Portable dwellings thrive as tourist attractions and emergency housing
TALGAR, Kazakhstan — The golden hues of autumn envelop the air, carrying a gentle nip, as I embark on a journey across Kazakhstan to Talgar, a picturesque town located around 40 kilometers from Almaty, a former capital close to the southern border with Kyrgyzstan.
With a sense of anticipation, I lean out of the car window, hoping to catch a glimpse of a traditional Kazakh yurt, reminiscent of the ones that sometimes featured in the enchanting Russian fairy tales of my childhood. To my disappointment, none appear against the backdrop of the snow-tipped Tian Shan mountains.
After another hour of travel, though, we draw closer to the Huns ethno-village in the district of Talgar, and in the distance I can make out the distinctive sight of white, igloo-like structures. These rounded dwellings resemble the tops of mushrooms — completely unlike the brutal grandeur of buildings constructed during Soviet rule in Kazakhstan (1920-91) or the opulent remnants of the Russian czars who ruled here in the 19th and early 20th centuries. Instead, they boast a unique allure steeped in simplicity and austerity.
For over 2,000 years yurts have been used by the people of Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Mongolia and other Central Asian pastoral communities as practical, simple and portable dwellings that can be moved with the seasons between the steppes and the mountains.
Referred to as kiyiz ui in the Kazakh language and ger in Mongolian, yurts are assembled using three main components: a wooden frame made from willow trees bound together with ropes and covered with felt cloth. Interiors are divided into sections, following nomadic traditions. For example, the right side of a yurt is for men and the left for women. The top of the domed roof, the shanyrak, is considered a window to the world and to celestial bodies, and is installed in silence when a yurt is built.
Tourists dance with locals at a yurt camp in Kazakhstan. Such sites look to provide a memorable and immersive experience while offering a glimpse into the country’s traditional lifestyles. (Photo by Meenakshi J)
This form of housing is about as environmentally sensitive as possible. When a nomadic family decides to move, its belongings are packed, ropes are unknotted, the felt is folded and the ground is left as it was before the dwelling was erected. The process is akin to a crime scene being wiped clean to ensure that no traces are left behind.
During the Soviet era, the process of collectivization led to a steep decline in the number of people living nomadic lives. But yurts remain in widespread use as temporary spaces for short sojourns, “glamping” (glamorous camping) and in ecotourism initiatives.
“Overall, the decline in the usage of yurts as homes and the nomadic lifestyle in Kazakhstan can be attributed to a combination of social, economic, cultural and governmental factors that have shaped the country’s development and modernization,” said Alexandra Tosun, co-founder of Indy Guide, which helps travelers explore remote destinations in Central Asia and along the Silk Route.
The top of a Kazakh yurt’s domed roof is considered a window to the world and to celestial bodies. It is installed in silence when the dwelling is erected. (Photo by Meenakshi J)
Yurt camps in Central Asia have evolved to cater to international tourists seeking a unique place to sleep, offering a glimpse into traditional Kazakh lifestyle and providing a memorable and immersive experience while also being a sustainable option for accommodation. Many of the camps, including the Huns ethno-village, offer visitors an opportunity to witness tribal expertise in ancient practices such as falconry and horse riding, some of which have been passed down over 4,000 years. They can also enjoy the captivating melodies of the dombyra, a traditional two-stringed musical instrument used by Kazakhs and other Central Asian peoples.
“By staying in a yurt camp, tourists and travelers also directly contribute to the local economy and support the livelihoods of community members,” said Tosun. This helps to empower the local populace, preserve traditional knowledge and craftsmanship, and maintain a sustainable income source, as these camps are often owned and operated by local communities or families.
Yurt camps are run with minimal infrastructure requirements, and are designed to blend harmoniously with nature, reducing the demand for resources such as water, energy and land. Compared to larger-scale developments, yurt camps leave a minimal ecological footprint because of their temporary nature and sustainable materials.
Kazakh women captivate guests with folk songs and melodies played on the two-stringed dombyra. (Photo by Meenakshi J)
Central Asian communities have historically relied on a diet that is adapted to their nomadic lifestyle, cultural practices and seasonal availability of resources. So the cuisine offered at yurt camps often reflects nomadic traditions — including the use of fermented food, which has been eaten for centuries in the region. Examples include fermented dairy products, pickled vegetables and fermented mare’s milk, known as kumis in Kazakhstan, which is said to improve digestion as well as preserving the milk.
However, yurt camps are increasingly catering to the dietary preferences of guests, including vegetarian and vegan groups, with menus ranging from plant-based options such as locally sourced fruit, vegetables and grains to traditional Kazakh dishes that can be adapted to vegetarian or vegan requirements. Guests can sometimes enjoy borscht (beet soup) without meat, and tofu or mushrooms can be used instead of animal flesh in dishes like shashlik (grilled skewers) or manty (dumplings).
Some camps prioritize sustainable operations, but others offer Wi-Fi, charging points for electronic devices and modern bathroom facilities. Electronic devices are sometimes powered by solar energy systems to minimize their environmental impact. Embracing technology has helped yurt camps in Kazakhstan reach a wider audience, enhancing the guest experience and highlighting their unique offerings.
“We have witnessed an increase in bookings for yurt experiences, indicating the growing interest in nomadic hospitality,” said Tosun. “They offer a sense of seclusion, open spaces and immersion in nature, which can be appealing to travelers seeking a safe and socially distanced environment.” With their emphasis on cultural immersion, minimal environmental impact and support for local communities, yurt camps are in line with evolving travel preferences in the wake of pandemic restrictions and a growing desire for outdoor experiences.
Yurts form the heart of the Huns ethno-village. Locations like this operate with minimal infrastructure requirements and are designed to blend in with nature. (Photo by Meenakshi J)
The traditional knowledge and skill of making Kazakh yurts has also been recognized by UNESCO as part of the intangible cultural heritage of humanity. There are currently no yurt-making workshops in Kazakhstan, but visitors can observe the traditional yurt-making process in Chimbay in neighboring Uzbekistan’s autonomous region of Karakalpakstan. Sophie Ibbotson, chairman of the U.K.’s Royal Society for Asian Affairs and a tourism consultant, said Uzbekistan is a well-established destination for tourists looking to experience yurt culture, with nine established yurt camps reinforced by a further three opened in the last 18 months.
While both the traditional nomadic lifestyle and the use of yurts as permanent residences have diminished on the steppes, some communities in remote areas of Central Asia still follow a seminomadic lifestyle. These communities move seasonally with their livestock in search of suitable grazing lands, maintaining a strong connection to their nomadic heritage while also adapting to evolving circumstances.
In some places, even these communities are seeking ways to combine their traditional lifestyles with the interests of the contemporary world. On Mongolia’s vast grasslands, for example, enterprising nomadic herders have started using Airbnb to reach out to a world beyond their pastures, promoting their humble yurts as vacation destinations to a growing number of intrepid tourists.
Volunteers in Kazakhstan’s Almaty region prepare to send a yurt as part of a batch of aid for residents in Ukraine. © Reuters
Another modern use for yurts was demonstrated recently when Kazakhstan and other Central Asian countries rushed hundreds of the dwellings to Turkey for use as emergency accommodations after the devastating earthquake on Feb. 6. Activists in Kazakhstan have also sent yurts to Ukraine to help the war-torn nation deal with damage and displacement caused by the Russian invasion in 2022.
These contemporary developments mark a fresh approach to yurts in the modern culture of the steppes, but they also reflect the more widespread uses to which yurts have been put in the past, according to research led by Kazakh architects Aida Issakhankyzy and Altynay Imanbekova, whose Re:yurt project emerged from their interest in Kazakh architecture.
“While exploring archival materials, we discovered historical evidence of how yurts were utilized as spaces for various activities, including educational classes and workshops during the 19th century,” said Issakhankyzy. “Personally, I am particularly intrigued by the idea of designing mobile workspaces, either individual or collective, inspired by these historical examples.”
Source: Asia Nikkei
