Scene from Sigsig

Years ago I spent an afternoon in a small town called Sigsig, about 60 km from Cuenca, in Ecuador. You could read a little about that experience in my blog post here. At that time of writing, I was on the road and didn’t have the chance to upload this photo, which to me perfectly captured the mood of that afternoon: a lady in a white bowler hat, a little shop with a signage that reminded me of of the name of a friend who was 10,000 miles away, and the slanted afternoon sun.

Funny isn’t it, that our memories can be carved in a particular standstill of a moment even though what we had experienced was really much more fluid.

Last year, I decided to take up oil painting. That scene has now been transported on to canvas in July!

 

The Salt of the Earth

In 2013, when Sebastiao Salgado’s ‘Genesis’ photo exhibition was premiered in the Natural History Museum in London, I had the urge to fly into London just to see the exhibition. Such was the draw of a photographer who seemed to me both adventurer and artist, a winning combination of a dream life. It would have been extravagant for me to make that trip to London. Fortunately a year later, the ‘Genesis’ exhibition  travelled to Singapore and I got to see them in the National Museum.

The 2014 film ‘The Salt of the Earth’ is about Salgado and the extraordinary images that he has captured throughout 40 years. Some of the most stunning and seemingly unbelievable images are that of the Serra Pelada goldmines of Brazil where swarms of people climb up ladders in ant like fashion – these photographs froze in time the height and madness of the gold rush. In the photographer’s own words, “when I reached the edge of that enormous hole, in a split second I saw unfolding before me the history of mankind. The building of the pyramids, the Tower of Babel, the mines of King Solomon”.

Salgado built his career and name as a social photographer: his photos of war, grief, poverty and suffering brought the world’s attention to these plights. These are not photographs that are easy to see. What goes through a person’s mind when thrusted upon with the sight of cholera, corpses and genocide in 1980s-90s Africa? A photographer isn’t just an image-maker, he or she is also a story teller, a quality which Salgado also demonstrated through his compassionate narration in the film. And yet the photographer’s job requires the unflinching steely clicks of the camera to tell the story as it is.

The ‘Genesis’ series remain my favourite: these photographs take us to the Galapagos islands (once my dream islands!), the paw of a Galapagos iguana that reminds me of a sequined ladies’ glove, the human-like penguin colonies in the Antarctic, the eye of a whale peeking out from her oceanic home, the depths of the Amazonian jungle with polyandry ladies of the Zo’e tribe and more. The photographs remind us of our pristine natural world. And in my case, sowing more (if that’s even possible) seeds of wanderlust.

I just watched this film today at a film festival and I highly recommend it!

Symbols!

See the similarities in the symbol on the Kyrgyzstan flag and the crown of the yurt?

Kyrgyzstan flag with Lenin Peak in the background.

Crown of a yurt

I want to live in a round / circular space like in a yurt.

The Trans-Alay Range/ the Pamirs

15 September 2015

I spent the whole afternoon strolling (and rolling!) on these golden meadows, with clear sight of snowy Lenin Peak.

What a glorious day to greedily bask in the sun before the temperatures drop drastically when the sun sets.

At lake Tolpur Kol, about 3500m above sea level.

Looking at Lenin Peak, standing at 7134 meters tall, the highest peak of the Trans-Alay Range, the northern part of the Pamirs. At the borders of Kyrgyzstan and Tajikistan.

I love these shadows over the pastures as the sun sets.

Banya (bath)

After days of lush alpine scenery, I left Karakol for Bishkek. Originally I had intended to leave Bishkek as the last stop before I return to Almaty. Alas to catch a transfer to Arslanbob  I must go to the capital.

The mashrutka (minibus) from Karakol took a whopping 6 hours with a change of spare tire. Along the way the road meanders along a bit of the northern shore of lake Issyk-Kol. Issyk-Kol is 170km long and 70km across – so that’s probably about 8 times the size of Singapore. It’s the second largest alpine lake after Lago Titicaca of Peru and Bolivia.

After arranging for the shared taxi to Arslanbob  (which will be a gruelling 12 hours ride) tomorrow, I decided to check out the banya that’s across the hotel.

Like most public baths I have been to in other countries, this bath is a place for people to unwind and socialise. Despite the amusing exterior, I’d consider it a good bath place and it’s very clean.  Under the big domes are cold pools – the women section’s pool is gorgeous. Fresh out of the baking hot sauna, I walked to the pool ready to dunk in. After all, a few days ago I had been strengthened by kymis – the traditional fermented mare’s milk that bred centuries of fearless nomadic horsemen in the great steppes.

Alas, I lasted a mere five seconds in the cold water.

In the pool, a lady in her 60s was doing laps.

Optional are some twigs for self flogging.

Wall decor of the waiting area.

I paid a bit more for a massage and it was heavenly.

          

Ala-kol

Just came down from the mountains after four days three nights.

It was a hard climb up to Ala-Kol lake and very steep climb up to the pass. Scary was the descent over snow-covered scree on a steep face. And camping in such cold conditions was excruciating. Note to self – next time, don’t visit later than August!

More of the hike later. Meanwhile here’s a photo of Ala-Kol, taken while my fingers were still nimble.

Over the celestial mountains

4 September 2015

Flew from Hong Kong to Almaty. The good weather reveals part of the magnificent Tien Shan – literally the ‘celestial mountains’.

Somewhere to the south-west of Urumqi and north of Korla, China.

Border crossing

It’s been a while since I crossed borders by land (not counting Johor-Singapore) so I was looking forward to this one.

Starting from Almaty, I took a mashrutka (minibus) to Kegen. Along the way the minibus stopped for a break at a market where I grabbed some lunch.

The minibus dropped me off at Kegen in the rain where I managed to get a taxi driver (that’s just anyone with a car) to take me to the border.

Ever since yesterday’s belated realisation while in Almaty that 1) I don’t speak Russian 2) I can’t read cryllic, I got even more nervous about the trip. But so far the trip went well.

The Karkara  region must be rather beautiful though the grey clouds and horizons peppered by rain and laced with mist makes it hard to see. Large trucks transporting big blocks of straws lumbered on the unpaved roads leading to the border.

Arrived at the border control. So this is it? There’s nobody else crossing except for me. I was directed to a shed in the rain.

After that I was asked to open my bag for checking on a mud-splashed table. But I’m leaving Kazakhstan! Felt a tad annoyed as I had earlier painstakingly packed everything compactly into the bag. The rain went on. The customs officer seemed to realise it was not easy to stuff the things back in and let me off a bit easier.

I walked towards the Kyrgyzstan side in the rain.

On the Kyrgyzstan side, the officer asked me a few simple questions and stamped my passport : yay!

I’m glad I had arranged for transport on the Kyrgyzstan side. I don’t think it would have been much fun to wait for public transport -if any exists!- in the rain.

After more rain and some hail, the weather cleared up. The pastures sitting at the foot of the great alpines reveal themselves.

Nomadic shepherds (they only herd for a few months a year) are everywhere.

Istanbul – a photo essay

It’s been a while since I wrote a travel post. I don’t have many words for Istanbul now; this trip to Turkey took place last October. I will write a few more posts of the other cities in Turkey. For now, I have chosen some photos that I have taken in Istanbul, photos that I liked. Writing a photo essay is quite a contradiction: photos capture a fleeting moment frozen in time. Yet our memories stretch and contract fluidly with time. Photos are the anti-thesis of memory, really.

I walked past the famous Grand Bazaar a couple of times and finally it was opened as I was there. As bazaars go, it was underwhelming despite its size. Walking out of the bazaar, I was hungry for meatballs and this was where I found myself for lunch, people-watching off the cobbled streets in the Sultanahamet district (old city) of Istanbul.

Still in the Sultanahamet district, off the main streets in a quieter section, second hand shoes are being sold. These shoes wouldn’t have lasted this long in equatorial climate.

On pigeon-flocked Taksim Square, where mass protests that reportedly drew 200,000 protestors took place just less than one and a half years ago.

I wanted to walk through Istanbul University, just to have a feel of what being a student was like in this modern transcontinental city steeped in history. Alas, the university was closed off to those without the appropriate passes. There were guards and gantries at every possible entrance (I did try to look for a place to slip-in but to no success…) Outside some of Istanbul University’s entrances were stationery sellers like this one.

On the surface, Istanbul could be easily mistaken for a European city if not for a skyline dotted with minarets and regular resounding calls to prayers. Some people may find this exotic. Or strange. Or uneasy. But I spent most of my growing years waking up to prayer calls from a mosque near where we stayed. The morning azans were literally my wake-up calls, that sometimes get earlier and earlier, depending on the time of the year. In the Sultanahmet, the most famous mosques would be the Blue Mosque and the Suleymaniye. And in spite having been to many mosques in several countries, the intricate arabesques of these still inspire awe and reflection. One particular thing that stood out to me was how there were staff/volunteers on hand to explain the religion of Islam to foreign visitors who wished to learn more. This is a wonderfully smart move, something that many Muslim countries including Malaysia, could learn from. The other famous landmark, the Ayasofya (or Hagia Sophia), was a Byzantine (Greek Orthodox) Church which was later converted into a mosque, and now secularised as a museum.

Walking across the Galata Bridge in the evening – flanked by anglers, chaotic traffic, after-work crowds, prayer calls reverberating in the air against the backdrop of undulating hills and the silhouette of minarets and voluptuous domes – is an atmosphere that simply cannot be captured by the camera.

I really liked this mural.

For a few days, I stayed in a small street off Turan Caddesi, not far from Taksim Square. A stark contrast to the vibrancy on Istiklal Caddesi – where parties, music and dancing go on to the wee hours of the morning – these quiet streets house residential buildings or short-term stay apartments. In the evening, children play football on the streets.

Istanbul is Europe-meets-Asia sliced across by the Bosphorus Straits (photo at the end of this post). In the Asian-part of Istanbul is Kadikoy, which is primarily a residential area, with trams serving the district that is also dotted by charming cafes, shops and bookstores.

Still in Kadikoy, the Asian side of Istanbul. Adorning the flats are portraits of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk, who, following the defeat of the Ottoman Empire in World War I, was said to have founded the modern republic of Turkey.

And how can anyone who visit Istanbul miss the mighty Bosphorus Straits? The straits join the Sea of Marmara and the Black Sea. On my first day in Istanbul, I spotted a pair of dolphins. I would return to the straits a few more times.

This photo belies the massive amount of traffic that flows between the two continents. With a population of 14.1 million, Istanbul is not just the largest city in Turkey, it is said to be one of the largest cities in Europe, that is, if Turkey can be considered as part of Europe. Accession talks for Turkey to join the European Union started in 2005 and it is still ongoing.

Lupines in Iceland

June 2014

As the plane descended into Keflavik, massive fields of lupine spread out as far as the eye could see. In the days to come, these lush purple dominated the greener landscapes of Iceland that we saw.

Originally from Alaska, the lupines were introduced to Iceland in the 1940s. They grew like wildfire and are now considered to be an invasive species in Iceland.