Christoph Rehage's video: BLACK HANDS ON ISSYK-KUL Timelapse

When I arrived in Karakol, I got a bunk in an eight-bed room. I was by myself, the only two other guests in the hostel were from Switzerland and Uzbekistan. Over the next few days, I made noodles that tasted like crap, I made vareniki that tasted a bit better, and finally I made pelmeni that tasted okay. I drank huge amounts of kvass. When I went out, I found out that Karakol felt a bit like Kansas: wide avenues, single-storeyed houses with fences in front of them, crumbling plaster here and there and some vacant stores, but also a few well-kept houses with flowers in their front yards. One time I saw two kids eyeing me from behind a tree when I was walking by. I figured it was a game where we would tail each other, so I also hid behind a tree and spied on them. They were very confused. Another time I got lost in the mountains. I was resting on a pasture, looking at the sunset and at the clouds hovering over the mountains, when darkness covered the land. I walked back on twisting paths, and when I passed a road, I asked a driver for directions. He told me to avoid a certain area, because there were supposed to be bad people there. So I turned around. There was another path, and it was absolutely dark. I was wearing my flashlight on my head, and suddenly two shiny dots appeared in front of me. Where they green or blue? Or yellow? They were moving, and after a while they turned out to be the eyes of a horse. The rider showed me the way to a factory where I found a lady called Marina. She was working the nightshift burning bricks. There were holes in the ground, there was glowing coal to be put into the holes, and there was a shovel. It felt like 100 years ago. "Do you know how old our factory is?" she asked me. It was eighty years old, from the Soviet era. Marina was chubby and cheerful, she looked a bit older than thirty-eight, and her daughter was fourteen and had just started studying German. She showed me a nice new brick. "This is what houses are built with," she said. I stood there, looking at the brick in her hands that were dark from handling the coal, and I suddenly remembered what the name "Karakol" was supposed to mean in Kyrgyz: black hand. This footage was taken in October 2014 in and around Karakol, the biggest town on the shores of Issyk-Kul in Kyrgyzstan. (GPS: 42°29'1.02"N 78°24'6.25"E) Drop by on my site: ▶ http://www.crehage.com or add me on FB: ▶ https://facebook.com/crehage on TW: ▶ https://twitter.com/crehage INFO: ▶Shot with DSLR 15mm + 55mm ▶Soundtrack: Constant Music - "Monday Motivation" (medium version) If you have any ADDITIONAL QUESTIONS, please refer to: ▶▶▶ http://crehage.com/faq CONNECT WITH ME: ▶OFFICIAL SITE: http://crehage.com ▶FACEBOOK: https://facebook.com/crehage ▶TWITTER: https://twitter.com/crehage ▶WEIBO: https://weibo.com/leikexiaoliumang ▶▶▶SUBSCRIBE to my channel: http://bit.ly/1BcQ6Ol REISEERZÄHLUNG "THE LONGEST WAY" (PIPER/MALIK) ERHÄLTLICH: ▶Amazon: http://amzn.to/177iCpG ▶Hugendubel: http://bit.ly/1rJj5rc ▶Thalia: http://bit.ly/14hoJXr BILDBAND "CHINA ZU FUSS" (NATIONAL GEOGRAPHIC) ERHÄLTLICH: ▶Amazon: http://amzn.to/1xAd7ve ▶Hugendubel: http://bit.ly/1zZqcP4 ▶Thalia: http://bit.ly/1BqvYWR