“You are lost,” the hobbled babushka declared.
My face read like subtitles; I was indeed lost. The journey from Almaty to Karakol was seemingly straightforward – catch a marshtruka (shared taxi) from Kazakhstan into Kyrgyzstan then change at the terminal in Cholpon Ata. But I had already been left behind at the border, caught the wrong bus, lacked the language skills and was on the verge of tears.
The babushka spoke to the young woman sitting next to her, then turned back to me, “She, Karakol. Go.”
The woman smiled and beckoned me to join her. Irene’s English was limited but from what I gathered, she would guide me to my destination. Thankfully, I was right. She expertly navigated the chaotic marshtruka transfer that I would’ve undoubtedly botched. When we arrived in Karakol, she invited me to share a taxi with her. I assumed we’d drop her off first, and then I’d head to my hostel. But Irene had other plans.
I had read about Kyrgyz hospitality in travel blogs. They were fascinated as to why a foreigner would choose to visit Kyrgyzstan. For me, it was to explore the ‘Switzerland of Central Asia’, with its glacial lakes, soaring mountain ranges, ochre canyons, lush valleys and uncrowded hiking trails. It was a bonus that the locals turned out to be some of the most generous people I’d ever met on my travels.
Irene insisted that I stay with her that night. My internal stranger-danger alarm hadn’t gone off; everything about her radiated warmth. The taxi took us to the outskirts of town, where roads were littered with potholes and cows cried out incessantly. We stopped at a humble home, barely visible through a sea of colourful flowers. A man was in the garden with a cat and rottweiler trailing behind him.
He looked confused when he saw me (and rightly so). After a swift kiss on the lips, Irene rapidly filled him in. Uncertainty gave way to a smile – come on in, he gestured excitedly. I entered their home, thanking them profusely. Oleg started setting the table while Irene showed me their garden. Fruit and vegetables were bursting at the seams on their little block. We sampled the produce while picking some for dessert – two for now, one for later, and repeat. I couldn’t get enough of the tiny green apples; the sweetness was unlike anything I’d ever tasted.
That night, I was treated to dinner and a show. Oleg had gathered horse meat, cheese, bread, honey and wine from their neighbours. This simple feast was heavenly. I think I could taste the hard work and love that went into creating it. Once our bellies were full, Oleg started playing songs from their homeland on his guitar. It became a good old-fashioned singalong when Irene and I joined in (once I got the general gist of what they were singing).
The next day, they hired a driver and a car to show me around Karakol. Forget what you’d find in Lonely Planet; these were sights overlooked by travellers chasing grander escapades. But within these unassuming places lay adventures that were surprisingly charming. They took me to the local museum and found a stranger who could speak English to translate the history for me. We swam at a secluded beach on the edge of the world’s second-largest alpine lake, apples in tow for a picnic. The car they had hired broke down, so we all jumped out to push it. They wined and dined me at a traditional restaurant for lunch. We bathed in a natural hot spring, that overlooked the mountains. I became quite the celebrity at the spa as Irene and Oleg regaled our tale to anyone who would listen.
This whole time, neither of us could fully understand what the other was saying Every conversation we had was through Google Translate, with the addition of animated charades. We’d pass my phone back and forth, ‘talking’ endlessly about our respective lives. They weren’t even aware of the outdoor adventures that Kyrgyzstan had to offer when I told them why I was there. They were just proud of their country and wanted to share as much of it as possible.
I had travelled to Kyrgyzstan in search of beauty in nature. I left with a renewed faith in human generosity and a giant bag of apples.
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