough to be a guest of the President at his dacha (country home), your accommodation options are limited to a slightly tatty Soviet holiday camp comprised of up-market garden sheds, or camping. We opted for the latter and located a serene spot on the far side of the lake where a few mosquitos and the occasional wading bird were to be our only companions. A thicket of trees provided brush wood for a glorious bonfire,and a previous camper had thoughtfully left a pile of kindling.

We spent two nights and a day by the lakeside - there was no rush to return to Dushanbe as the Afghan embassy was closed on an interminable holiday. I wrote, dozed and learned a new card game (which I promptly forgot as usual), Bill sketched in watercolours, and Katherine and Tom braved the chilly lake water for a very brief swim.

As well as an accomplished painter, Bill also knows a thing or two about birds. He drew our attention to a rather elegant black winged stilt,who cooled his long orange legs in the shallow waters by our camp and ducked down to retrieve an occasional tasty morsel.

Back in the USSR: Introducing Kyrgyzstan

Kyrgyzstan is a country with a distinctly split personality. High altitude gold mines, Lexus 4x4s and brash Russian lake resorts appear to herald a Las Vegas of the steppe, but they stand side by side with nomads in yurts, un-spoilt landscapes, and the genetic descendants of Genghis Khan. This eclectic mix makes it hard to pin down a single national identity for Kyrgyzstan, but ensure it is a fascinating destination for those willing to make the trip.

We first arrived in Kyrgyzstan almost by accident, becoming stranded in the capital, Bishkek, after particularly heavy snowfall. 93% of the country is mountainous and, in places, the snow never melts. Bishkek, however, usually enjoys slightly warmer climes and its partly for that reason that the city has been able to grow from a tiny 19^th century Russian garrison town into a buzzing metropolis today. Although geographically to the north of Kyrgyzstan, Bishkek is very much the country’s heart: economically, politically and culturally, almost everything is centered around the capital.

Its in Bishkek that Kyrgyzstan’s Russian side is most clearly evident. The Bolshevik military leader, Mikhail Frunze, was born here, the capital used to be named in his honour, and a street and museum still bears his name. Statues of Marx and Lenin are noticeably more conspicuous than in other post-Soviet states, and a visit to the State Historical Museum will introduce you to a fabulous Cold War relic: a cowboy clad in stars and stripes, riding high on a Pershing missile. For those with an interest in high-culture, the National Opera House, built prior to the Russian Revolution, is housed in a charming neo-classical building and hosts regular performances of opera and ballet by local and visiting troupes.

When the weekend comes, Kyrgyzstan’s elite head out west to join Russian and Kazakh tourists in resorts on the shores of Lake Issyk Kul. This volcanically heated lake is the second largest alpine lake in the world (after Lake Titicaca), and during the long summer the beaches are packed with beautiful bodies sunning themselves: think of it as Central Asia’s Monaco. If sunbathing isn’t your thing, you can befriend an oligarch with a gin palace, climb onboard a banana boat  or even go hunting for the remains of Soviet torpedoes and ancient cities buried beneath the waves.

Kyrgyzstan’s second side is distinctly quieter: it lacks the bling and the noise but, in spite of that, it is all the more enthralling. Wide open landscapes, unclimbed peaks and pristine glaciers beckon those prepared to leave the roads and continue on foot or on horseback. You won’t find a single hotel here: your hosts are the nomads in their tents, villagers in single-storey houses, and, if you choose to camp, the hillsides themselves. This is an ancient land, traversed by pilgrims, traders and travelers for thousands of years. When you climb into the mountains, you leave the present behind you and see the legacy of those who have gone before: pagan shrines with flags and goat skulls, Buddhist rock carvings, and distant look-out posts.

To understand the traditional spirit of Kyrgyzstan, you should look no further than a horse. The Kyrgyz say that a horse is the soul of a man and that it can carry him up into the heavens. Children can ride as soon as they can walk, and adrenalin-fuelled displays of horsemanship will garner a man respect. Whether you’re a Grand National winning jockey or a complete novice, you should take to the saddle for a few days, go well beyond the beaten track, and get up close and personal with nature. The mountains loom overhead, golden eagles soar, and snow leopards, Marco Polo sheep and ibex stalk the passes. There are no creature comforts up here, so bathe in the thermal springs and sleep each night on a pile of rugs in a round felt yurt, the traditional nomadic tent. The physical exertion may tire your body, but the peacefulness  revitalizes mind and soul.

Kyrgyzstan is yet to fully open up to tourism, and this is its beauty. The terrain is pristine, the people genuinely hospitable, and you won’t compete for space with tour buses and school groups. Now is the time to go, however, as things are set to change. Relative political and economic stability is attracting attention and investment from China and Russia, not to mention western powers. Multi-million dollar plans for ski resorts, shopping malls and super casinos loom large on the horizon and, although they may fit with some aspects of Kyrgyzstan, they risk engulfing the other parts altogether. Pack up your boots and phrasebook, and get on the plane.

Photos C. Tracing Tea 2008-2010

 

The Price of Tea

The Darjeeling district of West Bengal clings to the southern slopes of the Himalayas, nestled between Nepal, Bangladesh and India. Best known for the 10,000 tonnes of premium grade tea it produces each year, the region is wholly dependent on the tea industry for survival. Tea production comes at a high environmental price, however, and new strategies are required to protect the hillsides, forests and fauna from destruction. Numbers of red pandas, snow leopards, Himalayan black bears, Tibetan wolves, deer, wild dogs and civet are all declining due to deforestation and the encroachment of man.

There are over 90 tea estates in Darjeeling with some 22,000 hectares of land under tea cultivation. Commercial planting began in Darjeeling in 1841 with plants introduced from China, and since then large areas of virgin rainforest have been cleared to expand the tea plantations. Tea can be grown up to 7000 ft and terracing is widely used to maximise space on the hillsides and provide tea pickers with easy access to the bushes. The removal of tree cover and preference for terraced estates would not be such a problem if it were not for the fact that Darjeeling receives an annual rainfall of 110.9 inches. Almost a third of this falls in July alone, taking with it the top soil and causing devastating land slips. Not only does this wipe out fields of tea but also homes, roads and wildlife habitats. The desire to increase cultivation is in fact threatening the very survival of the hillsides that support the tea industry. 

The only way to stem the destruction of habitats in Darjeeling is to take a wider, more ‘holistic’ view of how a tea estate should be run; financial gain cannot be the sole priority if the industry is to survive in Darjeeling long-term. Rajah Banerjee, owner of the Makaibari Tea Estate, is spearheading a new approach to tea production and has made a name for himself across the subcontinent (and further afield) as one of India’s ‘Green Heroes’. Rajah runs Makaibari in accordance with the principles of bio-dynamism, believing that healthy soil, diverse flora and fauna, a satisfied community and high-quality crop production go hand in hand.

When he took control of the estate in the 1970s the first thing that Rajah did was to stop the clearing of trees for the expansion of tea planting. Today 2/3 of the 1574 acre estate is still under virgin rainforest, which provides habitats for wildlife including endangered snow leopards, red pandas and wolves, and helps keep the hillside intact; not a single landslip is visible in Makaibari in stark contrast with neighbouring estates. The rainforest provides a diverse and regular supply of vegetable matters that can be spread as mulch between the tea plants.  The ground between the tea plants is never weeded (a practice known as perma-culture) and so they break down with the added mulch into a compost rich in minerals, it protects the soil underneath from the assault of wind and rain, and it also provides a fertile breeding ground for insects. A giant earthworm unseen for the past 120 years has made its reappearance in Makaibari’s soils, and the Tea Deva, a variant of the Preying Mantis that is camouflaged to accurately imitate a tea leaf, has evolved on the estate. 

Makaibari’s workers, all of whom are stakeholder partners in the estate, are encouraged to take individual responsibility for their environment. Instead of stripping the forests for firewood each family cares for a cow, whose manure is added to biogas converters to provide fuel for cooking and can also be spread on vegetable gardens as fertiliser. Workers are given financial incentives to bring live specimens of rare insects and invertebrates to the attention of management so that they can be examined by experts before re-release back into the estate. This has allowed study to take place of breeding habits, preferred habitats, population numbers and so on. 

Rajah and his workers encourage diversity of organisms at Makaibari by using only organic fertilisers and no pesticides. The estate was the first in Darjeeling to be certified as organic (1988) and since then many others have followed in their tracks, recognising the appeal of organic farming to consumers and also its importance for good environmental practice. The alternative fertilisers used on Makaibari are all recommended in the theories of Rudolf Steiner, an Austrian Philosopher challenged to rejuvenate Europe’s soils after the ravages of WWI. They include cow manure, a not uncommon choice for a natural fertiliser, but also more unconventional products such as ground quartz, oak bark, cow horns and stag bladders. Whatever the theoretical reasons behind their use, on the Makaibari estate this unorthodox approach is certainly paying dividends: a Makaibari white tea has held the world record price for tea sold at auction ever since 2006 and soil samples taken on the estate have shown higher nitrate levels and greater biodiversity than anywhere else in Darjeeling. 

Photos C. Tracing Tea 2008