Yet, it was only for recreation that Tusipbek started taking photos when he was a university student. Up to now, more than 5,000 of his photos have been published, six of them winning an international prize and 40, a national prize. In May 2007, Tusipbek was invited to the Great Hall of the People in Beijing during an exhibition on Xinjiang in the national capital and the presentation of an album on Kanas – a wonderful natural region in the north of Xinjiang – to which he had generously contributed.
Also, in 1993, he wrote in the Kazak language a handbook of tricks and tips for photo enthusiasts, and another modest work in 2003 on hard-to-access places that he had visited. When Tusipbek leaves for a photo expedition, he leaves for 10, 30, or 60 days. With one or two companions, and with as little luggage as possible, a horse drawing a sled, and a dog, this explorer moves forward with difficulty through the thick layer of soft snow, with his equipment on his back, climbs slopes that the horse can't traverse, and changes the films with his bare hands at temperatures of -30 or -40 ºC, because wearing gloves restricts freedom of movement. Where he goes, there is neither a hotel nor an inn. Sometimes he walks the whole night long with only melted snow to drink. Sometimes the explorer stops behind the sled, illuminated by the moon, and eats a piece of nang (bread) with sarmai (butter). Sometimes he finds an opportunity in a village where he can enjoy a herdsman's hospitality. In that case, he can let the horse rest for one or two days and buy hay for the rest of the voyage.
A mountain lover, Tusipbek spent three years exploring the Altay Mountains in the north, two years in the mountain ranges of Kunlun in the south, and seven years in the Tianshan Mountains in the centre of Xinjiang – all to dislodge their secrets and to embed them on film.
He considers himself first as the explorer of the Tianshan Mountains, and it is he himself who suggested to me the title of this chapter. Tianshan means "Celestial Mountains," in fact. It was easy to feel his burning passion for the high mountains and his deep love for the incomparable ranges of Tianshan in particular.
When we see the photographs taken by Tusipbek, we can understand that with so much beauty around him in his own region, the photographer doesn't feel the need to go elsewhere. However, he was invited for one week in Kazakhstan in 2003 for an exhibition, and he also went for trips related to his work to Malaysia, Singapore, and Thailand. He participates in special festivals such as the great cultural event that takes place every four years and that will reunite all the Kazak people and their horses in Qoqek (Tacheng) on August 8. As I would not be able to attend the great rallying, Tusipbek handed over a copy of his book on the Kazak people, "Here, this is for you."
What makes Tusipbek, as he stated it himself, a particular man and especially a favoured photographer, is that he was born in the countryside and he spent his childhood in the mountains. He has mastered four languages (Kazak, Chinese, Uyghur, and Mongolian) and has no problems with communication. Finally, he grew up "on horseback" as is characteristic of these people and dismisses transportation problems. "Moreover", he said laughingly, "20 kilometres a day, even with luggage, have never been an obstacle."
In 1994, the photographer was followed for 10 days by CCTV-10 while his camera hunted polar bears and black bears. The bear represents a danger to man when it has a cub, when it is eating, and when it is in the mating season. One must carry a hunting knife and a rifle to be prepared for all such contingencies.
Tusipbek faced all kinds of dangers: in addition to the bears are rain and lightning, which means absolutely halting photography and the crossing of creeks or streams. Once, his horse slipped and was wounded, bleeding from the muzzle. Tusipbek had to continue on foot, with rain-drenched material and equipment. The wolves, which fear man, do not pose a threat. Another challenge is to wait patiently, several hours sometimes, without moving, without eating, for favourable light – the exact light – to start the objective of the camera.
I asked Tusipbek whether he liked anything other than photography. He answered that he liked to dance: folklore and especially modern dance. He was not short of projects and was thinking about producing another important work titled "Marvellous Xinjiang," a book on special places that very few know, with directions on how to go there.
More than an hour passed since Hanipa had disappeared from the room; then, from the kitchen seeped a fragrant aroma of boiled lamb. Suddenly she came out with a joyous "cha'is" (To the tea!). Contrary to my Italian, Canadian, and even Chinese practices, the meal began with a variety of cream pastries, honey or goat butter biscuits, rolls filled with wild grape or raspberry jam – this berry unknown in China except in Xinjiang. The milk tea was not that of the Tibetans or of the Mongols, but red tea (black) with fresh milk, without salt or sugar. After these cocktail snacks came the "real" dishes, meaning rice with carrots and turnips and lamb that one eats with the hands (zhua fan). We ended with kurt (cheese), susbei (drained yogurt, almost dry) which functions to cut through the grease, and the sweetest melon I had ever tasted: the tiangua, which bears its name perfectly.
Hanipa happily explained to me that the butter is made in a leather churn, a flexible quadrangle, and is preserved frozen, wrapped in a thin goatskin.
When I left Tusipbek's and Hanipa's home, my vocabulary had increased with a few Kazak words: A ke, A pa, A pai, respectively Dad, Mom, and Aunt, and my weight had increased, too – by several grams certainly.
(Source: Foreign Languages Press)
