Path of Bekka-Ata.

Finding ourselves with a few days before the train would leave Aktau, Kazakhstan to go to Uzbekistan (tomorrow 7/24) we explored an old Sufi Moslem hermit cave with special powers in the Kazakh desert. 

Kazakh Muslim pilgrims flock to this sight named Bekka-Atta after the mystic and his followers settled literally in the middle of nowhere on the Asian Steppe in the 1700s. 

The Kazakhs were super friendly and curious that we were from America. We were in more of their photos than we took of them. 

At the holy cave a young Inman named Timur brought us in. He spoke a little English and more Russian, which I could understand a little. 

It was no small feat to get to the cave as we had to descend 2 km of stairs (and of course ascend later, which was much more difficult in temperatures approaching 110F). We passed "Marco Polo Sheep" (see pic below) which were essentially mountain goats or Kamzik in Slovak. 

Timur chanted with us and Dad and I had to go under a sacred tree limb in the cave three times. Dad almost broke the limb in half trying to bend enough to get under it much to the horror of the pilgrims. No one is supposed to touch it. Dad used it to keep from falling over. 

You have to back out of the cave entrance so that you are always facing towards the cave and Bekka-Atta's burial chamber to show respect which is tricky because the cave entrance is only 3 feet high. Timur was impressed that we both were able to navigate getting out without destroying the shrine. 

Just to put it in context - Timur was probably 20 if not younger, with "Gucci" across his t-shirt, and a cell phone ringtone that had a hip-hop song I didn't recognize. It went off when we're were putting our shoes back on. He made sure that we purified our eyes in sulphur water with the other pilgrims.