Introduction

It is there where the mountains are so high that there’s no wind in the valley. Where the stars are so bright, because there are no roads. Where once Aitmatow wrote in his beautiful, powerful language. There, where the people look Asian, Siberian, Russian and all so different.

Five mountain ranges to the Chinese border; twelve to Kazakhstan. It is a pristine land. The snow covered peaks, riverbeds winding through green valleys, grazing herds of sheep with their herdsmen carefully watching, nomads spending their summer in their yurts.

It is there, where the people’s lives are just as rich as hard. It is there, where we are heading to.