Skiing Adventures

Misha all bundled up and skiing like a pro.

This winter, Misha and I got to go skiing for the first time in our lives - Misha at age 7 and me at 32! Since Kyrgyzstan is covered in mountains, it's a great place to learn. And since its ski resorts aren't huge and fancy, it's also a cheap place to learn. We got lucky because one of Josh's students works at the ski base Zil just outside of Bishkek, and he often has room in his car to take us out and back for the day. Josh went with him a few times over our winter break to ski and snowboard (which came back to him quickly despite the several-year interlude), and the last two Saturdays, Misha and I went along as well. Josh was able to give us pointers, ride with Misha on the ski lift, and help us stand up when we were all tangled up in our skis.

Misha and I were very proud of our first-day achievements. We managed to ski down the mountain, on our own, five times. Skiing in itself is not hard; it's everything else - like slowing down, stopping when you want to, getting back up when you're down, or side-stepping up the mountain to collect your ski poles that you dropped behind you or a ski that popped off ...

Misha did a great job. Eager to jump right in and try it by himself, he fell often on the first run down the mountain (as did I), but after that, he was cool and confident, snow-ploughing down with his skis pointed together in the front to control his speed as Daddy showed him. Every time our paths criss-crossed, he would chirp happily, "Hi, Mom!" and keep right on going.

We've been told that Zil is one of the nicer ski bases near Bishkek. It's not huge; it has one chair lift and two small pole lifts, and only two or three ski paths. It's missing a lot of luxuries, meaning you have to go to the bathroom in a freezing outhouse and put your ski equipment on by your car. However, there is a small cafe that serves tea and shashlik. And it's more than enough to have a lot of fun! (The biggest resort in Kyrgyzstan is in Karakol, by Lake Issikyl, attracting a lot of tourists.)

Josh in action

At home in the mountains

Here's a short video of Misha and me on our first day. Watch near the end for little Misha in his red-kneed snowpants and me in the blue coat/black pants!

The following Saturday, this past weekend, we had the perfect chance to go again. Sebby's day care was open, making up for days it was closed during the vacation, so we didn't even need a babysitter like last time. Thick, wet snow was falling in Bishkek, but by the time we got to the mountains, it had turned into dry, fine snow. The roads weren't the best, and we had to wait at a few points where smaller cars had gotten stuck in the snow and had to be pushed out, but the snow was nice and fluffy on the ski paths. It was so fluffy that at first Misha and I couldn't figure out how to move, much less pick up any speed, on our skis. Eventually, we learned how to shift our weight to get the skis to glide, and we cruised our way down the mountain many times. Each time we did, the weather became foggier and foggier, first allowing me to see three chairlifts in front of me, then only two, then only one ... In the end, we were skiing down almost completely blind. It was impossible to tell sky from ground, let alone where any path was. I was afraid to get behind or go ahead for fear of losing Josh and Misha, and one time I skied right into the ditch, thinking I was on the right path!

During a short break, a group of Kyrgyz picnickers called out a greeting to us. When we responded in Kyrgyz, they instantly invited us to come and eat shashlik with them. ("Kelingiz! Chai ichesiz! Shashlik jesiz!" - Come, drink tea, eat shashlik!) How could we refuse? We had been smelling the wonderfully wafting aroma all day. They were so flattered that we had learned their local language that they offered us shashlik with onion and vinegar, hot tea, juice, and even vodka, which they insisted on making several toasts with. It's an amazingly good feeling now that we are good enough to understand enough Kyrgyz to have a decent conversation. 

As if intentionally trying to end the day on a good note, the sun popped out and burned off the mist just in time for one last run down the hill. We grabbed our skis and ran up to the lift, where the guards eventually gave in and let us and a few other stragglers board the lift, even though it was a few minutes after 4:00. We rode up, appreciating the full, clear view of the breathtaking mountains. After a fun, speedy run, we were ready to take off our skis and drive home to Sebby.

We forgot the camera in the car all day, but here are some mental photos for you:

* The chairlifts receding eerily in the fog.

* Josh and Misha appearing out of the mist on their skis.

* The group of cheerful Kyrgyz friends (former classmates) and their wives, smiling and laughing and filling up our tea cups.

* Each individual strand of my bangs outlined in fuzzy white frost, making me look like some kind of albino Raggedy Anne.