What a Weekend

Weekend. Whirlwind. Whirlwind weekend. That was my most recent activity. For what reason was it a whirlwind? We shall soon see.

First, I was planning to go with nine other volunteers to Taraz, Kazakhstan for a day trip. The decision started a couple weeks back, and I decided to take some of my annual leave to go. That was all set, I got approved and became excited. Next, PC Kstan's country director called me up on a Thursday and requested I come in for Sunday (Easter) because there was a VAC (volunteer advisory committee -- the one I was elected to be a rep for) meeting. After a bit of prodding I was convinced to go -- Taraz one day, Bishkek the next. That's quite a bit of travel!

Taraz. Taraz is nice. Taraz is beautiful. I love Taraz... (sorry, just had to have some mimic homework answers to go along with that). It was a real nice trip, I must say. I was promised a land of mangoes and exotic fruit, but after having recently read the novel "What is the What" I figured it was similar to the Sudan/Ethiopia contortion relayed by the Lost Boys. I wasn't too disappointed in that regard -- there was no exotic fruit waiting to be purchased by eager PC volunteers that day, just a great deal more of the fruit we already have in Talas. However, there was a great deal that was noticably different about that city. First off: color. Going there made my eyes want to water; buildings are painted practically all shades of pastel, I thought I was walking through Easter more than once. I heard that blue, maybe all blue, maybe just the tealish-blue of the Kazakh flag, is a free paint color in Kazakhstan because it displays patriotism, pride, or some other such image-bolstering factor. In any case, things are colorful enough to warrant such a claim, although there were quite a few pink buildings as well... sort of like Mexico.

Anyway, the trip, for me, consisted of going to a cafe, a restaurant, and then a supermarket. Walking around we saw these buildings, and lush, cared for parks, and cars actually stopping for pedestrians rather than speeding up at the site of them and honking madly, and women not wearing joluks (head scarves -- culture here demands married women to wear them, particularly when with family), and just... difference. Anyway, we went to the first cafe (along the way some volunteers got random street food -- one bought doughnuts!! they were so good), which was pretty nice. There I got a milkshake (been a long time since I've had one of those) and a chicken wrap. It was delicious. We spent maybe an hour or so at this spot, then decided to move on to the restaurant. Some people went to use the internet cafe; I decided not to and so mosied on with the other half of the group.

The Georgian Cafe. That's right, Georgian food, in Taraz Kazakhstan. In the States I would have given a skeptical eye to such a notion. At this point, however, it's not Kyrgyz food so I'm just excited for anything different (particularly if it's not sheep, noodles, or potato). I must say, the cuisine was top notch. One of the volunteers is pulling his second tour, his first being in Georgia, so he knows a thing or two about the food. One thing I couldn't stop hearing about was hachipori, which is "cheesy bread" similar to a pizza with no sauce. We ordered two of those, some salads, an assorted mix of different tastes such as walnut paste wrapped in eggplant (pretty good), a couple minor dishes of chicken smothered in walnut sauce, and the grand pubah -- dishes of pork chops served with some veggies and a spicy plum sauce. Oh my. Oh my... It was so good. Eating that burger in Bishkek, although it's still something I often dream about, has nothing on this. Delicious, scrumptious, excellent ethnic food blows garbage like burgers right out of the water -- and that's what this was. I was so happy -- everything was so good, and pork is a rare meat (never eaten by Kyrgyz) that was prepared very well here. I'm a fan, instantly. Georgian food quite possibly could be saving my life.

After the restaurant we went on over to "Gros Mart" as the volunteers dubbed it -- in Kyrgyzstan it's usually Narodni (which we don't have any of in Talas), but in Kazakhstan it seems to be Gros, the big supermarket. When we walked in things were disappointing. Either they had a big sale, someone robbed them, or they're going out of business because the shelves were mostly empty. Perhaps that's good for me -- last time I was in a packed Narodni I had that semi-panic attack. But I managed to find some good items -- bought a hilarious Russified bottle of Heinz Ketchup, clothespins, curry powder, cayanne pepper, and a jar of (what I find to be a hilarious name) Fruit of the Forest jam, which comes from Spain and has a funny description written in English. Most other volunteers were disappointed in Gros; I was fine with it, but then again feeding the mouse in my room and finding random pears at the bazaar makes me happy these days.

We came on back through the border. On the way to and from Taraz, right as you get into Kazakhstan, one can see a rather intriguing site -- some nuclear plant reactors. That in and of itself is enough to warrant interest from someone like me, but there are homes and sheep grazing right next to the thing. I took a couple pictures (didn't manage to get the sheep grazing in one though... regret that immensely), and was reminded of the guest speaker we had come speak on campus in the fall of 2007 about Darfur and the particular situation he got into (and the franticness of that... Dr. A!). Also along the way, there's a dam on the Kyrgyz side right before entering Kazakhstan. On this dam there's a huge, ginormous Lenin head carved into one side. We're told it's either the largest Lenin head in the world, or Central Asia (I forget which). Still, it's impressive. Didn't get a good picture of it though.

That night I stayed in Talas City with one of the coolest volunteers in-country, then the next day headed out for Bishkek. On the way there I saw skiiers once again, probably taking advantage of what real snow they can while it's still around (I've seen them every single time I've gone to Bishkek, I think they're European or something...). It was a bit unnerving because it was the first time I was in the big city by myself and I just don't know my way around. I got my destination from my director and asked my driver if he could take me there -- he could, just for some more money (per usual... Kyrgyz people never pay extra to go to their Bishkek destination). I wasn't complaining, however, because if I got dropped off at the voksal (bus station) I would have to pay a lot for a taxi anyway, and I wasn't going to risk a marshrutka or bus. The driver got me to the correct street, took me in a couple blocks, overshot the target number, and I just got out. When I got out I saw someone with nice washed hair and a backpack heading in the general direction I needed to go, and thought "That's a volunteer!" The problem is, once I got to my destination after about 10 minutes, that person kept on walking. Lesson learned: people in Bishkek sometimes have backpacks, wash their hair, and act a bit more Western (not to mention more white/Russian people live there than in Talas). But I got to the hotel, the receptionist mercifully knew English (another thing about Bishkek, a lot of people speak Russian and Russian only), and I got my room. It was still an hour and a half before I needed to go anywhere, so I decided to... dun dun dun, take a shower! It amazed me, not only hot running water, but a legit tub, and shower curtains! I haven't seen shower curtains since July 5th last year. Heaven! I miss showers so much...

After getting all prettied up, it was time to head out to the director's apartment. I was meeting up with another volunteer (who's actually a volunteer leader, a special position -- half volunteer, half PC staff) who was going to help me get to this apartment. I saw a different volunteer walking along the street on the other side, decided to call him up to get his attention, and we stood in front of the hotel for a few minutes waiting for volunteer leader to come by. We were all heading there, so it was a good time. The apartment is nice. It's good for American standards. Very spacious, has a balcony, dining room, well-applianced kitchen, etc. There are even security guards at it. Bishkek is like another world, and this apartment yet another world inside that other world. Anyway, we were served iced tea and juice first, with some pistachios and cashews and olives for appetizers, then the main course of salad (with lettuce! rare!) and pizza came, with a delicious and super chocolatey cake (from King Arthur, a New England company apparantly, who makes cake mixes -- wink wink nudge nudge for those interested in package ideas). We discussed current situations throughout dinner, primarily trying to figure out how to improve what we have and remain safe. It was good being with this group of people, though... particularly the volunteers. And it was Easter. Forgot about that (my host eje, after telling me she doesn't know this holiday because she's Muslim, told me I was wrong, Easter is the 19th because that's when the Russians celebrate it...).

After the meeting I went back to my room and waited for the phone call from home. During the meeting my brother called me -- thankfully they could call back. It was great being able to talk to home again, this is only the 6th or so (3rd for someone else... though I'm not sure how accurate the 6th is) time I've gotten a call from home while in-country. Call more! Anyway I got to hear Nate doing his thing in the background -- so weird, he's still just the little guy who couldn't stand on his own in my memory -- and talk to everyone in the fam for an hour. It makes things a little better that I got to have good food throughout the weekend -- it was certainly no lasagna, but it helped a lot with my state of happiness. And I'm going to be a godfather soon! Man oh man I wish I could be in America for a while for that. Time to clean up my act, though, stop partying so hard, settle down a bit, stop going to crazy countries and doing what I'm doing...

On Monday I went in early for some business-type items at PC headquarters. Met with the director one-on-one in an attempt to try getting Taraz weekend travel for the entire oblast of Talas (current policy states anyone within 35 kilometers of a border crossing, which excludes the majority of the oblast). Hopefully things work out with that. After HQ, I met up with another volunteer and went out with her to lunch. We went to a 60's style restaurant, I was in shock. It was an American-style restaurant, akin to your Chile's or Friday's or whatever with the photos and memorabilia along the wall (they had Martin Luther King, Jr. up, I'm impressed!) and 60's music playing. It was an awesome place. We both got barbeque chicken, which was also amazing (the sauce was real bbq sauce), and sat there for an hour or two talking and having a good time (I think...). It was funny watching the locals come in and order tea and bread (in retrospect it may be an economical thing, the other items are a bit pricey) in this American-styled restaurant that serves pizza, bbq, burgers, etc. It was a good time, I just wish I had more than a morning and noon to spend in the city with this volunteer.

Afterward she took me to the bus stop and waited until a bus that would go to the voksal came along (she lives in Chui oblast and, despite denying decent knowledge of the city, knows Bishkek a lot better than I do). We said our goodbyes and I hopped on, feeling happy and contented. The bus ride took an hour. At one point I got off at the wrong spot (Dordoi Bazaar, a rather huge place I wouldn't want to be on my own) after paying the driver, mistaking the myriad marshrutkas for the voksal. Luckily traffic forbade the bus from travelling too far, so as soon as brain told body this isn't right, I scurried back and explained to the driver (him speaking to me in Russian, me speaking to him in Kyrgyz, and everything seeming to make sense) where I was going. The bus was much emptier at this point (I had stood the entire time) so there were some seats open; I left a seat near me open just in case an older person or female wanted to sit, as is customary in country. A couple minutes into the ride, a babushka sitting next to me told me to sit; I told her I don't understand Russian, but the Russian lady sitting next to her said, in English, "Sit down please." I sat down next to an eje (Kyrgyz woman, maybe in her 40s) and had a decent conversation with her and the Russian lady (who knows some English) sitting across the aisle. I told them I know Talas, but I don't know Bishkek -- I'm going to the voksal. I was told "in 5 minutes" and that it's good I know Kyrgyz -- there are Kyrgyz people/children who don't know Kyrgyz. Azamat/Maladetst! When they got off they told the driver "that boy there is going to the voksal, let him know when you get there, help him out" etc. We got to the voksal, I told the driver I paid him 10 som when I got off at the bazaar, and he handed me 4 som back (which is correct, the bus only costs 6 som). A potentially harrowing bus experience turned into a rather positive one! At the voksal I bulled on past the hagglers trying to get me to go somewhere or another, went right to the Talas spot, heard not Talas but somewhere even better -- the next big village which is west of me (thus good, they would pass through my village) -- and that they needed only one more person. I went right up to the driver, got a good price right off the bat, and had a gorgeous ride home with nothing but the wonderous lunch and the company of said meal to think about for the next five hours.