Kyrgyz update, if you care...

Kyrgyzstan was originally comprised of 40 different tribes, and even today, when they meet someone for the first time, they ask each other, “What tribe are you?” Anyway, upon arrival in Karakoal we were ushered into our abode for the next week—a squat hut with adjoining rooms heated by coal fire. The rooms smelled strongly of animal and the coal smoke was sickening. Eventually we got used to it though, which led me to wonder if I actually now smell like coal smoke and animal fur and just don't notice. Probably. The patroness is a kindly yet overbearing Russian lady who's not above pushing you down in front of the fire while she commandeers your bag and unpacks it for you. And you sit there with a nervous smile on your face, because interrupting was just not an option.

The Himalayas in sepia.

I discovered last night that she has been cooking all our meals in sheep’s lard, so even though she's been giving me "vegetarian" dishes, the food's all steeped in animal fat. Ugh. However, I did learn something pleasant. Upon finishing each meal, Azamit, our guide, performs a quick ritual—he scoops his hands out over the table and then brings them in to touch his face, then into prayer  position in front of his face, before sweeping them down and away. You see, the Kyrgyz believe there is lots of happiness and good fortune on the dinner table, and so to close each meal, you scoop it in. You wash your face in the happiness. It’s nice, right?

Scrappy here lives at the ski hill and is only interested in you if you have food directly on your person.

A Russian Orthodox church built entirely of wood. We went inside and listened to the choir for a while, lovely stuff.

The crew scouted, and I just sat around and stared at the view.

These little dudes were excited about getting their photo taken. "Thank you!" they kept yelling.

A quiet walk.