Clunk & Tinkle, Herd of Hell: Etseri, Svaneti

As I promised in my last article, I would have more to write about the subject of herding one’s cows up and down mountains, a daily summer occurrence in Svaneti. This new writing is mostly happening because our carefully arranged deal with the paid herder fell through after exactly one evening of his work, defaulting back to my neighbor and myself. I’m doing said herding until I leave for a month in Canada, and he’s doing it in my absence. Not ideal, but what can one do?

At least the neighbor gave me a couple of training runs, going up the mountain with me and marking a few tree trunks with his axe to help me remember the way. And so far I’ve only had one run which included a bit of rain; other than that it’s been dry, which makes a big difference to the mood of the thing. But it hasn’t been all smooth, oh no. Not by any means.

My first few solo runs I was about an hour early on a sunny day, and the cows simply weren’t ready to be told to come down. I had wanted them home in good time for the sake of those (including myself) who milk them, so we wouldn’t have to do this in encroaching darkness. Too bad! The group of about 25 split into two, then one of these bifurcated further, leaving me a tough choice which set to follow and try to force down. I made my choice and persuaded my group at least to within sight of the village... left them there, and went back up for the other group. All this with a lot of shouting and sweating and some backsides feeling the wrath of my walking stick, as is done here.

When I finally emerged into my neighbor’s yard, I was stressed to the max., not to mention furious at my charges’ charges. They were playing with me! I complained. Yes, he said, but you were a bit early, they weren’t done stuffing their four stomachs, and next time you must stick with the cow who has the bell on her, and the rest will, sooner or later, join her. (One group had led me a merry chase through low-hanging forest branches, bent double, while thick mud from stream overflows simultaneously did its sucking best to pull the boots right off my feet as I struggled to keep up and not start shouting obscenities at the top of my lungs. Did I need this?) And... the cows weren’t even his!

Okay, stay with the Belled One. The neighbor gave my own cow a bell too, an antique one which goes “clunk;” his is from a car part, and has a melodious ring to it. Whatever, at least both sounds are different from each other and from any other bell. Now I can hear them long before I see them, and can follow them when they disappear too!

Also, half of the disappearing is simply a momentary caprice by one or another animal, taking a parallel path into the forest for a few meters instead of staying on the well-trodden path. A few seconds or minutes later, they’re back with the herd. Relax, it’s all just a head game, don’t let them get to you!

Of our little personal “herd” of three, one is a bullock of a year and a half, not castrated and thus heading into rebellious teenagerhood. He sometimes doesn’t even come down, preferring to overnight with the steers (castrated bulls), who don’t need to come down at all unless they’re needed for pulling work. I’ve also learned not to worry about this; I have enough things to focus on, and he shows up sooner or later.

I also added a free altimeter to my smartphone, and thus I can report that our house is at 1550 m above sea level, while the top of the cows’ feeding range is at 2000 m. Next I’ll try adding an app which shows my actual walks taken and their times and distances, to give me a better idea of these things. Each way currently takes me about 70 minutes, going at a sweat-inducing clip.

So my ideal run up and back down the mountain, still a definite theoretical possibility, looks like this: Neither overcast (chance of rain) nor cloudless (too hot), just a bit of cloud to cool things off and make better landscape photos. The ground as dry as it can be; there are places where mud is permanent, from streams, but that’s okay, I’m in rubber boots. I find all 12 or 13 cattle together, late enough that they’re ready to come down without a struggle or truancy but not so late that we descend into darkness. We don’t meet wolves or bears—I’ve never seen either, but their skins are on display in a few local homes. I’m getting close to this perfect run, and warming up to my role as well, leveling the steep learning curve into something that doesn’t send my blood pressure soaring through the Apoplectic Ceiling. Cows, I’ve got your number. Just remember who eats whom, alright?

If you’d like to see some more recent photos from my morning (edge of the village) or evening (up the mountain) herding runs, head over to www.facebook.com/hanmer.house.svaneti and there they are.

Tony Hanmer runs the “Svaneti Renaissance” Facebook group, now with over 1000 members, at

www.facebook.com/groups/SvanetiRenaissance/ .

He and his wife also run their own guest house in Etseri:

www.facebook.com/hanmer.house.svaneti

Tony Hanmer