The Mysteries and Labyrinths of Altai

About ten years ago, a group of Russian practitioners of extrasensory perception arrived in Altai with television cameras in tow. They were on a mission to debunk legends and planned to visit sites where mysterious forces were purportedly in play, strip these famous places of their aura of mystery, and refute myths about this part of the world’s “special energy.”

Oleg Kardakov, director of KARO, a company that has been organizing tours of Altai for almost 20 years, was asked to escort the group.

As Kardakov tells it, “I brought the psychics to Shamans’ Rock. To this day, this huge black rock is sacred for Altaians. An ancient sanctuary sits on its peak, so people aren’t allowed to climb there. Altai shamans gathered at the foot of the rock to perform kamlanie together. In Turkic languages, a kam is a shaman, and kamlanie is interaction with the spirit world, the shaman’s central task.”

Shamans’ Rock is famous not only for the ancient tales and legends that surround it: the traditional laws of physics don’t seem to apply there. For example, if you stand 50 meters from the rock, you can hear the whisper of someone standing right next to it. However, whispering your response won’t work: you’ll have to yell. Clap your hands, and you’ll hear the echo only after a long delay, as if the rock is at least a kilometer away. For some inexplicable reason, mobile phones and other electronic devices don’t work near the rock.

As for the psychics, Kardakov reports that they refused to go anywhere near Shamans’ Rock: “The psychics looked at it from a distance and said that they wouldn’t go any farther – the energy was too frightening and unfamiliar. In general, they felt quite uncomfortable throughout their time in the Altai, both physically and emotionally. They wound up leaving without fulfilling the mission their editors had assigned them – there was no debunking.”

Some call Altai the “Russian Tibet.” Is this just a gimmick dreamed up by tour agencies to attract New Age tourists, or is the Altai truly one of the most mysterious and spiritual places on the planet?

Interest in Altai as a bioenergetic focal point is nothing new. In the summer of 1926, the Russian writer, artist, philosopher, and theosophist Nicholas Roerich studied Altai as part of a Central Asian expedition. The expedition’s goal was to study remote places in Central Asia: Tibet, Altai, and Chinese Turkestan, among others. Roerich nurtured a hope of finding Shambhala – a land mentioned in ancient texts that was a realm of justice, freedom, and immortality. In Altai, this place is referred to as “Belovodye” (White Water).

In his book, Shambhala: The Heart of Asia, Roerich wrote: “The Teaching of Shambhala is a true Teaching of Life. As in Hindu Yogas, this Teaching indicates the use of the finest energies, which fill the macrocosm and which are as powerfully manifested in our microcosm.”

Since Roerich’s expedition, many people have come to study the Altai: academics, archeologists, and the simply curious. Kardakov explains:

People come here with enviable enthusiasm, but it wanes rather quickly, because a thorough study of the Altai would take a lifetime. As soon as one mystery is solved, a hundred new ones emerge. Archaeological digs are difficult, first and foremost, because the local population doesn’t welcome them, but also because of the great distances and the impenetrable forests and mountains.

There are many spots in the Altai where humans have never set foot, and there are huge unpopulated stretches with no roads or communication. The Altai Republic’s population density is just 2.36 per square kilometer.* There is just one road through the mountains: the Chuy Highway, which means that getting lost in the Altai is incredibly easy: just climb any hill, go another couple of kilometers farther, and you’ll never see another soul again.

Scientists explain Altai’s puzzling phenomena through physics: what some Russians refer to as “места силы” – places of force or power – are simply geoactive zones with unique physical properties. The Altai has dozens of places like this, which has led to the development of “sacral tourism” (also known as noospheric, ecopsychological, or spiritual tourism). People travel to the Altai not simply to enjoy its natural beauty, but to come into contact with the Cosmos and to energize themselves via “bioactive points.”

Such points are not necessarily the legacy of ancient civilizations – some are products of the modern age. One was built in 2011 by St. Petersburg native Vyacheslav Tokarev, a geologist and member of the Russian Geographical Society who holds a doctorate in engineering.

Tokarev’s Park of Stone Labyrinths – sited after study of the area’s geomagnetic field – consists of five spiraling labyrinths, each with a distinct purpose. They tap into a number of different traditions, including prototypes from the Russian North (an ancient labyrinth found on the Solovetsky Islands), Southern Europe (Crete), and India (labyrinths described in the ancient epic, The Mahābhārata).

Upon arrival, visitors encounter a display describing the purported effect of each labyrinth:

The Labyrinth of Goodness, Soul, and Strength: Access to Universal Love, the attainment of harmony, and the resolution of conflicts.

The “Fortress” Labyrinth: Protection from negative energy, a source of strength to solve important life problems and improve practical outcomes.

The “Wheel of the Warrior” Labyrinth: The strengthening and formation of masculine energies promoting health and success.

The “Magna Mater” Labyrinth: The strengthening of energies, feminine qualities, and the maternal principle.

The Labyrinth of Creativity: Here, new knowledge is revealed to people who seek, create, and invent. Promotes the attainment of goals.

Tokarev explains:

The Labyrinth is a model of the Universe. What gave shape to the world around us? Movement. Because of movement, disorderly space began to attain structure and material objects emerged. But our world wasn’t shaped by movement from one point to another, it was shaped by circular movement. Think of the great mathematicians Nikolai Lobachevsky and Georg Riemann, the founders of non-Euclidean geometries. They proved that, on the surface of a sphere, the shortest distance between two points is calculated not based on a straight line, but on the arc of a large circle. Movement always follows a circle. This is why labyrinths help people become attuned to the surrounding world. Walking through them puts people in touch with the universe.

Tokarev first took an interest in labyrinths back in the 1990s, when he noticed how prevalent they were in various cultures – for instance the Ancient Greek myth of the Minotaur, the half-bull, half-man kept in a labyrinth, where young men and women were sacrificed to him. According to the myth, Theseus defeated the monster and emerged from the labyrinth unscathed. Tokarev believes that the versions of this myth that have reached us are somewhat distorted. For him, the labyrinth in the Minotaur myth represents a structure for purification from sin and misfortune.

Labyrinths are often pictured on ancient coins and in petroglyphs carved into cliffs. They can also be found in icons and on the floors of Europe’s medieval churches, where they symbolize humans’ path toward God. Two of the most famous labyrinths are at Chartres in France and at Feodorovsky Cathedral in St. Petersburg, which has an exact replica of the Chartres labyrinth, albeit just one-fourth the size.

Tokarev finds nothing strange in such religious uses of the labyrinth: “The structure of any labyrinth starts with a cross. This is the symbol of the Sun (it can be enclosed in a circle), the most important symbol of divinity, a symbol found in all the main religions.”

Of course, not all labyrinths are designed to help people establish contact with the Universe and discover a path to God. Today, labyrinths are used as elements of landscape design, decorative features in parks, and theme-park attractions.

“Labyrinths with dead ends, mirrors, and other such features are simply a form of entertainment, a purpose labyrinths started to be used for in the seventeenth and eighteenth century,” Tokarev explains.

So what does walking a labyrinth do for a person? The theory is that they promote inner harmony, encourage mental concentration, and help people find answers to questions that are bothering them, even to kick bad habits.

“People who begin going through them quit drinking and begin to smoke less,” Tokarev claims. “Once consciousness is cleansed, drinking vodka is no longer interesting. When we enter a labyrinth and walk toward its center, we destroy our previous state and, upon leaving, enter a new state.”

Many people who experience labyrinths come back for more. “There are tourists who come here every year,” said KARO director Oleg Kardakov. “Things start going well in business and their personal life, and they are afraid of losing that effect, so they come back to keep it going. This includes celebrities, such as Russian rock stars.”

People working in the arts also report that their labyrinth experience has had a particularly strong effect on their work.

“After going through, I wrote my best short stories,” says Bratsk writer and journalist Vladimir Stakhov, “and I have a friend who likes to draw, but her skills are still at what might be described as the embryonic stage. I kept telling her: ‘Go to art school and study what you’re interested in.’ But she for some reason thought that at her 40+ age it was too late. But after going through the Labyrinth of Creation, she decided to go to school after all. She recently showed me her pictures and I was amazed. She has really reached a new level, in comparison with what she’d been doing before.”

The “energy centers” in Altai are not just on dry land, but in its waters. The most famous is Lake Teletskoye, a UNESCO World Natural Heritage Site. It has been called “Baikal’s little brother” for its primeval beauty and for the fact that it contains Russia’s second largest supply of fresh water. Mystics and locals, however, have given the lake a different nickname: “the underwater graveyard.” This is because most of the people who have died in its waters were never found, including recently the former vice premier of the Altai Republic, Anatoly Bannykh. In February 2017, his helicopter crashed into a part of Lake Teletskoye that is more than 200 meters deep. A search lasting several weeks found neither no bodies (there were four other passengers on board), nor the helicopter.

Officially, the lake’s deepest point is 325 meters, but unofficial estimates range from one to eleven kilometers. Scientists have not been able to thoroughly investigate Lake Teletskoye, and some say that less is known about it than even the Pacific Ocean’s Mariana Trench. Of course, given the paucity of solid findings, rumors and legends abound. One is that Lake Teletskoye is the northern entry point into Shambhala, and that every night the sound of a ringing bell emanates from its depths.

The lake’s mysteries draw thousands of visitors every year. “Locals say that you shouldn’t love Lake Teletskoye too much or it will take you as its captive,” says Yelena Shevelyova, who lives in the village of Artybash, on the lake’s northern shore. “Altai teaches you to love, but not to become too attached or to cling.”

Shevelyova has lived in Altai since the early 2000s. She moved here from Yekaterinburg with her husband and children, twin boys.

“One of our sons didn’t display much emotion at first, he never even smiled. We visited Altai when he was three months old, and he started smiling for the first time. I saw this as a special sign and decided to stay.”

Yelena wanted to share the beauty and purity of these places with others, so she took up photography and started organizing excursions on and around Lake Teletskoye. Although Altai might not seem like the ideal spot for children’s recreation, Yelena managed to attract families with children. At her hostel in Artybash, she designs seasonal programs for young travelers, such as the Young Photographer School and her language camp, Treasure Lake. The children who attend combine study of English with treasure hunting adventures.

As Yelena describes it, people can undergo amazing transformations in the Altai. “Many change their profession, cut ties with their partners, and reevaluate their entire lives.”

The travel journal that Nicholas Roerich kept during his Central Asian expedition, Altai-Himalaya, includes the following notation: “From the south and from the north, from the east and from the west, they are thinking of the same things. [...] A center between the four oceans exists. Consciousness of the new world exists.”

Could Altai be that center? Could it offer a new world consciousness? People will have to ask Altai and listen for its reply.