Family

7/6/2015

I am quickly beginning to realize that this trip will me very little like what I expected it to be. After a 25 year absence there is a sense of obligation to see all the family that stayed back here. If I go running off into the hills I am sure I will be reminded of “ditching” family for a long time to come. I concluded that I would need to tame my wild side this time and make sure to come back here with the sole purpose of rambling and adventure. The next time will require the rental or purchase of a vehicle to go to all the places that I had wanted to visit.

We packed our bags and headed over to my uncle’s house in my hometown. We had planned an outing to a river that runs from the hills. But before heading out there we stopped by the house were I was born, my father’s elementary school, and a few of the houses of friends that moved out to the states with us. My father tried to look up teachers and classmates at the schoolhouse. Luckily the janitor was there and offered a bit of help in his search. We drove around town for a bit more and soon headed for the hills.

We got our little picnic area set up, had a delicious lunch (most of which was organic and fresh from their own garden), and tea from a wood fired “samovar”. After all the deliciousness I headed off for a short hike into the hills with my brother and Peter on my heels. We would climb to one peak and from it see the next and could not resist making it up to it. This happened several times. Climbing, mountaineering is like that. You climb on one mountain and from it you see a peak of another that has yet to be summited. So we kept going up and up and gained about 2500 ft (5030 ft above sea level) in an hours hike. My hometown lay to the north and beyond it the flat lands of the Kazakh step. To the south the peaks kept getting higher eventually getting high enough to be covered in snow. I wish I could have kept going.

Back at my uncles house we fired up the “Banya” and washed up. The house was cozy and rugs lined the floors and walls. There were several sheds and storage areas attached to the house, a courtyard, garage and gazebo. Wherever there was no structure there was dirt, and where there was dirt there was something edible growing in it. That’s one thing about a “Datcha”, or house away from the city, there was always a garden and the household was almost completely self-sustaining when if came to food.

I was beginning to get antsy, but I felt I needed to continue to show my family respect and spend time with them. Through out all the moving around I always kept one eye on the mountains.