Under an Infinite Sky

A week with the nomads of Kyrgyzstan

by Henry Wismayer

Whenever I think of Kyrgyzstan, I picture a boy that I met on a walk along the lakeshore — a miniature horseman under an infinite sky. He had the hard-bitten stare of a lifelong outdoorsman, and broad cheeks chapped scarlet by the cold.

A leather whip flickered in his right hand; in his left was a rope, which was tethered to the puppy that scampered alongside him. He was just two feet tall and as many years old, but the horse he sat astride was completely under his command.

For a land of nomads, which once resounded with the hooves of traders’ caravans plying the old Silk Road, Kyrgyzstan has been remarkably overlooked by the modern traveler.

There are reasons, of course: landlocked between Kazakhstan and China, squashed between the Pamir and Tien Shan mountain ranges, and for seven decades an insignificant wedge in the Soviet mosaic, it’s a place most people might struggle to spell let alone find on a map.

Mountains, mountains everywhere. Physical map of Kyrgyzstan: Song Kol Lake can be seen in the center, above the label for the ‘NARYN’ oblast.

But there is cause to take notice of this enigmatic Central Asian state. Ever since a tumultuous, president-toppling revolution in…