Altay Gold Rush, My Past in the Mountains

This is a story about gold and blood. In 1996, I was 19 years old, carrying half a bag of wheat for travel expenses, and headed into the mountains of Altay. The glaciers are biting, the ground is leaking, and the fellow villagers are turning against each other... I spent two seasons of hard work in exchange for a few tile-roofed houses in my home, and I saw clearly: gold is valuable, but life is priceless. This is not a cool article, but the real life of a generation of gold diggers. Click to catch up and let's go back to the passionate and cruel 1990s.