According to MSN news, 65 people died today when a plane crashed near the Manas Airport in Kyrgyzstan. It was very scary to hear about this news since there was already rumors about the safety of different airlines that come in and out of K-Stan. Stories heard from fellow students in Bishkek about the creepy plane they rode back from Osh, or when others coined it “Tragic Air” instead of “Tajik Air”, definitely leave a feeling of anxiety in the pit of my stomach. At least you’ll be happy to know I’m flying back to Kazakhstan on KLM, which is a pretty reputable European based airline.

You can read more about the tragedy at this link.

In an attempt to be caught-up and on-the-ball upon my return abroad in September, I’ve decided to combine all these little ideas for individual blog posts into one smorgasbord of interesting bits. So, here you have it! What I’ve learned, loved, lacked and l-acquired (?) while in Central Asia.

Snot Rockets in Paradise:

If said more than a few times in the past, but I am super, super, super germaphobic. I hate the idea of eating off other people, with a passion, once that may have even brought me to tears. Something about the thought of someone else’s slimy saliva sitting on my food, or the idea of getting sick from their germs… ugh… well it makes me cringe. I came a long way during my time in K-Stan, and sometimes I am able to block this fear out of my head completely and just dig in. (I only said sometimes…)

Well if this wasn’t bad enough, there are definitely other parts of the culture I find a bit on the disgusting end of the spectrum. Watch out when you’re walking behind some local guys. Let’s just say they have a tendency to spit or blow snot rockets off to the side, and if you’re in the right place, you just might get caught in the crossfire.

Plastic Bag Much?

In Bishkek, a city where the majority of people commute by public transport, or just plain walking, locals need a way to carry items to work, school, etc. The funny part about this is they choose to do so in a plastic bag. Everyone has a plastic bag. They are so popular you can even buy them at little kiosks with their own local brand names. Erica hit the jackpot when she bought a plastic bag displaying a picture of an eagle with the line, “Protect Feral Animal” on it. You have to love those great English translations.

Meet the Family:

The Kyrgyz are definitely quick to take you as a part of their own family, and one such experience stands out in my mind. Ryan and I were finishing dinner in the apartment when I heard someone shouting outside, “Do you speak English?!”

I popped my head out the balcony and looked up to see my upstairs neighbor hanging his head out of the window. After a short exchange, he invited us up to his apartment, where we were fed lagman (yum!), introduced to his entire family, and then made part of said family. How nice!

Going Local:

There’s a term the students at the London School liked to use when a foreigner comes in and then starts worrying about a price difference of 5 soms, or starts to enjoy local beverages. When this happens, they’ve “gone local”.

Remember that poll I had about drinking fermented mare’s milk? Let me refresh your memory:

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The drink is actually called Kumiz and is as disgusting as it sounds. But, when you are at a table of foreigners with a pitcher of this stuff in the middle, and a table of local Kyrgyz look at it and say, “I want what they’re having,” you know you’ve done it. You’ve gone local.

When it’s hot, it’s hot!

I had heard stories of the heat in Bishkek, but didn’t believe it would actually be that bad until one day it reached 110 degrees while I was living on the 8th floor of an apartment building without air conditioning. I wanted to die.

Maybe High Heels DO Look Good With… Everything?

Another student told me a fairly bad joke that goes a little something like this:

Q – How can you spot the Russian woman at the beach?
A – She’s the one in the high heels.

I don’t know how those girls over there do it, but they are always sporting a pair – rain or shine! And just like worrying over 5 soms, in time I began to think, “Hey, maybe those heels would go good with my bathing suit.” No, I don’t have a pair yet, but give it time people.

Bishkek - Nightlife Hotspot?

No, not really. But, there are a few places to go after nightfall for some action, take for instance, the Golden Bull where we found this Kyrgyz stripper/flame dancer.

Where Everyone Knows Your Name:

I flew out of Almaty, Kazakhstan to come home, and that involved yet another Kyrgyz-Kazakh border crossing experience. I had all of my stuff with me (I have acquired a LOT while in Bishkek), so the taxi driver let me keep my bag in the back of the taxi and explain to the border guys what was actually in it so I didn’t have to carry it. As I was standing there talking to one, I heard another from behind say my name.

Crap. I turned around to see a familiar face – one of the ten border guards that I dealt with back in June. He started asking me why I hadn’t called Rinat back, and when I would come back, etc. I got out of that one by saying I needed to go have my passport stamped, but as I was walking out I was shouted at to see my backpack.

Lies. All lies. He didn’t want to see my bag. He wanted to verify with my passport that I was in fact that American girl that Rinat was desperately phoning the previous month or so before. Wow.

Room for seconds? Keep checking back…

There is no doubt that I truly despised my landlady in Bishkek. Landlord was not so bad, but ever since his putting the body in the freezer day he was few and far between. Landlady, on the other hand, made her presence quite known. I found her quite annoying!

Even before I officially lived in the apartment, she got on my nerves. For no reason at all she would stop by, budge her way in and start snooping. It didn’t matter what we were doing – watching a movie, cooking – she would stay for an extended and awkward time, and then use our phone before heading out (yeah, we paid that bill, too).

When I officially moved into the apartment, she would only ask to speak with Ryan on the phone. Well, that’s fine because his Russian is amazing unlike mine. Well, Ryan left at the beginning of July, which left Liam and I to deal with her craziness. The day before rent was due, she made it known that we owed $150 dollars more than we thought we owed. After having a very long and horrible shouting match on the phone (in Russian by the way), I told her I needed to speak with Liam before proceeding. He then proceeded to call her and set up a meeting at the apartment to calculate why we owe $100 for utilities (it is usually around 500 soms) and $50 more for rent (when we previously agreed on the set amount). Well when we did the calculating, we came to the fact that we only owed about 500 soms ($15) for utilities, and that’s what we paid. Ha, landlady! Try taking advantage of me again!

Even after this very awkward incident, she proceeded to phone us all the time, many times in a row. She actually EXPECTED us to WANT to help her learn English… for FREE… even after she tried to rip us off of all that money! WTF?! I stopped answering the phone.

Then, the final day I was there I was expecting a call from her, but this was ridiculous. I was walking out of Ramstore with some food and heading home. I saw her on my phone ID, but decided I would just phone her back after I got home. The walk takes seriously less than 20 minutes, but this crazy insane Kyrgyz woman called me 15 times. FIFTEEN times!!!!!!! Then, to make it just a bit more interesting, I walked into the apartment to find her and landlord chilling on the couch in the living room with my couchsurfer (who doesn’t speak a lick of Russian). I mean really?! Who is THAT crazy to just call and call and call and call like that?!

So, they wanted to know when I was leaving so they could get the apartment keys. I was planning on leaving early in the morning in order to avoid the heat, so I said I would try and leave at 7am. However, I offered to just leave the keys on the table and push the special bolt lock button (the one that caused great troubles before for us because we don’t have a key for it). Erica was also with me and offered to bring the keys to them since she was coming in the morning to get some stuff from me anyways. The landlady took her number in her cell phone as if this was the preferred method, but before they left she agreed for me to just leave the keys on the table and push the weird bolt lock button – MEANING – I would not have to leave at any specific time in the morning (I wouldn’t be meeting them in person for a key exchange) and it was completely UNNECESSARY for Erica to give her phone number to her.

“Oh man, Erica. That crazy lady has your number now!” I said. “What a sneaky crazy woman!”

Later that evening, I checked the weather and found out that it was NOT going to be super hot the next day. With that in mind, and the fact that I no longer had to meet with the landlords at any specific time for a key exchange, Erica and I stayed up all night having an early 90s dance party and eating watermelon instead of packing up the apartment. To my dismay, I awoke at 6:40am to the Landlord at the door waiting for the key!!!! He looked at me in shock and said, “You said 7.” I wanted to scream.

At this moment, I phoned Erica and hopped in the shower quickly because he was in the living room waiting for me to leave. We loaded up the taxi with ALL the items that were bought for the apartment because I absolutely did not want these people to have ANYTHING of value after I left. I gave our stuff (bedding, dishes, etc.) to Erica to disperse as necessary to other people. I did, however, leave them a cell phone that could not be unlocked in Kyrgyzstan, a broken suitcase full of Ryan’s old socks, and some juice. Ugh, I am so glad to be done with that, but I do miss our place.

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Walmart, McDonald’s, and Stop n Shop’s do not exist here (although Narodnie is an excellent little grocery store) in K-Stan. So, when I want to buy something not of designer quality, I head to the bazaar – a place I love, a place I hate… a place I simply love to hate!

Shopping at the bazaar used to be an insanely overwhelming experience, but now that normalcy has set in after a few months in Central Asia, I find them quite pleasurable (I’ll go there when I’m bored just to look around), and sometimes very amusing. Here I would like to share a few of the amazing finds that just make me giggle:

I’m an XXL?!

When wanting to add a pair of underwear to my wardrobe, I went to the underwear aisle to find a suitable piece. When the lady asked me my size I told her I was American and did not know for sure according to their labels. She pulled out a Large and said it was the normal size here.

I stood there for a few minutes looking at the very tiny piece of material held in front of my eyes. That’s normal?! It was at that moment that I looked around and quickly addressed the fact that these Asian and Russian girls have NO HIPS whatsoever, and I with my American-sized caboose am a bazaar panties size XXL. Go me.

The best T-shirt ever!

Since I only arrived in Bishkek with 2 t-shirts, I desperately needed more to add to my tiny wardrobe, especially when it started getting warm outside. I just couldn’t pass this one up when I found it.

“It’s timeta take your heart on the thing for dry cleaning. The dry cleaning service vanderful your winter clohets. Your dry cleaning service wonderful suggestions.”

My new kicks!

Yes, these shoes are on my feet. I simply couldn’t take my eyes off of them – just look at all the colors!

Toothpaste or propaganda?

While browsing through the Chinese market, I came across this toothpaste. Instead of it reading “Whitening Power”, it simply states “White Power”. I have since seen this brand in the normal supermarkets so it is not indigenous to just the bazaars, but still deserves a shout-out.

Cheap Tupperware!

I just love all the Chinese products that make it over here with horrible English on it. Just take a look at this Tupperware.

“Cook should use convenient and smart kitchenware. Because good tool bring great pleasure in cooking. And cooking with pleasure bring delicious food.”

Well it is good to know that my cooking will be good when I use these!

And so conclude my bizarre bazaar finds thus far, but don’t you worry… There’s plenty more where that came from.

If you’re the least bit familiar with the country of Kyrgyzstan, then you most likely know a little bit about the infamous Lake Issyk-Kul. I started hearing stories back in May of the lake’s power, especially in the months of July and August when the Bishkek heat can be almost unbearable (as I am currently finding out now!).

What they don’t tell you about is the gruesome history this amazingly beautiful land contains. Stories of Cyanide poisoning and nuclear testing (?) have been brought up on many occasions. Eep!

A few weeks ago, my good friends here and I decided we should head out there before they leave me lonely in Bishkek. We stayed the night in a yurt, feasted ourselves on plov until we thought we would explode, and baked at the beach. Here is a little video of our time spent there, taking a dip in the icy waters of a former cyanide infected, nuclear tested lake. Enjoy!

Ok, so peeps, my blog has been blocked here in the great world of Central Asia. I finally found a way to route my browser so it doesn’t recognize where I’m coming from. Oh, man, I have so many great stories to share with all you readers, so sit tight!

heart sign,

Brooke

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!