I feel like I’ve gotten a pretty solid, normal routine down in Bishkek with classes, friends, and family dinners. But, really, when I stop and think about it, life isn’t so normal here. I’ve put together a list of a few weird occurences that are bound to leave someone scratching their head. Enjoy!

When animals attack. This was a weird one for sure. I was walking to my home when I found myself confronted by, not one but, two hissing cats! I hate cats to begin with, and this was straight out of a Stephen King movie creepy. I was doing nothing out of the ordinary when from out of the bushes came a cat hissing at me. It sat in front of me on this narrow path, basically blocking my way, and continued to hiss every time I took another step. Just when thought things could not get any freakier, another cat popped out of the bushes hissing at me! What is going on here?! If you remember my pre-trip preparation from long ago, I never did quite get those rabies shots, and for fear of getting infected with the disease – quite the last thing I need while in Kyrgyzstan – I slowly turned around and took the long path home. They won, those hissing cats. I can’t believe I let them win.

When people attack. I have witnessed a few fights here in Bishkek. The first time I was at Osh Bazaar when I looked over to see a few guys rumbling in the dirt. One of the guys was apparently drunk, and the other, dressed in a suit, eventually got loose and started running away as fast as he could with a cell phone in his hand. The blatantly drunk guy totally got his phone jacked. The second fight was just this week during my walk to school. One guy was shouting and kicking another guy in the face while a girl was in the middle and trying to break it up. I have no idea what it was about, but it was very awkward to witness. And the third also happened this week while walking to class. It was between a marshrutka driver and some guy in a car. They got out and yelled at each other until the guy in the car wacked the other in the face, making the marshrutka driver bleed. Man, mornings are not good around here!

When you get infected with bird flu. I have no idea if bird flu has ever been an issue in Kyrgyzstan, but I started to wonder a few weeks ago when walking to school. Two mornings in a row, there was a street corner with a huge pile of dead chickens waiting for the trash collector. This seemed very out of the ordinary to me since they looked to be perfectly good chickens, besides the whole being dead part. It wasn’t as if they had been mauled by an animal, and they weren’t pieces of leftover chickens. Why would anybody in poor Kyrgyzstan get rid of something that would make them money?! I remember saying to myself, “Ok, Brooke, let’s not get sick. No one wants to hang out with a girl who has bird flu.” Oh, and what happened just 2 weeks ago? Yes, that’s right. I got sick. Remember all that feeling great in Bishkek jive I was spewing a month earlier? Must have been all the vodka.

When your host family doesn’t care that you have bird flu. Remember how I mentioned our family dinners were communal activities where your personal utensil is also the serving utensil? Remember how, at the same time, I questioned what would happen if one of us got sick? Well apparently people here don’t understand that sickness is passed through saliva because when I told my family I didn’t want to reuse my utensil in the noodle dish because I was sick, they said it’s normal and I should anyways. Fine. At that point I was secretly hoping they would get sick to prove a point, but even after my little sister got the sickness, they continue to cough, spit, touch all food; they continue to drink off the same glass; they continue to not understand that I don’t want to be sick again! Wow, am I glad to be moving into an apartment at the end of this month!

When your apartment warming gift from your landlord is an entire sheep in your freezer. When Brian and I lived in New York last summer, the landlord was keen on giving us a 6-pack of Brooklyn beer whenever the rent was paid. Here, however, I guess the gift is an entire sheep?! Ryan and Chris just moved into an apartment about 10 minutes from school - a far cry from my 45 minute walk now – and I will be joining them at the end of the month. Ryan sent me a text message saying that the landlord came with a big duffel of sheep meat and put it in the freezer. What?! Could this be how life in the Kyrgyz apartment renting market is really like? No, sadly it is not. The landlord is just using the freezer for a bit, but at least he will be cooking up some plov with it in return.

When people think you are 10 years younger. Wow. Today at the language school, some Kyrgyz kids said I looked 15! 15! Need I say more?

After going days without showering in Guatemala because the water was too cold, I knew it was going to be bad when I found out that Bishkek turns the hot water off in the entire city for an entire 30 days! I thought it was some sort of joke when another student said he heard this, but no, it was definitely no joke. I asked the administration in the school office and they acted as if it were no big deal. Bishkek needs to flush out the hot water system, which must be extremely inefficient because it takes a month to do it. Well I wish I would have known about this before planning on being in Bishkek in May!

Last Monday morning I went to wash my face, but alas, it began! There was a quick sputter-sputter-spit nose and only a few drops of the hot stuff. After that, the only drops of hot water falling were my tears as I braved a few cold showers – and I’m not talking Guatemala cold showers here – I’m talking the cold water must be cooled extra before being dispensed from the tap because I have no idea how the water can be that cold when it is so freaking hot outside! So, the only real way to deal with this dilemma is to give up on real showers and only take a proper bath when I have time/energy to deal with boiling a huge pot of water.

And if that wasn’t enough to make life interesting, the whole of Kyrgyzstan has been dealing with power shortages. See, Kyrgyzstan is self-sufficient with hydroelectricity, which is good because they don’t have the money to buy electricity from other countries. But, apparently, this year the water in the dams is extremely low meaning they have to scale down on electricity expenditure. Because of this, the electricity at my home will go out anywhere between midnight and 1 am until 6 am – with occasional outages during the day lasting 5 hours or more. And, even though it hasn’t happened yet, there is definitely the possibility of getting caught in one of my rare showers in the dark. That’s ok, though. I have a large stash of small flashlights and even one on my cell phone to save the day.

When I had finally come to terms with the idea of being a bit dirtier than I’d like to be during the next month, Ryan, a fellow student, dropped another bombshell. He informed me that it might even end up that Bishkek will be without both HOT and COLD water in June! I laughed. No way, right?! Of course it is all a big rumor, but when he showed me the blog post of one of the teachers at the London School (yes, blogs are great for stalking), it all kind of made sense. You can read about the interesting water/electricity dilemma here on her blog if you would like.

Sounds like an exciting life, huh? Traveling/living in third world countries definitely does one thing – makes you appreciate the little things back home just a bit more. Right now I’m just looking forward to my trip to Kazakhstan on May 30th when I just might have the opportunity to take a blazing hot shower… and hang out with Borat.

But mainly, just for the shower.

The marshrutka is the main mode of public transport here in Bishkek, and like a bad metal concert in Peoria, it’s cheap, hot, overcrowded, and sometimes filled with drunk people. Mentioned in earlier Bishkek posts, I despise these little beasts, and yet often find myself stamping my foot for the next one to come. In that sense, I guess they are a lot like men: can’t live with ‘em and can’t live without ‘em. No?

Wikipedia even says the following:

In Central Asia (at least Uzbekistan,Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan), standing room is allowed on marshrutkas. Indeed, drivers will often encourage passengers to board the marshrutka and cram together until there is physically not enough space for another passenger to board; in such a case, once a passenger exits the marshrutka, the driver will stop for others and allow them on until it is full again. Marshrutkas may be boarded at bus stops, but will usually stop other places if hailed, and often won’t stop at bus stops unless a passenger requests an exit or a prospective passenger hails the marshrutka. Passengers may request to exit at any point, but may have to wait until the driver deems that it is convenient to stop.

I, and other students here, have had plenty of interesting marshrutka experiences thus far. To get a better idea of we are dealing with, here is a run-down of the marshrutka ride.

1) You pile into the little van, past the point where you think the door will not even shut anymore. Of course, you are standing in an awkward position, often with your neck bent against the roof. Someone’s crotch might be pressed against you in an uncomfortable place, and whose hand is that?

2) Since the car is so crowded, you can’t see out the windows to know when to get off. Being the new guy (gal) in town, it’s hard enough to keep all these monotonous streets straight. You finally decide you might be in the right place and push your way to the door with a few direct moshno’s.

3) Out on the street, covered in sweat, you realize that you have absolutely no idea where you are, and since class starts in just a few minutes, you run to catch a taxi – thus defeating the whole purpose of riding in a cheap marshrutka in the first place.

I’m quite used to this little song and dance nowadays, but was surprised this past weekend by an exceptionally strenuous marshrutka day. Three various experiences make last Saturday one to remember:

1) Midday, I popped onto a marshrutka to get to the center of town. The sun was blazing hot this day, and since the marshrutkas have NO OPENING WINDOWS, they become an oven. Sweat was dripping off my face. The only window that does work is the one by the driver, but just behind him someone was standing and taking all my fresh air. I stood in agony, just praying this guy next to me would ever so slightly move his head in hopes of getting a short burst of cooling-off goodness. Finally, he exited. I started to feel a bit faint from not eating yet and being so hot. I snatched up the coveted spot behind the driver, and just then, as we are sitting at the stoplight, I noticed the insane amounts of dust flowing in through the window. Yes, that would be the same air I so desperately wanted to hit my face just seconds before, but then, I began to fear the Bishkek dirt layer would end up covering my freshly showered body. What a dilemma! I cannot wait until it is actually considered HOT here.

2) Later in the day, Ryan, Chris and I decided to pop onto a marshrutka to cut down our walk time up to Vefa Center. At the stoplight, we popped into one, handed over our money, only to be concerned when he pulled the van over at the next block shouting the words “Ostanovka, Ostanovka!” to us. Uhm, what? Ok, you’re stopping, but this isn’t our stop. The driver grabbed a bunch of money and headed over to a cop. He came back, looked at us angrily, grabbed some more money and headed back to the cop. Apparently, this guy was paying a bribe to the cop because he let us on in an unauthorized marshrutka stopping zone. We didn’t know! The driver got back on one more time, handed us our money, and made us get out of the van – wide eyed and ever so confused about what just happened. It took us a while to realize we cost the guy some money, but then why would he not keep our money and take us up the road with everyone else? Guess he didn’t think we deserved it anymore. Have you ever been kicked off a marshrutka?

3) The final ride of the day ended up being yet another to remember. Ryan said that he thought 164 went by our street, so we hopped on and grabbed a seat for the ride. When the marshrutka passed where we would normally turn, we didn’t fret. We just figured it went around and came back up our street. A few minutes later, we started to hit dirt roads and dodging potholes. Hmm… Things were starting to look a bit desolate. At this point, we just figured we’d stay on and ride back into town when it turns around, but low and behold, this marshrutka was NOT going to go back into town. We ended up in a place where marshrutkas go to sleep – end of the line! Luckily, there was another one that was getting ready to ride into town, so we hopped on that one and went back to where we started off to begin with. At least the mountains looked nice from that area or else the ride would have been a total bummer!

And thus concludes my Marshrutka Mayhem – at least for now. I’m sure I’ll have plenty more stories to tell in the months ahead! And, there’s always a trolleybus around to switch things up.

I bet you have been wondering what life with my Kyrgyz family is like, right? I have purposely put off talking a lot about this because for the first week and a half, my host dad was away for work. Well, he finally arrived back home this past weekend and home life has changed drastically – not necessarily for the worse – and I am finally seeing how a Kyrgyz family normally functions.

Meet Mars: Mars is my host dad. He is in the Russian Delta Force as he put it, meaning he is in a special security team here in Kyrgyzstan. He practices Russian Judo (was a former Kyrgyzstan fighting champion), and even showed me the video documentary of his team breaking bottles over their heads and demolishing burning boards. Every night, except for the first night when he spent hours singing Karaoke, we have watched some sort of video involving the military. He is very passionate about his work, which is always refreshing to see, and is very much in line with anti-terror governments. He might sound a bit on the scary side, but I assure you he is a very easy-going man.

Meet Aizada: Aizada is my host mom. She is a German teacher, which makes me wish I had retained a little bit more from my semester years ago. It is funny because when she cannot think of what to say in Russian, she will say it in German hoping it will ring a bell. She tries really hard to communicate with me. I am still slowly coming along with this Russian learning business. I might have to stay a bit longer than I was planning (but that’s not so bad, right!).

I guess German is actually a common language here in Kyrgyzstan. When I am out and about, I often get asked if I speak German. I asked Aizada about this and she said that after the war, all in Central Asia had to learn to read German in case there was another. Just a little tidbit!

Meet Rasul: Rasul is my 7 year old host brother. He doesn’t talk much and, like any other young boy, spends most of his time playing video games on the computer. He also never wants to eat unless its meat.

Meet Mira: Mira is my 4 year old host sister. She is the one I get along with the best! We use words like “play” and “doll”. When we can’t think of anything else to say, we just watch cartoons.

Since Mars arrived home, our dinners have grown in size and also in their communality. For example, we might have a big plate of Russian salad in the middle of the table, but there is no serving spoon, and no plates, so we eat off our fork and then stick it back in for more. Also, Mars has no problem eating off the serving spoon for the main dish. What do we do if someone gets sick?!

Well that’s about it. We live in a small apartment in a nice little microdistrict of Bishkek. When I step outside in the morning, the mountains are in full view. More updates later.

PS - I just learned that we are not going to have hot water for a month starting mid-May!