Attempt at Reflections on Tuva
At this point I hoped that I would be able to put some thoughts down about what happened to me a few weeks ago. I guess I’ll start with a list of things that happened:
-Saw some fields on fire while taking the train to Abakan
-Took a gorgeous taxi ride through the mountains with ever changing scenery that reminded us Americans of 5-6 different states
-Met a lot of really nice Tuvan people
-Took a long bus ride out into the mountains that involved pushing it up hills and feeling like we were going to fall over. The driver was amazing, it was like a safari ride, and I will never make fun of those short little Russian buses anymore.
-Met some shepherds who were very stoic.
-Watched a goat die via hand through slit in chest and separating aorta from heart
-Ate lots of various goat parts
-Listened to quite a bit of Throat singing
-Played music with throat singers in the back of the bus on the way home
-Saw Tuvan wrestling
-Saw basically every bank in Tuva
-Rode a horse across the Steppe
-Played a song for an English club
-Went to a Tuvan club that really was the closest thing in Russia to clubs I like at home (no frills)
-Got really sick for 30 hours (flu)
-Attempted to make burritos for everyone
I feel like the week I spent there was just long enough for the idea of Tuva as a beautiful place to be solidified in my mind without having to deal with the troubles of every day life. They say drunken Tuvan men can be dangerous. They say there’s crime and racism but I didn’t see it.
Since I’ve been back in Tomsk I’ve tried to process these experiences but it’s difficult. The world felt a little but more connected there, or something like that. People seemed a little more real than many of the Russians I meet. Maybe it was the richness of culture that I sensed. Russia still seems to be figuring its identity out, Tuva seems to have a very ancient one. I want to go back.
