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…

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?

I hate to admit it, but I would have to say I’m a difficult person. I’m stubborn, have an insane amount of pet-peeves, and have a sometimes irrational germ phobia. When another student found out that I hate the idea of drinking or eating off random people, he responded with a shocked, “And you came here?!” Yes, I did come here, and I am happily working on my germ phobia. The kids in the family I am living with spit and cough on everything. We double-dip our teaspoons, use our hands to divvy out green onions, and eat our bread off the table top.

In light of all this “letting my guard down” behavior, I decided to conquer yet another fear – taste testing Shoro. Shoro is this crazy little drink that the Kyrgyz love. It is sold on nearly every street corner. On a normal day, you will see children, adults, and grandparents standing around these jugs chugging down some of the good stuff. The only problem is that it kind of smells like rotten food, or as I put it, old beer. The particular type I chose was the wheat-based drink, which is supposedly very healthy. Anthony, another American in town, said it took him about a month of trying it before he liked it. Now, he just can’t get enough.

So, I bit the bullet and gave it a whirl. You can see my reaction in this little video! Enjoy!