The Roof on Our Flag

Look closely at the flag of Kyrgyzstan. Inside the golden sun you will find no sword, no lion, no crown. You will find a roof. It is the tunduk, the round wooden crown at the top of a yurt, and what you are looking at is the view from inside: lying on your back at night, watching the stars through the opening where the smoke goes out.

Other countries put their power on their flags. We put our home there.

I come from that country. It is almost entirely mountains, which is where the name Terra Montis comes from: “land of the mountains”. For centuries my people carried their houses with them, following their herds up to the jailoo, the high summer pastures, and back down before the snow. In a land like that, nobody gets far alone. So a rule grew up, and it still holds today: whoever comes to your door is fed first. Nobody asks your name until the tea is poured.

Here is what that looks like. You walk up to a yurt at 3,000 meters. A woman you have never met waves you in. A cloth is spread on the floor, the dastorkon, and it fills up: warm boorsok, fresh cream, jam, bowls of tea. Then comes the kymyz, fermented mare's milk, sour and strange, and the whole family watches you take the first sip. You don't share a single word. An hour later, you don't want to leave.

I have spent 17 years in tourism trying to give people that hour.

In those years I have visited every country in Central Asia. Our journeys now reach from the Silk Road cities of Uzbekistan to the Pamir Highway in Tajikistan and the burning gas crater in the desert of Turkmenistan. Still, the best moments are never on the itinerary. They happen because a driver knows whose yurt to stop at, and because a guide is trusted enough to knock.

Those drivers, guides and families are the real Terra Montis. More than 2,000 guests from around the world have already sat down with them on the felt carpets.

I live in Switzerland now, but nobody from Kyrgyzstan really leaves. We carry the tunduk with us.

You plan your journey with me. Over there, my people are waiting for you, and there is still room on the carpet.

Come hungry.