Orienteering
Saturday morning saw something a little strange … I got out of the office for the morning! It doesn’t happen that often! When I eventually returned, Lisa took one look at me and said, “You’ve been in the sun, you’re sunburnt.”
During the week I had received a visit from Ilshat, a teacher in one of the local schools and Vice President of the Tourist Sport Union of the Kyrgyz Republic.
Now, I tend to get confused by the way they classify things here – I think it was a Soviet habit … everything has to be named and classified so that everyone knows how it fits into the grand scheme of things. The grand Soviet scheme of things that is. I always get confused by this idea of tourism as a “sport”, but it seems to cover all sorts of activities – orienteering seems to me to be the closest to a sport. The Union basically organizes a variety of events and activities, on a voluntary basis, with young people. I suppose that it is a bit like “Outward Bound” in the UK. They’ve approached us several time in the past for support in one or other of their activities.
Anyway, Ilshat said that he was just passing by, but wanted to invite me to an event they were organizing on Saturday morning – an Orienteering competition. I thanked him for the invitation, and said that if I was free at the time, then I would go. As it happened, I was free that morning, so I did go.
I almost didn’t make it, however. Like most people here, I tend to lose track of the time and usually find that I haven’t left myself enough time to get from one place to another … so I often turn up late. That happened on this particular morning. I got to work, as usual, at about 6:00 am, got stuck into the emails, and the next thing I know is that it is already getting on for 9:30. “Oh dear, it looks as if I am going to be late”, I think to myself as I throw on a jacket and run out of the office.
But, that wasn’t all …because it’s Saturday, I don’t have a driver and so have to find a taxi to take me to Karagachovaya Park, (Elm Grove), the place where the competition was to be held. As it happened, either the taxi driver was not a native of Bishkek, or else he couldn’t understand my pronunciation … “Where?”, he asked. As it happens, I have been there before so I thought I knew where it was and so I said, “Don’t worry, I ‘ll show you.” Oh, the arrogance! I got my just desserts. As we drove along the road, North, away from the city center, I kept looking for the turn-off and obviously missed it as we found ourselves in the suburbs. I asked him to turn around, and we eventually found it … and I thought to myself, “I am going to be very, very late.”
I needn’t have worried, however. True to local custom and practice, they had experienced some “technical difficulties” and were just gathering. In fact, as I practically ran down the driveway, I passed a group of four lads, nonchalantly strolling in the same direction, and it turned out that they were on their way to the same event. They seemed to know that it would start half an hour late and there was no need to hurry. The fact that I hadn’t realized this is probably a sign that I haven’t totally “gone native”.
The ceremony began with the participants, about 150 of them, standing in ranks around a small square, in the center of which was a flagpole. After a few words of welcome from Ilshat, the youngest of them were called to the flagpole and raised the flag. This was followed by a rendition of the first verse of the national anthem, a rather ragged rendition with different parts of the assembled group singing at different speeds. Then came the moment for speeches from other members of the organizing committee, and guests, which tended to have two main themes, one marking the fact that the next day was the Victory Day holiday, marking the end of the Second World War, with the expressed desire that none of them would ever experience such a conflict in their lifetimes; the second was to wish them success in the competition.
This was followed by an explanation of the rules, although for many it wasn’t the first competition they had entered so they should have known the routine. There were actually 10 different competitions, depending upon age and gender. Each competitor was given a map of the park with the basic route for their particular age and sex. They had to find a set number of “control posts” – a different number for each group – which were marked by flags with red and white triangles on them. By each flag was a coloured pencil and they had to write the number of the flag in a special box on the map using the pencil.
Finally everyone gathered by the starting line. There was a grid marked out with ropes. One member from each team stood behind the first rope, then another group with a member from each team stood behind the second rope, and so on. The first group were sent on their way, each sprinting off in the general direction of the first of their particular control posts. Each group behind them then advanced into the next cell and waited for a two minute gap before the next group was similarly dispatched, and so on until all the competitors had gone. It took about 50 minutes to get everyone started because the largest group had about 25 competitors. The adult group, on the other hand, had only a handful.
As well as the map, each participant went away with a two or three word clue as to where to look for each control post … something like “where two streams meet”.
After seeing off the first five or six groups, I set off to walk round the park, exploring and seeing if I could find some of the flags. They actually asked if I wanted to join in, by I pleaded my age … and muttered something about a “gammy leg” … a poor excuse. I wandered along the asphalt driveway for a while, and then turned along a path through some trees, Elms after which the park got its name. Seeing some competitors in the distance, to-ing and fro-ing, searching for this or that flag, I headed towards them. I had to jump the streams in several places and only once managed to get my foot wet, as I slid down the bank having not quite made it.
I think the park is a bit small for an orienteering exercise, although Ilshat did call it a “training competition” and he told me that they do other competitions in the mountains from time to time. There are a number of asphalt driveways and the odd scattered here and there – a couple of lakes, in which children go swimming during the summer time. The main attraction, however, are the trees, mostly from which the park gets its name. In many places the grasses and bushes grow tall, but there are a few small open spaces which are quite popular for picnics. In some ways it reminded me of places back home: Malvern Common, although there were more trees here; Epping Forest, including the detritus of thrown away plastic bottles that I sometimes came across, and Hampstead Heath, although with a lot fewer people.
I thought to myself that it should be easy to find the flags, with their bright red and white triangles, the map and the clue. I soon found out that it was not that easy. The park staff who had laid them out had been pretty ingenious. One or two were easy to see. One, for example, was placed at the foot of a tree, another at the side of one of the small pathways. Others, on the other hand, were well and truly hidden, and you virtually had to get to within two or three meters to find them – the one where the two streams meet, for example, was stuck in the stream bed, below the level of the stream banks, so you couldn’t see it from afar, only when you actually found the confluence.
In the distance, the Public Address system blared away with a variety of war time songs … I hate to think how many times I heard the refrain of “Dehn Pobeda”, but then someone must have gotten to the controls because there was a short burst of Rock music.
Finally, I made my way back to the main fountain, where the start and finish lines were located. There I watched as competitors drifted in one by one, had the time they arrived noted on their maps which were handed to the panel of judges for checking, prior to announcing the winners in each category.
There were about 150 competitors. One of the bystanders commented that a few years ago there would have been far more. Ilshat explained to me that several teams that had been invited this time couldn’t come because it is exam time, or perhaps “as a result of recent events”. Certainly the team from Kazakhstan hadn’t been able to cross the border. Indeed, not all of the people who had promised to act as judges turned up. (Every control post was supposed to have a judge but, because they were short of judges, they were having to rely on the honesty of the competitors and checking the colours of the pencils).
The actual event was supposed to take about an hour and a half … although, what with the late start, exhausted stragglers walking to the finish line rather than running, and so on, it dragged on a bit longer. The sun was shining, however, and it was quite a pleasant day. Although teams from variously schools and clubs are invited to participate, anyone can join in … and I thought to myself that if I had known, then I could have brought the baseball kids, I am sure they would have enjoyed it.
Well there’s always the next competition, in the autumn.
Bishkek