Peryferie
Menu
  • polski
  • Films
  • HOME
  • Planet Earth
  • Human Nature
  • Customs
  • Countries
    • Azerbaijan
    • Burma
    • China
    • India
    • Indonesia
    • Iran
    • Japan
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Malaysia
    • Mongolia
    • Nepal
    • Pakistan
    • Russia
    • Singapore
    • South Korea
    • Sri Lanka
    • Taiwan
    • Thailand
    • Vietnam
    CHAPTER 17 – GANJA AND SHAKI, AZERBAIJAN
    Jul 21, 2019
    CHAPTER 17 – GANJA AND SHAKI, AZERBAIJAN
    CHAPTER 16 – YANAR DAG, AZERBAIJAN
    Jul 14, 2019
    CHAPTER 16 – YANAR DAG, AZERBAIJAN
    CHAPTER 15 – BAKU, AZERBAIJAN
    Jun 20, 2019
    CHAPTER 15 – BAKU, AZERBAIJAN
    The Shwedagon Pagoda – magnificent witness of the Buddhist novitiation
    Aug 13, 2017
    The Shwedagon Pagoda – magnificent witness of the Buddhist novitiation
    Jiankou – the Great Wall of China and how not to fall from it
    Feb 12, 2017
    Jiankou – the Great Wall of China and how not to fall from it
    Kawah Ijen – the infernal beauty
    Feb 19, 2017
    Kawah Ijen – the infernal beauty
    The true face of Iran
    Jan 20, 2020
    The true face of Iran
    CHAPTER 21 – YAZD, IRAN
    Sep 1, 2019
    CHAPTER 21 – YAZD, IRAN
    CHAPTER 21 – KASHAN, IRAN
    Aug 25, 2019
    CHAPTER 21 – KASHAN, IRAN
    CHAPTER 20 – SNOWBOARDING IN IRAN
    Aug 18, 2019
    CHAPTER 20 – SNOWBOARDING IN IRAN
    Legends of Nikko
    Apr 9, 2017
    Legends of Nikko
    CHAPTER 14 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part II
    Jun 1, 2019
    CHAPTER 14 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part II
    CHAPTER 13 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part I
    May 15, 2019
    CHAPTER 13 – THE SILK ROAD, KAZAKHSTAN part I
    Chapter 11 – Almaty, Kazakhstan
    Feb 2, 2019
    Chapter 11 – Almaty, Kazakhstan
    Chapter 10 – Pavlodar, Kazakhstan
    Jan 11, 2019
    Chapter 10 – Pavlodar, Kazakhstan
    CHAPTER 12 – BISHKEK, KYRGYZSTAN
    Apr 30, 2019
    CHAPTER 12 – BISHKEK, KYRGYZSTAN
    The two faces of Issyk-Kul
    Nov 1, 2018
    The two faces of Issyk-Kul
    Malacca – from a mouse deer to the UNESCO World Heritage Site
    Jan 8, 2017
    Malacca – from a mouse deer to the UNESCO World Heritage Site
    Chapter 9 – Ulgii, Mongolia
    Dec 26, 2018
    Chapter 9 – Ulgii, Mongolia
    Chapter 8 – Khovd, Mongolia
    Nov 30, 2018
    Chapter 8 – Khovd, Mongolia
    Between the Worlds
    Nov 28, 2018
    Between the Worlds
    Chapter 7 – Bayankhongor, Mongolia
    Nov 25, 2018
    Chapter 7 – Bayankhongor, Mongolia
    A mountain life of Nepal – trekking through the Himalayas
    Mar 26, 2017
    A mountain life of Nepal – trekking through the Himalayas
    Guardian angels with Kalashnikov
    Sep 29, 2019
    Guardian angels with Kalashnikov
    The Spirit of Buryatia
    Oct 25, 2018
    The Spirit of Buryatia
    The Two Temples of Posolskoye
    Sep 16, 2018
    The Two Temples of Posolskoye
    Chapter 4 – Buryatia, Russia
    Aug 21, 2018
    Chapter 4 – Buryatia, Russia
    Chapter 3 – Krasnoyarsk, Russia
    Aug 6, 2018
    Chapter 3 – Krasnoyarsk, Russia
    Thaipusam – the way of finding bliss
    Mar 29, 2018
    Thaipusam – the way of finding bliss
    The oldest barbershop in Singapore
    Apr 27, 2017
    The oldest barbershop in Singapore
    Thaipusam – when body becomes a sacrifice
    Mar 12, 2017
    Thaipusam – when body becomes a sacrifice
    The Lion Dance – dancing into the Lunar New Year
    Feb 7, 2017
    The Lion Dance – dancing into the Lunar New Year
    Buddhism at the hanging rock
    Dec 28, 2017
    Buddhism at the hanging rock
    Fish Market in Jaffna, Sri Lanka
    May 7, 2017
    Fish Market in Jaffna, Sri Lanka
    Tidal Waves
    Jan 30, 2018
    Tidal Waves
    Damnoen Saduak – Thai market that rocks
    Oct 30, 2017
    Damnoen Saduak – Thai market that rocks
    Maeklong – Thai market for adrenaline rush seekers
    Sep 11, 2017
    Maeklong – Thai market for adrenaline rush seekers
    Foodie guide to Vietnam
    Mar 5, 2017
    Foodie guide to Vietnam
    Ho Chi Minh’s vibrant streets
    Dec 1, 2016
    Ho Chi Minh’s vibrant streets
  • The Journey
  • About
Peryferie
  • polski
  • Films
  • HOME
  • Planet Earth
  • Human Nature
  • Customs
  • Countries
    • Azerbaijan
    • Burma
    • China
    • India
    • Indonesia
    • Iran
    • Japan
    • Kazakhstan
    • Kyrgyzstan
    • Malaysia
    • Mongolia
    • Nepal
    • Pakistan
    • Russia
    • Singapore
    • South Korea
    • Sri Lanka
    • Taiwan
    • Thailand
    • Vietnam
  • The Journey
  • About
Kyrgyzstan, Planet Earth

The two faces of Issyk-Kul

posted by Aleksandra Wisniewska
Nov 1, 2018 6213 0 0
Share

In Bishkek they told us, there is no point in going to Issyk-Kul at this time of the year. It is already long past the peak season. There is nothing there anymore. But stubborn as we are, in late October, we set off on tour around the second largest mountain and saline lake in the world.

At the northern side of the lake, there is nothing but beaches. Now, all are almost empty. Small shops and cafes in tin barracks are closed. Tired after the summer season, bouncy castles lie deflated beside thin skeletons of bungee jumping. On the banks of the lake, cruise ships drop off scales of summer paint and fall into the winter hibernation.

However, there are still traces of life in post-summer ghost towns. Strolling barefoot on the muddy sand, we encounter locals. Elderly gentlemen in elegant felt kalpaks offer us apples. We chat in broken Russian with grandmas in flowery headscarves. All of them tightly wrapped in sheepskin coats. They enjoy the last rays of the beautiful autumn sun.

Others are here as a necessity – to chase after herds of cows and sheep. Shepherds on horseback loudly whistle and curse the troublesome cattle. Between all the curses and whistles, they nod their heads in a greeting: “As-Salaam-Alaikum”. Peace be unto you.

The animals, however, could not care less about annoyed herdsmen and fully take over the beach. Young bulls melancholically look across the lake towards the snow-capped peaks of the Terskey Alatau mountain range. Starlings hitchhike on horsebacks. While shepherds whistle and curse some more, kids jump out from behind closed shops. They shout and laugh in the enthusiasm of wild fun.

We walk through this chaos, smiling. For us, these post-summer beaches are better than luxurious resorts during the peak season.

The town at the back of the beach does not seem likely to fall into a winter sleep either. The small local shops buzz with life. Kids are waving at us with their free hand, while in the other one, they hold a rope that ends with a cow. Next to them, men clad in nylon jackets, squatting in a beautiful Asian style, drink the afternoon beer. Their wives push strollers with the next generation. Smiles full of pride and gold teeth brighten women’s faces.

We drive through these scenes as if through slides of memories. I remember sitting at a similar shop in the countryside with my grandparents. My grandmother shone with pride, showing me to all her friends while my grandpa enjoyed an afternoon beer with his buddies. Even the fragrance of autumn in the air is the same.

Only, this scene with boys on horses is strange, unknown, exotic. With rosy cheeks, they gallop on horseback in a wild chase through a pitch. It reminds a school ground, but instead of goals, there are two clay cones. Instead of a ball – a goat’s stuffed skin. Boys tug on it and pull it. They fight for it pushing each other off the saddles. Once, the goat ends up in one of the clay cones, even a dog roaming between horse hoofs howls of joy. We are watching the traditional game of kok-boru.

We absorb all of this with at the backdrop of the Tienshan mountains. At first, they appear as not too tall rusty hills. Throughout the road, they turn into colossus sprinkled with a powder of snow. Beautiful. Powerful. The golden carpet of the steppe spreads at their feet. Muslim cemeteries dot its surface with brick castle-like tombs. At their tops – a crescent of the moon – an ancient symbol of the Ottoman Empire, today identified with Islam.

We stop, on average, every two hundred meters to take a picture. But what to capture? The colossus of the northern Kyungei Alatoo mountain range? Or maybe waters of Issyk-Kul Lake turned into a fiery spectacle by the setting sun? Or should we point the camera at levitating above the lake ghosts of the Terskey Alatau mountains?

We will decide tomorrow. Now we head towards a wild beach where we stay for the night.

A family of seven wakes us up in the morning. On the ground, women spread blankets in elaborate Kyrgyz patterns. Men pull food and drinks out of a car trunk. They offer us some sour cheese “kurut” and vodka. It is ten in the morning.

During their breakfast, the entire family closely watches my attempts to enter the lake.

Issyk-Kul translates to Warm Lake. In summer – maybe. Now in the late autumn, the icy water attacks my body with thousands of sharp pins. Minutes later, numb from cold, I do not feel anything. But it all pays off, as I get enthusiastic applause from the seven spectators on the shore. Despite shivering like aspen, I manage to stretch my trembling lips into a grin of pride.

A few hours later, we bid our farewells to the group as it was our own family. We exchanged hardly a few words, but they already want to adopt us. Among all hugs and kisses, they try to persuade us to go with them. But we are heading in the opposite direction, to Karakol.

This cultural melting pot is the fourth largest city of Kyrgyzstan and the capital of the Issyk-Kul region. Here, the over a century old Orthodox Church – beautifully decorated with a lace of wooden carvings – stands in the vicinity of the mosque. A very unusual one. If it were not for a small minaret, we would take it for a Chinese pagoda. No wonder. The mosque serves Muslims from China – Dungan people. Time and again, we pass narrow, low-rise houses. All of them are wooden, covered with a thin layer of white plaster. With beautifully decorated windows, they look exactly like those in Buryatia. It is a legacy of the wealthy Siberian merchants who settled here in the times of the tsarism.

We get to know the cultural diversity with all our senses, but especially with taste. Central Bazaar has a flavour of Dungan ashlan-fu. Two types of noodles – rice and wheat – float in cold sour and spicy soup. The Uzbek bakers in the local bakery make golden rings of mai tokoch – oil bread. Baked in a tandyr clay oven, with home-made plum jam and sour cream, it tastes like heaven. And for supper, we try lagman – broad stripes of noodles under a thick cover of meat and vegetables. It will not be easy to fall asleep, but it is so worth it.

Karakol is a border town between northern and southern banks of Issyk-Kul lake. The two sides cannot be more different from each other. The North is a paradise for sun and beach lovers. It is full of crowds and interactions. The South is for those who look for solitude, peace and silence. Two completely different sides of the same coin.

For two days, on the southern part, we wander on the mountain trails snaking along the emerald river. We trek rocky backwoods with paths made by herds of sheep, hike between snow-capped peaks and rainbow sandstone canyons. We pass fairy-tale villages, clinging to enormous, maroon rock formations. Their wooden houses covered with clay sit between branch-made fences. Through the muddy village pathways, babushka drags firewood. Spotting us, she goes straight to the business and asks if we want to rent a horse or buy some honey.

On a mountain clearing, in the middle of a crown made of snow-capped peaks, between patches of snow we eat hard-boiled eggs, tomatoes and lepioshka – hand-made, flatbread. We drink coffee from a thermos and feed a stray dog. A group of lumberjacks come for a chat, while they load fallen trees onto the trailer. A few minutes later, they disappear.

It is so peaceful and quiet here. The only sounds are the wind between the trees and the dog happily munching on the leftovers.

Beaches in the South are also different – wilder.

We get to know their wild side on the last day. For hours we try to dig up our homebulance stuck up to the drive shaft in the sand. We break our off-road traps, which were supposedly so strong that they have a lifetime warranty. We strain muscles the existence we never even suspected. And when we almost win the fight, the sky falls on us with freezing rain. The car gets stuck even deeper.

Finally, rescue appears in the form of a passing-by driver, and we are free to go back to Bishkek. When we left the capitol, it was a beautiful golden autumn. We come back in a harsh winter -five days later. Five days – a time way too short to experience Issyk-Kul fully. Even during the off-season.

culturehistorynature
Share

Previous

The Spirit of Buryatia

Next

Chapter 7 - Bayankhongor, Mongolia

FACEBOOK

Cover for Peryferie
2,814
Peryferie

Peryferie

Ambulance around the world. Karetką dookoła świata.
From Poland to Alaska.

Peryferie is feeling lovely at Narwiański Park Narodowy.

4 months ago

Peryferie
Mr. Czarek is climbing Giewont. He's climbing because he doesn't want to take the cable car. That would be a bit like cheating. Like putting a motor on a shallow, wooden punt boat. An acquaintance of his suggested it. An electric one, and cheap, but Mr. Czarek said no – he prefers an oar. A wooden one, three meters and thirty-seven centimetres long. It's perfectly enough on the Narew because it's a shallow river. You can walk from one bank to the other without even getting your waist wet. And this year, it's very shallow indeed. He has never seen the water so low. Though on the bends, it can still reach up to three meters. The whole oar disappears. And with an oar, you can probe the bottom. You know where there’s sand, where there’s silt, where there are stones. With an oar, you get to know the riverbed by Braille. By touching. Motors only scare the fish away. And some people still use petrol ones. Even though it's forbidden in the Narew National Park. What can you do? People are irresponsible.Mr. Czarek is climbing Giewont. He listens to the birds and thinks how different they are from the ones back home on the Narew. There, in the reeds, live the reed warblers. Tiny, inconspicuous little birds, but they screech to high heaven! Non-stop, as if their tiny lungs didn't even need to draw breath. They screech but beautifully, not like rooks. He recently saw a kestrel chasing them off. They were probably attacking its nest. All by herself, smaller than two rooks, the kestrel didn’t back down. A tenacious parent. Here, on the way to Giewont, he thinks he hears finches. There, by the river, there are red-backed shrikes. They rarely sing, but when they do, they can weave imitations of other birds into their characteristic calls. Why do they do that? Who knows. They have another name, too – butcher-birds. That one comes from the way they impale what they catch – insects, caterpillars – on thorns or sharp twigs. By the Narew, you can also hear willow warblers, skylarks, and cuckoos – measuring out time rhythmically, reliably, and slowly. And on the river, time itself seems to flow in slow motion. The river, too, flows unhurriedly. Its current rarely speeds up. Well, unless a storm is coming. Then it ripples restlessly, combed by the wind. Mr. Czarek doesn’t go out on the water in a storm. It’s terrifying. It gets so dark you could poke your eye out. Lightning cut the sky like a luminous scalpel. Not at all from top to bottom, as gravity would have it. Sometimes sideways, defying physics. The Narew itself sometimes stands defiant against the world's order. It can flow against the current. That's because of the Vistula, which it flows into. When the queen of rivers swells too much, it pushes into the Narew's channel and shoves it upstream.Pushes it upstream, just as Mr. Czarek pushes himself up Giewont. And why is he pushing himself like this? And why these mountains, anyway? Well, somehow, in his old age, he decided to climb Giewont. Because why not? It was always the river, so for a change, he decided to carry his sixty-plus crosses up and place them next to the one on Giewont. He’d only ever been to the Czech Bohemian Paradise once. Beautiful! But the water was expensive as hell! Beer was twice as cheap, but water?! What a scheme they came up with! And Mr. Czarek doesn’t drink alcohol. He used to drink a beer now and then, but he no longer likes the taste. Non-alcoholic? He hasn't tried it. Is it any good? Well, you have to know which one to get and to know that, how many would you have to try.Mr. Czarek is not complaining, absolutely not! He's in good shape. His health is holding up. It's probably because of the Narew and the oar. He keeps moving. He pops out for some fishing almost every day. He likes catching pike the most. But only the big, grown ones. He releases all the small ones. Some catch even the fry. What can you do? People are irresponsible. And then there are the poachers. They cast nets and catch whatever they can. And the police? Well, what about the police? The police know exactly who, where, and when. But they do nothing. Mr. Czarek, in fact, usually releases what he catches. He only keeps enough for himself and his wife. A pike, a perch. He's heard you can catch an eel, but he never has. He heard it from someone he can trust. Others sometimes tell tall tales. There are also asps. Those aren't very tasty. There was this one fellow here who would catch fish and sell them to buy booze. The priest's housekeeper once asked him to catch her something, just not an asp, because it’s not tasty, and the priest would be angry. As luck would have it, an asp was all that bit. So what did he do? He took it to the presbytery. The woman knew nothing about fish, so she didn’t even recognise. Well, what can you do? People are irresponsible. They don't respect the river. And the Narew, though narrow and shallow, can be surprising. It is, after all, still an element. How many times have people drowned? A group of young people were once walking along the bank. Right by the water's edge. And the bank is undermined, of course. The grass covers the washed-out patches, and you don't even know when you might fall into the river. And as luck would have it, a girl fell in just like that. Mr Czarek happened to be fishing nearby in his punt. He fished the girl out, too. God, how scared she was! She'll remember it for the rest of her life. He's pulled out people who couldn't respect the river a few times now. That's why he prefers to stay away from people these days. Such human irresponsibility is too much for his nerves. He prefers to float into an oxbow lake.They call the Narew the "Polish Amazon" because it has so many backwaters, estuaries, and channels. If someone doesn't know it and goes kayaking, they can get lost. Not Mr. Czarek. He knows the Narew like his own backyard. The one in front of the house that was built in 'thirty-seven. Only that one and one other survived the war. He moved here from the town next door. Their borders meet, and if it weren't for the sign, you wouldn't know where one ends and the other begins. You enter the smaller one from the bigger one as if walking from a living room into a hallway. A natural extension. He used to live in an apartment block. This house was in his wife's family, and she inherited it. Maybe someday they'll move to the county town. When their strength runs out. Their daughter lives there with her husband. She's doing well for herself. She lectures in mathematics at the university. A smart girl. Sometimes, he and his wife pay them a "parental inspection" visit. They show up unannounced to see if everything is all right. And the daughter supposedly isn't expecting them, but she always seems to know. Her mother probably calls beforehand. Mr. Czarek doesn't call. He doesn't even answer. For him, the phone might as well not exist. He will, indeed, reply to a text message. But not right away. He doesn't take it to work – he's a welder – because what for? You either work or you make calls. Not when he's fishing, either, because it might fall into the water. And they make them so flimsy these days that a bit of rain is enough to make them stop working. He once had a flip phone. Damn! It fell in the water, he took the battery out, dried it, and it worked like new. And now?In the mountains, he would prefer not to have too many people around. Though he doesn't want to go alone either. Because if you don't know the way, you can get lost. This way, you can latch onto someone. It's different on the Narew. There, he floats with no one around. He'll glide into an oxbow lake, and it's as if he were sliding over a carpet. Leaves of yellow water-lilies and reeds. As if nature were casting a tapestry under his punt. He glides along, his punt a breaker of green, and sees paths woven into this tapestry with black, muddy threads. They are trodden tirelessly by the hooves of deer and wild boar, the claws of beavers, and the webbed feet of ducks.Nature rarely surprises Mr. Czarek, but sometimes it manages. He's fishing one day. Moored in the reeds as usual. He's smoking a cigarette – one for three sessions. It's healthier that way. And suddenly, he hears: splash, splash, splash. Splashing comes from the bank. A person couldn't get through those reeds. It must be an animal. But what kind? It's splashing loudly. Powerfully. It must be a moose. And indeed, out of the corner of his eye, Mr. Czarek sees a moose cow and her calf entering the Narew. Oh, it's a good thing they passed him by because he would have been no match for a worried mother. Not even with his oar – three meters, thirty-seven centimetres – which he had prepared just in case. And he probably wouldn't have used it anyway. He'd sooner swim to the other side. Mr. Czarek likes nature. Respects it. His dog used to sleep in the house and ate what the people ate. But only from your hand, because if you put the same food in his bowl, he wouldn't touch it. He recently saw on TV somewhere a dog drowning in a firefighting reservoir. There was another dog with him, and when it saw its friend in trouble, it ran to get a human. And went straight for a firefighter! Finally, it jumped into the water itself to save its companion. And let someone try to say that animals are not intelligent. That they have no soul! And that's why, for anyone who hurts them – the highest penalty. Or do the same thing to them that they did to the animal, like that senator who dragged his dog on a leash behind his car. Tie him to a car and let him feel what suffering is. Well, what can you do? People are irresponsible.Mr. Czarek walks up Giewont to place his sixty-odd crosses next to the single one, and he thinks. He would maybe go somewhere in a camper van, but his wife doesn't want to. She's gotten a bit lazy. He even has to pick her up from her sister's in the neighbouring town. Nine hours at work, and then off to fetch her. But he goes because he feels sorry for his wife. Thirty-six years together. A lifetime. You have to learn to compromise. You have to learn to be there for better or for worse. And that's why he will keep driving to fetch his wife. And he will drive her to do the shopping, and on Saturday, when she cleans – because she always cleans on Saturdays – he will escape the house so as not to be in the way. He will escape to his punt. To the Narew.The Narew is calm, unhurried, shallow. But it can surprise you. It can unexpectedly send a fire station and young firefighters who don't know if anyone in the area uses a punt. But his father will surely know. Oh! There he is now. The father – Piotr – is coming out of the little shop by the fire station with a beer and some crisps, and he knows. And he calls. He calls Mr. Czarek's wife because everyone knows Czarek won't answer. For him, the phone might as well not exist. His wife answers and arranges everything. Tomorrow at twelve, because Czarek works until eleven. He will be waiting behind the playground by the kayak rental. With his oar – three meters, thirty-seven centimetres long. It could be ten past twelve or even twenty past. He'll wait a bit. Well, unless there's a storm. Not then. He doesn’t go out on the water in a storm.#Narew #narewnationalpark ... See MoreSee Less

Photo

View on Facebook
· Share

Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Linked In Share by Email

Peryferie is at Kapadocja-Turcja.

4 months ago

Peryferie
Wraz z Onet Podróże zapraszamy w podróż do niezwykłej, bo... śnieżnej Kapadocji 😁🤩#kapadocja #turcjaOdkryłam tajemnice niezwykłej tureckiej krainy. Bajka wykuta w skale: Onet./Zdjęcia własnedlvr.it/TLF0S2 ... See MoreSee Less

Photo

View on Facebook
· Share

Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Linked In Share by Email

Peryferie is feeling puzzled with Andrzej Wiśniewski in Larnaca District, Cyprus.

9 months ago

Peryferie
He called me. The rate was standard for the first zone of the European Union. The connection was surprisingly good, considering he was calling from the 4th century BC.So, he calls and says that he was born here. Here in Larnaca, although then it was still called Citium. His name is Zeno. I know that because it showed up on my phone. I also scanned the QR code from the monument myself. I probably wouldn't have answered if I hadn't known who was calling. I usually don't answer calls from strangers.He introduced himself politely. Plus, his voice was pleasant and deep - a pleasure to listen to. So, I listened. And he says that he is the son of a merchant. The family was doing well; they lacked nothing because, in his time, Citium was a prominent trading port. He helped his father at work like a good son, being prepared to take over the business. Once, he sailed with goods - fabrics - to Athens. Normal thing - sell and come back. Not this time. The ship crashed, but he survived the disaster.This event changed his life. Yes, disasters tend to change lives. And contrary to popular belief, it is not always for the worse. Zeno himself sees the whole affair at sea as an extremely happy event. Thanks to this, he ended up in Athens, no longer as a merchant but as a man seeking knowledge and understanding. And he sought them from the great Greek philosophers. He soon became one of them himself. He taught that man should live in harmony with nature and accept everything that it sends with equal calmness. Even what is bad and negative from a human perspective. He delivered his teachings in the porticoes of the Athenian square called stoae. Hence, the name of his philosophy is Stoicism.I was surprised by his public speaking because, at the beginning of the conversation, he admitted that he did not like crowds. That he prefers nature, its harmony, wisdom and peace. I completely agree with him here, but apparently, the desire to spread knowledge was stronger than the self-preservation instincts. So, he went to the agora and preached his teachings. And in order not to be unfounded - he lived by them. He renounced wealth because it leads to nothing good. It only deepens divisions: the rich get richer, and the poor get even poorer. And he firmly believed that all people should be equal because equal they are. Period. The Athenians (certainly not all of them) liked his teachings so much that they gave him the Golden Laurel - a great distinction. What's more, they offered Zeno Athenian citizenship. However, he politely refused because he did not want to betray his native Citium.Zeno lived in Stoic tranquillity for a long time—for 98 years, he says—until finally, the Earth called him. How?"One day, I hit my toe; I think I even broke it. I knew right away that it was the Earth's calling. What to do. I said to Earth: "Yes, yes, I hear you! No need to shout like that." I lay down, closed my eyes, held my breath and died. But I've been talking here for far too long. And yet a man has only one mouth and two ears, which means he should talk less and listen more. Now go and explore my Larnaca, my Citium - says Zeno and hangs up.So, we're exploring. We explore the museum with the temple ruins of Citium. Maybe one of them was next to Zeno's house? Maybe. History locked in the remains of earthen walls is silent. But behind our backs, a lively and loud one unfolds. The ear-piercing screech of a beautiful blue parrot echoes. The elderly security guard catches it to his collection. According to the olden method, he put sticks smeared with a sticky substance on the pomegranate tree right next to the fruits, so plump they burst. If you put your finger on it, it will come off without any problems. The bird's tiny paws will not. It will get stuck until someone releases it. Or until it dies of hunger and exhaustion. The guard catches the parrot for his collection. Poachers en masse catch small migratory birds to the point of extermination of entire populations. They sell them to restaurants for bird shasliks - a traditional Cypriot dish. And what would Zeno say to that?He says nothing. Doesn't call anymore. Even when we visit his second monument on Europe Square. Around there are colonial buildings that once housed the port manager, the customs office and warehouses. Today, it is the City Hall, gallery and archive. Opposite is the promenade and marina with luxury yachts. And Zeno is nowhere to be seen. We walk, we search. We even illegally peek behind the ugly metal fences of the amusement park that is being dismantled. And we almost missed him, among the cables, scaffolding, metal parts and colourful lights that only yesterday were still carousels. He stands on a pedestal, which now serves as a stand for toolboxes, work gloves and half-empty water bottles. He stands in complete and utter chaos. And he stood like that when, for many months, human feet swirled above him. He stood in noise, din, and commotion. He stood and did not move. So stoic.Would he be just as stoic if he wasn't encased in stone?#cypr #cyprus #larnaka #larnaca_city #zenoofcitium #stoicyzm #stoicphilosophy ... See MoreSee Less

Photo

View on Facebook
· Share

Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share on Linked In Share by Email

Search

LEARN MORE

architecture cuisine culture customs history home nature religion

You Might Also Like

Planet Earth, Thailand
Oct 30, 2017

Damnoen Saduak – Thai market that rocks

An older man, tucked under a reed hat, stirs with a long ladle content of an aluminium pot that steams on a...

Read More
0 0
Japan, Planet Earth
Apr 9, 2017

Legends of Nikko

In a spacious restaurant, a family is looking for a shelter from the rain. Thousands of knick-knacks cover each...

Read More
0 0

Leave A Comment Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *


INSTAGRAM

peryferiemag

Karetką Dookoła Świata
Around the World in the Ambulance
From Poland to Alaska
📍 Our newest post 👇

Fragment podcastu, na całość zapraszamy do Dzia Fragment podcastu, na całość zapraszamy do Działu Zagranicznego.
Five years ago, we left Singapore. We sold out al Five years ago, we left Singapore.

We sold out almost seven years of life there, and what was left fit in three bags per person.

A perfect lesson in minimalism before an even bigger one - squeezing life into a homebulance.

We managed.

Just like, we managed to leave stability, safety and comfort behind. Exchange them at a very low rate for the inconvenience, uncertainty, and often pure fear.

What for? To have an adventure? Enjoy the adrenaline rush?

That too.

But most of all, to find what is important in yourself and follow it to the end.

Even if the mind loses its mind, and common sense tears the hair out of its head.

They quickly came around.

Because it was worth it. Because it is worth it.

Our journey continues. It takes different directions, but it's getting us closer to Alaska every day. Even when we're staying in one place. Every day we walk the path we chose five years ago, and every day we appreciate it even more.

Even though sometimes we don't feel like it and think that maybe enough is enough. But then we look back. At all the road turns we overcome, all the ups and downs, all the tears of frustration and happiness. And all the people who have blessed our path with their existence.

Then we look ahead. At the road turns that wind before us, and everything that awaits there. Mystery? Sadness? Joy? Friendships?

And let Alaska be somewhere there, far away. Let it exist so that it can be reached.

But let the journey itself last as long as possible.

#aroundtheworldintheambulance
“What a gorgeous building!”, we exclaim in uni “What a gorgeous building!”, we exclaim in unison at sight of ancient mud and wood structure. Pale, sun-washed arches of balconies crown the first floor. The ground floor pleases an eye with intricate carvings around the doors and windows. Uneven boards, slanted angles, moss-covered roof – somehow all these imperfections come together in a perfect structure. “It is the 14th-century Amburiq Mosque”, explains our guide. “You see, it is not only one of the oldest mosques in Baltistan but also a symbol of unity. Up until the 16th century, Baltistan was mostly Buddhist. Even though, when in the 14th century Amir Kabir Syed Ali Hamdani – the Persian Sufi – showed up, all the people of the Shigar came together to help him build this mosque. It is a blend of cultures and architectures that you can clearly see in the Kashmiri, Tibetan and Persian patterns, symbols and motifs captured in the building. It is also a symbol and a statement that all the people, no matter the beliefs nor origins, can live together, peacefully side by side. It was created centuries ago, but I believe it is still possible.”
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
#lppathfinders #polishtravelblogs #yourshotphotographer #lpfanphoto #travel #nationalgeographictraveler #instatravel #picoftheday #BBCTravel #natgeo #natgeopl #nationalgeographic #aroundtheworld #magazynpodroze #poznajswiat #kontynenty #magazynkontynenty #lpinstatakeover #prostozpodrozy #polacywpodrozy #culturetrip #pakistan #amburiqmosque #shigar #pakistan #aroundtheworldintheambulance
Capela do Senhor da Pedra - Miramar #portugal #po Capela do Senhor da Pedra - Miramar

#portugal #portugalia #miramar #vilanovadegaia #chapelofthelordofthestone #capeladosenhordapedra #yourshotphotographer
[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Pałac Ishaka Paszy [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Pałac Ishaka Paszy przy Doğubayazıt chcieliśmy zobaczyć zaraz po przekroczeniu granicy irańsko-tureckiej. Mimo że leży niecałe 40 kilometrów dalej – nie udało się. Pod osmańską budowlę dotarliśmy długo po zmroku.

Kilka godzin później przyjechała żandarmeria wojskowa. Opancerzony samochód. Mundurowi z bronią automatyczną.

Po eskorcie zbrojnej przez pakistański Beludżystan i po tym, jak irańskie służby trzymały nas na muszce karabinu, już nie zrobili na nas wrażenia.

Sami się nieco zdziwili. Po przekartkowaniu paszportów zrozumieli.

- W Turcji jest o wiele spokojniej niż u naszych sąsiadów. A poza tym, nie jesteśmy po to, żeby was straszyć, tylko żeby chronić przed atakami separatystów. Chociaż teraz to Kurdowie są spokojniejsi. Rząd im daje mieszkania, darmowe szkoły, pracę, dofinansowania to już się od Turcji mniej chcą odłączać.

Do żołnierza dołączył drugi.

- A pani to chustę już może ściągnąć. W Turcji już nie trzeba. My nie zmuszamy.

Wiedzą to też Iranki, przekraczające granicę irańsko-turecką.
Na przejściu granicznym mieliśmy okazję obserwować ich masową przemianę. Precz szły obszerne tuniki, sięgające kolan. Precz szły szale i burki. Precz szło wszystko, co uniemożliwiało wyrażanie siebie, swojej kobiecości.

Po dotknięciu tureckiej ziemi, jak za sprawą magii, niczym uśpione reżimem larwy jedna za drugą przemieniały się w barwne, wolne motyle. Chociaż na krótki czas. 

#turcja #turkey #ishakpashapalace #doğubeyazıt
[🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS] Fotograficzni intru [🇬🇧 ENGLISH IN COMMENTS]
Fotograficzni intruzi, czyli dlaczego rzadko pojawiamy się na naszych zdjęciach.

Jeszcze widać, że nie tak dawno toczyło się w nim życie. Że miał duszę, tak, jak ci którzy do niego przychodzili. Teraz stoi cichy, pusty. I piękny w tym, z jaką godnością poddaje się naciskowi czasu.

W jego wysłużonym, spracowanym wnętrzu staram się pozować. Na tle rozświetlonych foto-idealnym słońcem podwojów; na ambonie trzeszczącej historią i pachnącej próchnem; przy pustych wnękach osamotniałych kapliczek.
Staram się pozować i czuję się jak intruz.

Jakbym zawłaszczała sobie coś, co należy się naszym rzeczywistym bohaterom – stareńkiemu kościołowi, który kruszy się pod naciskiem czasu, ale robi to tak godnie i pięknie, że aż wzrusza; zatoczce na irańskiej wyspie Keszm, gdzie księżyc rozsrebrza noce tak bardzo, że wszystko wokół rzuca bajkowe cienie; ciekawskim mongolskim nomadom, którzy nalegają na wymianę numerów telefonów i prowadzenie przeuroczych w swojej dziwności mongolsko-polskich rozmów.

Nie czujemy się dobrze przed obiektywem, bo nie czujemy się go warci, kiedy dookoła dzieją się sceny, które powinniśmy rzeczywiście pokazywać.

Dlatego Kochani, mało nas widzicie na zdjęciach, ale to dlatego, że bardziej niż nasze malutkie osóbki, chcemy Wam pokazać wielki, przepiękny świat.

#portugal #portugalia #arrimal #serrasdeaireecandeeiros
Follow on Instagram
Copyrights © 2020 www.peryferie.com All rights reserved.
Back top