Arashan Bobo

The Angren Plateau, spanning 1,200 square kilometers, is a vast mountainous region of the Western Tien Shan, towering directly above the Fergana Valley. Even in the middle of summer, nighttime temperatures here often drop below freezing. Higher still, on the southern slopes of the Chatkal Range, lies a fantastical necklace of crystal-clear Arashan lakes, which only fully thaw by mid-June. The peak of Karakush rises to 3,864 meters above sea level—555 meters higher than Greater Chimgan. When Tashkent swelters in 45-degree heat, cold storms with hail rage at the foot of the peak, and spring flowers only begin to bloom at the edge of the melting glaciers.

When the brief high-altitude summer arrives, pilgrims ascend to the lakes, drawn by the belief in the healing power of the warm radon spring that gushes here. The water temperature remains constant year-round at +36.7 degrees Celsius. Geologists assert that the origin of these geothermal waters is unrelated to volcanic activity. The Tien Shan mountains were formed not by volcanoes but by tectonic processes. However, the water from melting glaciers somehow seeps through cracks in the rock almost to the Earth’s crust and rises again, bringing heat from the fiery depths to the surface. It’s no wonder that locals consider the warm spring in this land of eternal cold a true miracle. Yet, the Arashan spring is perhaps the only sacred site in Uzbekistan that has not preserved a clear cult or the “officially required” beautiful legend.

For most pilgrims, the attitude toward the hot spring is purely pragmatic. The spring, which yields about 10 liters per hour, was enclosed in the last century within a small, roughly cemented square pool, two meters wide. One can wade in up to the waist or even submerge completely by lying back on the slippery green silt at the bottom. Bathers are usually warned not to stay in the radon bath for more than 40 minutes. However, this warning is often unnecessary: there’s usually a queue of eager bathers, and the weather changes so quickly that lingering in the spring or re-entering it multiple times is rarely an option. That said, some pilgrims stay at Arashan for several days, arriving with their entire families.

The pool is separated from the valley by a rusty tin partition, which also divides it into two halves—one for men and one for women. However, there are times or days when only men or only women bathe in the spring. Pilgrims believe that, in addition to curing skin diseases and joint pain, the spring’s water can also heal female infertility. Medical science does not confirm this, but when have pilgrims ever trusted science?

Above the hot spring, on a hill, stand three primitive stone tombstones. One of them is adorned with the large horns of an argali, a mountain goat. The horns have dried out with age and are tied with cloth ribbons to prevent them from falling apart. Further up the slope, barely visible traces remain of a stone fortress, possibly once guarding a caravan route leading from the Angren Plateau to the Fergana Valley. Serious archaeological research has yet to be conducted here, primarily due to the harsh climate and the area’s inaccessibility. According to the sparse and fragmentary information available to local historians and researchers, this sanctuary is called Arashan Bobo.

On the other side of the pass, in the Pap District of Namangan Region, lies the village of Chadak. Here, picturesque fruit orchards grow, and mineral springs gush from the cliffs. Legends say that these places were visited by famous Sufi teachers of the 12th to 14th centuries—Yusuf Hamadani, Muhammad Samasi, and Baha-ud-Din Naqshband. However, the name of the ascetic who once dwelled in the cloud-covered heights of Arashan has been lost to memory. Near the Arashan lakes, there is currently no active mosque. No one lives here year-round—only in summer do shepherds set up yurts or canvas tents on the rocky slopes.