September 9

September 9, 1991 is the day Tajikistan formally declared independence from the Soviet Union. To celebrate school children lined the streets waiving flags and singing songs. Then processed to the local soccer stadium for more songs, traditional dances and arm wrestling. Like in other towns throughout the country, here in Ishkashim it is a big deal!

Therapy

In this photo my shoulder is still dislocated although I have been diagnosed with arthritis. Im no medical expert but Im pretty sure you cant fall off your bike and get arthritis. Everyone I meet is sure that I will be fine after a thereputic visit to Garm Chashma, a local hotspring. Needless to say it didnt work.

A Change of Transport

This was the day I fell. Despite the dislocated shoulder I had to get back on the bike and try to ride to find help. I hadn´t seen a vehicle all day long. It was no small miracle that after a painful 5km there was a house with a jeep!
The next day they would drive me two days til we found a doctor.

The man in the yellow hat has rubies in his pocket.

Yashıl Kul

Almost everyone asks me the same questions. In almost the same order. Where are you from? Are you alone? Are you scared? Are you married? How old are you?
Despite the language barrier I have learned to recognize each question and answer in Russian.
If I bump into some one who knows a little bit of English the next question is always ´What if it rains?´
If it rains, I put on my rain coat, rain pants and gloves. For the most part, I´ve been lucky with the weather. Today in Yashil Kul it poured but cleared up just as quickly as it came.

Snack Time!

I have a fantastic map of the Pamirs! It shows all the altitudes, distances and towns. It even has cute little symbols to tell you what each town has to offer, a clinic, a teahouse, a homestay, or a store. According to the map, there was going to be a limited selection of food outside of Murgab. So I stopped by the market and picked up some instant noodles and a few potatoes and carrots before I left town. Despite my menu planning, often they end up as dead weight.
What the map didnt say was that the few yurts scattered in the mountainside were inhabited by some of the most generous people I´ve ever met. More often than not I am offered bread, butter and tea. Sometimes they insist I take some to go.

Flags

Its a popular idea. Represent your country with a flag waiving off the back of your bike. I see lots swaying and fluttering victoriously behing a cyclist. I dont have one. Lately I dont feel so victorious about my country. (but thats for another blog entry)
A few weeks ago I stopped to chat with some cyclists headed in the opposite direction. We swapped route suggestions and warned eachother about the bad roads ahead. As they advised me where I could fill uo on water I eyed their blue flag with white cross on it. Feeling well travelled and in the know I said 'so you guys are from Scotland'. He looked at me like I was stupid. 'No. Quebec' he said.
Don't make the same mistake. This proud cyclist is in Murgab, Tajikistan not Mexico or Hungary.

Getting High

Whiteface Mountain1045m, Mt Rushmore 1745m, Mt Rainer 4352m, Mt Elbert 4401m. Bernadette in the Ak Baital Pass 4655m! All the tourist information for the Pamir region warn of altitude sickness and advise you to asend slowly. That was easily done. The only lightheadedness I felt came from the swelling of satisfaction. My daffy grin resulted not from the thin air but the pride of accomplishment.