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The odyssey of "Genghis Blues" | page 1, 2, 3, 4 As early as
they can remember, their mother was telling them that she hoped they would
one day travel around the world -- a goal both brothers have accomplished,
Adrian two times over. To further instill their wonder for a world beyond
Michael Jordan and the Sears Tower, she removed the family's television's
channel dial, leaving it permanently tuned to the PBS affiliate. While
their schoolmates were watching baseball and sitcoms, the boys were absorbing
hours of African wildlife shows, a series of documentaries about Papua
New Guinea made by a two-brother team and "The Last Journey of a Genius,"
a film which they rank with "Star Wars" as a major influence on their lives.
This obscure
documentary recounts the story of the late Nobel Prize-winning physicist
Richard Feynman and his attempts to travel to Tuva. As with the handful
of other Westerners who knew about Tuva, Feynman had discovered the area
through the unique postage stamps it had issued in the early 20th century.
Enchanted by the stamps and by the resonant name of its capital, Kyzyl,
Feynman became intent on visiting the remote, mountainous land. The Soviets,
however, could not believe that this great mind was interested only in
the scenery, and for 13 years, they repeatedly foiled his plans. The Belics,
however, determined that they would somehow make it to Tuva.
During college,
Adrian circumnavigated the globe twice with the Semester at Sea program
-- heading west one year and east the next. He sailed up the Mekong River,
meeting both northern and southern veterans of the Vietnam War, and had
his first snorkeling experience in the Seychelles, off the coast of Africa.
After years of PBS wildlife programming, Roko was also eager to get to
Africa. In search of an inexpensive, unique way to see the continent, he
and his friend Jeff became last-minute team members of a student group
that traveled from Kenya to Malawi to deliver money and supplies to refugees
of the civil war in Mozambique.
In order to
afford their plane tickets, the two spent the first few weeks of the summer
painting houses in a Chicago suburb, before flying out on Fourth of July
morning. "We went from a tree-lined street with lawn chairs set up for
the holiday parade, to baboons and giraffes crossing the road! It was just
surreal!" exclaims Roko, still sounding 18. "I remember one of the first
mornings of the trip, sitting in the street as the sun came up and hearing
the Muslim call to prayer. It struck me as the most engaging, beautiful
scene of my life. Now, looking back and having been in Africa again, I
know that it was just some dusty street in a small town."
The leader
on that trip, Dan Eldon, was a year older than Roko and Jeff. He had grown
up in Nairobi and traveled extensively, recording his experiences in his
photo journals. Roko recalls the way in which Dan was fearless about new
places and people, completely fueled by curiosity. They learned many tricks
from him -- how to talk to border guards, how to read a potentially risky
situation. Dan and the summer's experience accelerated Roko and Jeff's
travel instincts, serving as a springboard for bigger, riskier adventures.
Two years later,
they took time off from school to travel around the world. This time Roko
planned to film their experience. He and Adrian had long been fascinated
with video and Super-8 film; as kids, they had often talked their teachers
into accepting films instead of research papers. During the African safari,
Roko had been charged with documenting the students' journey, but too agog
with his surroundings, he had left the job to other group members. This
second time, he diligently filmed and edited the lengthy trip. With understated
subtitles describing key moments in the journey, the resulting film is
reminiscent of a Victorian travel monologue -- complete with suspense,
narrow escapes and a cast of unexpected friends and nemeses, a depiction
far more interesting than anything you'll find in glossy travel magazines.
The video begins
in a cramped dorm room in Russia, as Jeff, Roko and some local students
who have befriended them share vodka and try on an army uniform, dancing
and mock-parading around the room. One of the students takes them home
to his family, where they're treated like special guests and, again, entertained
with song and drink in the small, simply furnished apartment. Fleeting
scenes of the Middle East follow, with Roko attempting to ride his first
horse to the pyramids.
In Jordan's
desert, the two friends hike into the abyss, romanced by the sound of the
name -- Wadi Rum -- and a paved road that abruptly ends, eaten by sand.
After two nights spent sleeping on a rocky overhang in order to avoid packs
of marauding wild dogs, they trudge back out, filming each other as they
go, both looking weak with hunger and cold. By the time the pair make it
to Dan's house in Nairobi, they are so grimy you can practically smell
them through the VCR. They record a silly afternoon with their friend,
clowning through the urban streets. A year later, Dan died in Somalia while
covering the war there.
Soon after
this point in the trip, they were mugged and their camera was stolen. They
took divergent paths through Asia, with Roko still hoping to make it to
Tuva. His final leg was a nightmarish train ride through rural China, headed
toward a back entrance to Tibet. The farther west he went, the more violent
and Kafka-esque the journey became. This progression culminated in the
middle of the night when he and other passengers were herded through the
streets of a deserted town by soldiers in riot gear. As the only Westerner
in the lot, he never understood the soldiers' intent or what the crowd
had done to upset them, though he was enraged by the random beatings of
innocent people he witnessed.
When he finally
made it to Lhasa, Tibet's capital, he learned that Western travelers were
not allowed in the countryside. Not having come this far to let a silly
rule stop him, he donned a traditional sheep herder's coat and a Chinese
hat. With the help of an equine expert Israeli traveler, he bought a horse.
"I'd heard so much about Tibetan hospitality," he says, "that I figured
I'd have no problem finding places to stay."
It was November
and growing increasingly cold, so he was happy when on his second night
a family did befriend him. The tiny granny of the household, all of 4 feet
tall, was more concerned about the horse than she was the disguised Westerner.
With a teasing smile, she turned the saddle around to its correct position,
hoisted herself on the horse and took off at a wild gallop.
But after that,
his luck ran out. He sensed that the Tibetans had been reprimanded for
talking to foreigners and were now shy of them. After two weeks of solo
ramblings, his water bottle frozen solid as he awoke under a bush every
dawn, he decided to go home. It was frustrating to know how close he'd
come to Tuva, yet he was eager to go there with fresh eyes on a future
journey.
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