Visa for Republic of Kazakhstan

 We learned when we arrived to Ulaanbaatar from other travelers that Tibet is currently closed for any foreign visitors while celebrating their 60th anniversary of independence, and so we decided to change our upcoming route to travel the Silk Road, through western China towards Urumqi, into Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan.In order to apply for the visitors single entry visa, we visited the embassy of Kazakhstan in Ulaanbaatar.


The embassy, located on the edge of city center, is open for visa applications on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday from 10:00-12:00 and 16:00-18:00. We knew that in addition to application forms we needed to submit an invitation letter issued by the government, our first visit was just to collect necessary documents and information. Even though they were still on a holiday due to Naadam, an officer was kind enough to thoroughly explain what is needed, and with our Japanese passports,invitation letter was not necessary as long as we pay the application fee of USD30.00. A few days later in the evening, we went back with 2 application papers, a copy of passport page and a photo, only to learn that applications are usually submitted in the morning time. They still accepted our application nonetheless, and told us to come back the next day with a copy of a bank statement for the application payment. We did as we were told, and the visa was granted in a matter of 10 minutes.


One thing to keep in mind when traveling through Central Asia, is the foreigner registration that must be done within 72 hours of arrival. This was also required in Russia, and likely so in most of countries previously under the rule of Soviet Union. When flying in, the registration is done at passport control, but if you are a traveling by land, make sure to consult your hotel or to visit the local Office of the Ministry of Internal Affairs of Kazakhstan.

Couchsurfer No. 119

Couchsurfing is a non-profit network connecting travelers, or "surfers", to locals, or "hosts". Over 2,990,000 surfers and 1,300,000 hosts currently signed up in 240 countries, the network offers a chance to exchange the cross-cultural experience through meeting new people, and staying at their home. Interested in meeting the locals and peeking into lives in different regions, we started using the network during this journey. Aside from an terrible accident of me braking a lamp at our first host's home, we have had wonderful and unique experience in each and every places we stayed at.

We were looking for a host in Mongolia, and came across a family of six living in a ger. We immediately sent a request, but it was a day before our requested date that finally got in touch with him to learn that he will come pick us up at our guesthouse. Next morning, we met Begzsuren, a dark skinned man of my age with a shaved head and a smile. He told us which bus to take and where to get off, as he will catch up with his bike. With our backpacks, the small, crowded local bus was definitely not a simple task, especially trying to look out the window for the bus-stop count. The bus spitted us out on a dusty dirt road 20 minutes later, surrounded by huts and gers. Locals kept their eyes peeled on two aliens that just landed, in search for a sign of familiarity. Soon later Begz found the vulnerable duo, and led to his shelter.

We entered the ger, to see that it was a functioning home unlike the gers at the guesthouse. Near the center was an iron stove with a chimney going through the ceiling. Shelves and miscellaneous were piled up and covering the entire wall, and on the colorful chest were small shrine and framed photos of the family and friends. The wife and three girls aged 9, 6, and 5 were home at the time, and the oldest son was out herding cows. Begz suggested us to sit down, and lunch was served. Huarem, diluted hot milk, orom, milk-cream, and arol, cheese-like hardened dairy chunk were served. To our surprise of thinking there will be lamb served with every meal, we learned that the family eats very little meat during summer for two reasons; financial and inner-body cleansing. After a healthy meal, we sat with the oldest daughter to clean the wild flower, Tan, which they picked from the field to make spice.

Begz took us for a walk up on a hillside and explained that the area, simply known as the ger district, is located along the riverside in a valley, and the lifestyle is much dependent on self-sufficiency. Some, like Begz, commute to the central city, but with no running water and little electricity, living in the area is simple and not at all easy. Begz's house, for example, uses electricity for a single bulb light, a TV screen with a computer, a radio with no volume control, and occasionally the washing machine. No shower, no toilet, no internet, and their family outing include picking wild plants to make jam. He couldn't respond to our couch request as he was not at the office during Naadam holidays.

Usually, providing meals for guests are not a part of host's responsibility, but with a tiny contribution, Begz' family offer them. Dinner was homemade yogurt and bread. acquired taste is one way to phrase the dairy-based dish, but for the experience and the cleansing we delivered a bite after another. When the bowl was empty, we thought we were finished but were told that licking a plate to show the gratitude for the cook was customary in this country...ahh, customs. As guests we must do what is respectful, but my mind is too Europeanized to even allow myself to stick my tongue out after a meal. I glanced over to Sahe and learned she is far more accepting and brave than I was. On the first night, best I can do was to collect all remaining on the bowl with my finger and slurp them quickly. I remained my cowardly status, and Sahe proudly won her point.

Children are very hard-working. During the summer vacation, the son takes five cows down to the river all day every day, while the oldest daughter collects and dries cow dung used for burning fuel, and cleans the house. They sleep together in a row, and there is no secret kept from one another. On the second day we began to contribute to their daily works, and for me the most memorable experience had to be building a outdoor stove out of cow dung, dirt, and remaining water of yogurt called "yellow water". They became a member of Couchsurfing in 2008, and since then had 118 groups of visitors stay with them. Children has no hesitation to spend time with strange invaders, and even the five year old tries hard to communicate with us in English, telling us "no cheating!" while playing UNO. Some visitors wrote about them in a book, some made a short documentary. We wanted to do something special for this unique experience and decided to draw a picture.

Instead of choosing one, they requested me to draw a picture of their mother cow. Providing enough milk for most of their meal, the cow plays an important role to their family's life, and so it was an honorable request. It was not easy drawing a black cow in the sunset as they spend most of the day by the river, but I was able to complete it by the following morning, and give it to them after I neatly licked off my bowl at breakfast. The experience here was something to be remembered. 

The Horse Race

On the second day, we decided to go see the horse race at Khui Doloon Khudagt. The event, categorized by 6 age groups, is raced by 244 horses at once. We were originally planning on taking the bus to this remote site, but a guy we met at the guesthouse had chartered a jeep, and was kind enough to offer us available seats. All Naadam events are thought to require skills considered necessary for life, but this one in particular, not only an essential transportation method but being able to connect with one of the respected mammal here, is viewed as most important.


One thing we quickly learned on the way to the location, is that Momgolians who appear to be calm and nice, turns 180 degrees when behind wheels. One hand constantly on the horn, all drivers take any available path whether paved or not, and the two lane freeway soon turned into 7 lane offense race, even using the road on the opposite side. Our jeep jumped up and down going through dirt and ditch, puddles and gas stations. We later learned that there were many travelers who took the bus that never made it there as the traffic was unbeatable. An hour and a half later we got off the car and saw a field full of vehicles. We walked another 30 minutes to get to the goal area, and just barely caught the end of the first competition.

The race is takes place on an open field, and depending on the category, horses run about 15 to 30 kilometers. Two scheduled races on this day were 5-year old horses category, the fastest and most powerful age group, and the youngest 2-year old category.  It is said to bring a good luck if you put horse's sweat from the race on your forehead, and we can see from a distance that there are people waiting at the end line for exhausted creature to pass by. Mongolian horses are small in size compared to other breeds, and so usually boys aged around 12 with adolescent expression still remaining, are jockeys for this long tough races.

We sat on a metal-pipe welded bleachers way early to save good spots, as our expectation grew. More than an hour later, a referee like figure with a national flag in a hand rides the horse to a starting area, far from where viewers were, and 244 young studs followed.


There was no indication of the start, as horses started to scatter out and got smaller and smaller into the horizon. Not knowing howling it would take to come back to the goal, we patiently waited, and it was a bit later that there were more and more people climbing onto bleachers, hanging off with one hand like a monkey bar. People on top of one another, and soon my shoulder became someone's armrest.

We saw dust in the far distance, and small dots grew larger and larger. One horse had an amazing lead to the rest, and as he came near and near to the goal, roaring cheer in the stand reached it's peak, enough heat to start a blaze on this dry land. More and more horses reached the goal, and people ran after them for a pat on the back. It was such an amazing experience, it took me a while to realize to take a breath.

 Needless to say, the drive back to the city became another race in itself.



Both Sahe and I are looking forward to your comments on any of our blog entries, and for home page photos^^

Naadam Festival, day 1

We arrive Ulaanbaatar station at 6:30 in the morning, together with many people anticipated to see the festival. People from the guesthouse came to pick us up, and 10 minutes later we were at Gana's Guesthouse, where we will call home for the next several days. On top of the concrete structure several gers, a traditional dome shaped tent, being used for dormitory accommodations were placed. Unfortunately, there were no cheap beds in these gers available so we ended up having a twin room inside the building.

We paid for our reserved tickets for Naadam, and we were on our way to the stadium. Naadam, meaning game or a match in Mongolian, is a celebration of the traditional sporting events. Once a year, this event takes place all over Mongolia, but the largest and most ceremonial events take place in the national stadium in Ulaanbaatar. This particular year was special for the 2,220th anniversary of the First Statehood of Mongolia, 805 years since Mongolian empire was founded by Genghis Khaan, the 100th anniversary of the National Liberty Revolution, and the 90th anniversary of People's Revolution, it was to be largely cerebrated. Main events are Mongolian wrestling, archery, and horse racing, and first two games are held in the stadium area.

We walked down the main street as we were directed. Likely due to dry atmosphere, the city is dusty, and heated with direct sunlight. We needed some cash before reaching the destination, but none of stores were open, being the first of the three-day holiday. We were joined by more and more people on half-paved sidewalks, and jammed vehicles filled the streets, honking and not moving, as our anticipation grew larger. 30 minutes of walking, we arrived the stadium and the area was filled with mixture of people with traditional clothing, and tourists with cameras around their neck.

We went through the gate, and the vivid color of the field appeared in front of us. On the track, a couple hundred musicians with horse-head fiddles were seated, and dances and performances took place in the center. There must have been a half of the city's population of 1,000,000 were involved in this ceremony, as more and more people poured onto the field. An opening speech was announced, and Naadam officially begun.

 

Mongolian wrestling was the event to follow in the center field. As we have many wrestlers from Mongolia to participate in Sumo, I assumed to have a similarity in two national sports, but this unique sport appeared to be somewhere in between Greco-Roman style wrestling and Sumo. The fighters danced with spread arms before and after the fight; the ritual representing having wings to fly to a higher level. Outside the stadium in a annex field, archers, men and women dressed in a traditional outfit, lined up in rows to aim for stacked up target 40 some meters away.

After seeing these events we went back to the guesthouse to find a party, owner and friends celebrating Naadam with cooked lamb. 

 

With bottles of Mongolian vodkas and endless amount of meat, our first day in Asian continent was welcoming the long and beautiful night.

Beer in Russia

Finding beer between rows of vodka bottles were not easy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

СИБИРСКАЯ КОРОНА Зодомцсмое, 4.0%, Моscow
СИБИРСКАЯ КОРОНА Кдассцческое, 4.0%, Моscow

Traveling on Trans-Siberian Railway: Irkutsk to Ulaanbaatar

Distance:  1,081km
Traveling time: about 26.5 hours
Time difference: -1 hour

Although before dawn, Irkutsk station was filled with a team of European backpackers, a group of Chinese tourists, and a gang of Mongolian natives returning home. We boarded the train already packed with people, and we found our cabin-mates sleeping soundly on top bunks. While we quietly stowed our luggage, one of the bunkers, a Mongolian man of our age woke up and we exchanged silent greetings. That was enough to made us feel easy and to be welcomed.

The train, most retro of all trains we have taken so far, has a Central-Asian taste to it's interior, from the curtain to seat covers. The guy who greeted us in the dark was apparently a leader to all Mongolian boarded on our car, as they came into our cabin for suggestions about where to hide illegal alcohol bottles for the customs, and to ask him to fill in declaration documents on behalf. As arrival time to the border came near we can feel more tention in the air, and then the conductor came around telling us all to get back in our cabin. The train slowed down with extended sound of metal scraping, stopped, and then another sound of metallic sound followed with a small shock. I peeked out the window between curtains, and saw a number of soldiers placed on the platform, ordering passengers to not look out the window. This is Naushki, the final station before leaving Russia by train, and where the customs procedure takes place. Soon after, a group of customs officers marched onto the car, one came into our cabin to ask for the passport. She looked through all of them, said with a commanding tone, "I take your passports", and left us with a big feeling of unease.

The train is scheduled to stay at this station for three and a half hours. After we surrender our identification, we are allowed to get off and walk around the platform. I looked to the head of the train, and noticed the locomotive was not there. The sound heard earlier was disconnecting us with power to move. After a while we were ordered to get back onto the train, and two and a half hour later, we received our passports back. Sahe and I mmediately checked inside for the stamp and felt safe again, but that was not the end. We were soon visited by a soldier asking us to vacate the cabin. She then tossed and turned the small room, checking every crack and corner. Possibly due to their possession of illegal amount of alcohol bottles, our roommates looked somewhat nervous, but none of the thirty-some bottles stashed were not taken away, and the search for unknown substance was now completed.

Leaving the southern edged station of the largest country, we soon came to the Russia-Mongolia border, visible from the speeding train window. It was another hour when we arrived the station, Sükhbaatar, for another immigration. Usually, entry procedure is more nerve-racking than departing, but handing over the passport to our fellow-Asian customs officer did not seem to worry us as much as it did 5 hours ago. Less than an hour, our passports were back in our hands, and we were officially admitted to our seventh country.

Back in Asia.

Ballad of Siberia

Irkutsk(Иркутская), the most popular stop in the great Siberian land for travelers, is a city located 60 km south-west of lake Baikal. Known for its deepest, clearest body of water, which totals to about 20% of world's unfrozen fresh water, the lake has many visitors all year around, and many tour trips are organized in this city, population of 600,000. The surface sizes at 31,500 square kilometers (339,000sq.ft), and the deepest end measures at 1,600km (1 mile). Most commonly visited is Olkhon island (Ольхон), however, we didn't have enough time as it takes from Irkutsk about 6 hours by bus that only runs once a day. Instead, we decided to visit Listvyanka (Листвянка), the town on the closest shore.

We check ourselves in at the guesthouse at 7:00, and the first thing we did was to shower for the first time in a week. Lack of sleep mixed with a refreshed feeling only led to an early nap. Our agenda of the day is to purchase bus tickets for Listvyanka, but in order to get to the center we had to take a local bus, and not being able to read or to have a bus map, this task can be tricky. They seem to not have a clear bus station(at least to us), and people hail these minivan type vehicles just about anywhere on the street. We jumped onto the one that seemed appropriate, looked around to see how much and when other passengers are paying the fare, and got off at a stop with everyone else, which was the downtown market area.

We walked to the bus station to purchase tickets, and then we stopped by at a post office to purchase two stamps. There, our patience was tested with people cutting in line and ended up waiting for an hour and a half. Later, we came back to the market to buy food for upcoming train ride, and this made up for our half-confused, half-culturally overwhelmed experience in the governmental organization.

The following morning was raining but we still went on our small trip to the world's famous puddle, and after an hour and a half on a minibus, we came to a shore. We were able to see nothing the lake is known for on this particular day, as the rain mudded the water, wind pounded waves to the shore, and the fog lessened the visibility. Nonetheless it was worth the trip. We walked around for a few hours and headed back to prepare for the final stretch on the Trans-Siberian Railway, on to Mongolia.

Traveling on Trans-Siberian Railway: Tomsk to Irkutsk

Distance:  1,541km

Traveling time: about 33 hours

Time difference: +2 hours

When deciding on our schedule, Sahe suggested Tomsk to be our place for the first stopover. The Russia's largest college town with 5 universities,  the city for the population of 470,000 is also known for the preserved traditional wooden houses with decoratively carved window casings, commonly seen in Siberian architecture. We walked around town, getting ourselves lost as always, and finding more than what was mentioned in the guide book. People appeared more friendly and less hesitant on speaking in English.

After buying food at supermarket for the train, we decided to eat at a Uzbekistan restaurant. I know nothing about this country. We ordered pilaf and fried noodles, and they were fantastic. I may have been expecting Middle Eastern flavor, but it was clearly Asian and this was such eye opening that made me want to go to one of the "...stan"s. Maybe from Urumqi we can cross the border into Kazakhstan. How can I convince Sahe to want to go there? When should I bring this up?

Our next train, leaving on the same day we arrived, was more retro than the one out of Moscow. When we walked into our cabin, there were already people putting away their luggage under the seats. We do the same, roll out a torn-up and dusty matress on the seat, cover it up with sheets and lay down, using the valuable bag as a pillow.

Counting sheeps for a few hours until the dawn. 

Traveling on Trans-Siberian Railway: Moscow to Tomsk

Distance:  3,644km

Traveling time: about 54 hours

Time difference: +3 hours

When we began discussing the plan for the journey over a year ago, traveling across the largest country by the railway was my first nomination for things to do, and we are at the train station in Moscow, waiting for the departure time. The presumption of this ride, put together from 15 minute Japanese TV shows about various train rides, is relaxed with soothing music in the background, and beautiful scenery passing through in a window like shuffle of paintings. However, after spending a full day in a monstrous city of Moscow, and now seeing many people squatting on a platform in front of luggage piled up like a fort, the reality of 3 day train ride was finally revealing itself . With our bags strapped to our back and front, we show our tickets and passports to the conductor, and squeeze through the narrow aisle into our 4-berth cabin. The train started to move slowly, and we realize we are the only ones in the cabin. After experiencing the difficulty of having two other guys in a tiny room, this was a treat. We took everything out of the bag and laid them out, as if we have claimed our territory. It is funny how such little thing can give one a sense of comfort.

The cabin comes with two sofa-beds, two folding bunks on top, a table with a cloth, sheets, blankets and towels. Since there is no shower, we wiped our bodies with wet towel, put on our comfy sleeping wear with sandals, and were all set for the long ride ahead, local style, learned from previous rides. The dining car seemed to have an elaborate menu, but we assumed from our experience on Scandinavian trains that it would be costly. We purchased bread and cheese, apples and cookies, and in addition we went to Asian market in Helsinki to stock up on noodles. Our portable pots certainly worked out well. Cups and mineral water should also be on the must-to-bring list.

Train stays only for a few minutes at some stations, and over half hour in others, enough to get off, stretch out, and have local people crowd you with souvenir. It was nice to have the schedule printed out in advance. Otherwise time passes slowly on a train that rides on average of 60km/hr(45mph). 

Our Fourth of July this year was without fireworks, booze, and friends/family; that's one thing to look forward to when we move to New York next year.