Adorable Animals of Bar-Bulak in Action!

Watch Buddy, Котчик, cow, and Mocha interact with me and with each other. So cute! Also, you might be able to tell that my voice was in the early stages of returning, haha.

New School and No Banya

29 June 2013

This morning, Rita and I walked up to the new school building. It has apparently only been open for two years, so it is really quite new. Inside, the building is just as lovely as it appears from the outside. The classrooms are large, well lit, and well-equipped, making up for its inconvenient location. During the summer the school (like most Kyrgyz schools) is closed for ремонт (that wonderful word which can mean repair, reconstruction, remodeling, or maintenance). As the school’s director, Rita needed to check in and see how the ремонт was going and I got to tag along in order to check out the inside of the school. While it is a really great building, I don’t regret my decision to teach in the old school, given its convenient location. Also, it might have been somewhat challenging to teach at the new school amidst the paint fumes and other ремонт efforts.

Okay, so I posted this picture before, but I wanted to remind you what the exterior of the new school looks like.
And then there's the interior: And there I am :-)
The view from the school's front porch, looking south

After leaving the school, we stopped at the first house down the hill to request use of their banya later that day. Unlike my hosts in Toguz Bulak, my hosts here in Bar Bulak do not have their own banya. While they do actually have a nicely tiled indoor shower… there is no running water or plumbing, and as such it is essentially used for storage and nothing else. Sigh. As such, they must either rent a banya from one of the local families who have one, or they must travel to the town of Balykchy (about a thirty minute drive) to use one of the public banyas. I was very excited at the prospect of using the banya, as it had been nine days since my previous banya experience. Unfortunately, shortly after we returned home, it began to rain. For some reason that was unclear to me, the rain canceled the banya. Ahh well. Such is life in the village.

I spent the afternoon in bed with Котчик – what else is there to do when it’s raining? – except for the brief interlude of an hour or so when we popped over to the next-door neighbor’s house for tea. “Tea” of course, is pretty much always a full-fledged meal. This meal consisted of oromo, a pastry and vegetable dish of which I had heard but previously never tasted.

Котчик

By the end of the day, I had eaten four meals, and I’m pretty sure that the family had eaten one before I awoke. Sitting around with friends and family, drinking tea and eating is such a huge part of Kyrgyz culture. My stomach is too small to keep up! The thing is, while most of them are (shall we say) fairly solid, I’ve yet to see a single morbidly obese person here, unlike in the US where they abound. I’m guessing this has a lot to do with the lack of preservatives and other unnatural chemicals in the food here, combined with the amount of hard work these people do every day. During the school year, Rita, her coworkers, and their students walk the steep kilometer or so to the school every day. In contrast, I’ve seen my neighbors in Orlando drive across the parking lot from their door to the mailbox instead of walking.

From Toguz Bulak to Bar Bulak

June 25, 2013

My last classes at the school in Toguz Bulak went well. Many of my students had their cell phones out recording our songs and my last lesson, and of course many of them insisted on having their photos taken with me. I gave them all my address and my email address, but who knows if I will actually hear from any of them again (especially via the email address, given how few of them actually have internet access).

My last night with my host family was quite wonderful – although a tad bizarre. Nuraika and her Bishkek cousin decided that they wanted to dress in ‘traditional’ Kyrgyz clothes and have me take photos. Somehow the first part of this turned into dressing the two and a half year old boy, Nurel, in a shiny gold dress. Not sure why, but ok.

Then, once the girls had donned their outfits, Altynbek’s mother (who had definitely taken quite a shine to me) decided to gift me with a traditional Kyrgyz robe and hat. Then we took numerous family photos.

Best photobomb ever.
Me and the girls
Me and the family

Nursultan gave me a miniature felt yurt, designed to old pens, cell phones, documents, and other small items. I gave the kids a set of flashcards that I had made last semester and had brought with me (but which I hadn’t had the need to use) which consisted of photos of animals (both singular and plural) with the words identifying them in English on the back. I also gave Altynbek my wind-up lantern, as he had been so impressed by it during our snow-caused power-outage.

The following morning, though, my joy of living with these folks was slightly tarnished by their creation of the Worst Kite Ever: a bird with its leg tied to a string and a weight attached to the other end of the string to prevent it from flying more than a few meters. This catastrophe was then given to Nurel for his amusement. Given how I hate to see any animal suffer (especially when the suffering is merely for entertainment), this was rather traumatic for me, and an unfortunate final memory of my homestay in Toguz Bulak. (I did, however, get to use the seemingly useless phrase that I learned back in 2008 during my abortive attempt to study Kyrgyz: чымчыкка отурба – don’t sit on the bird.)

Altynbek and the bird kite
Altynbek flying the bird kite

Shortly after 10am, Kuban (pronounced with the b nearly silent), my “host father” from Bar Bulak arrived (not surprisingly, in a 20ish year old Audi) to ferry me to my new home. I put “host father” in quotes, as he is my age, and his wife, Rita, is a year younger than me. Although they have four kids… something that I cannot imagine ever having, much less having right now! He is some sort of imam at the local mosque, and he also owns or manages a farm. His wife is both a history teacher at the school where I will be teaching for the next four weeks and the school’s director. They have four kids, although one of the children is currently out of town. The remaining three are two girls (Aidai, 10 and Jarkynai, 2) and a boy (Akhmat, 4). Rita, Kuban, and Aidai all speak excellent Russian, so as in Toguz Bulak, I will have no trouble communicating with my host family. Akhmat seems a little confused as to why I don’t understand his Kyrgyz though!

I am actually staying in the older house next door to the house in which the family currently lives, and which seems to be used mainly for storage. My room, however, is quite comfortable and clean. After I unloaded all of my things into my new room, though, I discovered that the power was out. Hahahaha. Apparently I gave away my wind-up lantern too soon, as power-outages are fairly frequent here. Sigh. One of the first things I did was to turn on my computer to see if I had an internet signal of any sort with either my Beeline or MegaCom SIM cards. I had absolutely no cell signal on my phone, so I was quite surprised when my cell-modem connected. I was able to quickly shoot off a brief email to friends and family, letting them know that I had arrived in Bar Bulak, before I lost the signal entirely. The fact that I got a connection at all must have been a fluke, as I have yet to be able to re-connect. (You know the old adage that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result? Well, my hosts probably think I’m a bit nuts as I continue to attempt an internet connection over and over with absolutely no luck.)

The family lives in the building on the right; I lived in the building on the left.

Giving up on the internet, I went outside to explore. Near the back of the property, I spotted a small, reddish-brown, Mochi-type dog, which I approached using my talking-to-dogs voice. It skeedaddled. (It belongs to one of the neighbors.) Then I heard a loud, large-dog WOOF! At the back of the property, sadly stuck on a very short chain, was a large, white dog. I approached him, continuing to talk in my talking-to-dogs voice, and he immediately began wagging his tail. He turned out to be a big baby, who wanted nothing more than to have his head scratched. I was later told that I should be really careful around him because he is a “злая собака” (evil/angry dog) – hah! The dog and I are friends and he’s going to get a head rub every day for the next month.

Then it was time for tea – a bit of a slow process, as there was no electricity and we had to heat the water inside a fire-powered самовар. While we were drinking tea, the elder daughter mentioned something about a мышык. Now while мышык might sound an awful lot like the Russian word for mouse, it’s actually the Kyrgyz word for cat. My immediate reaction was to ask, “You have a cat?!” The answer? “Oh yeah, he’s around somewhere.”A scrawny, young, black tomcat showed up about half an hour later, vociferously demanding food and attention – and to my joy he was welcomed into the house.

As I am sure you are aware, I usually either travel with my pets or acquire pets at my destination. Or both. Not having pets during my month in Toguz Bulak was really difficult for me. The only thing I’ve missed more than non-sheep food has been my pets. The dog and cat here in Bar Bulak aren’t my pets, but they certainly are making for some lovely interim substitutes.

After tea, I scooped up the cat (whom I have decided to christen Котчик since he doesn’t have a name) and headed for my room to nap. Котчик was thrilled with the attention and purred and snuggled like crazy. I always like to read before I nap/sleep, but this time sleep was not to be. As I snuggled with Котчик while reading a book, Rita came in and told me that it was time to go to a party. It seems it’s always time to party in Kyrgyzstan.

Apparently one of their relatives had recently gotten married, and her family was having a feast in order to celebrate. At this point in my trip, such feasts have become commonplace for me: tables laden with breads, jams, salads, cookies, and candies, and multiple courses culminating in beshbarmak. There were two things that were different about this party: 1. No booze, and 2. More vegetables! Juice! Ham! I’d been a little worried that I might come down with scurvy up in Toguz Bulak with our meat-n-potatoes diet, occasionally augmented by an onion or a carrot or a plate of sliced cucumber. In contrast, the vast selection of salads at this party was impressive and I ate a lot. (I was surprised at the inclusion of a Russian-style, mayonnaise-covered salad containing diced ham, given the no-booze and prevalent Islamic paraphernalia at the home where the party was held, but I didn’t question it too much – it was meat from a non-sheep!

I had prepared myself for a six+ hour affair, but was pleased when things wound down around the three-hour mark, as I desperately needed a nap. We returned home, and I rounded up Котчик to be my napping partner. He snuggled, purred, and accompanied me to sleep – and was still at my side when I awoke two hours later.

I got up, organized my things for my first classes the following day (using the same initial lesson plan that I had used in Toguz Bulak), and then went out to watch Rita milk the cow. I even gave it a shot. Turns out milking a cow is harder than it looks. You have to pull on the cow’s teats surprisingly hard. I was able to do it, but nowhere near as rapidly as Rakhat or Rita. At that point Aidai said that she wanted to show me the mountains. We met up with a friend of hers, and walked across the street.

Bar Bulak parallels the main road along the southern shore of Issyk Kul. The bulk of the village is located on the southern side of the road, which is lush, green, and fertile. Directly across the road are large, steep, barren, scree-covered hills. We climbed to the top of one of the hills. From the top we could see the entire village, as well as Issyk Kul (located roughly two kilometers away).

Aidai
You can see Lake Issyk Kul on the right

After climbing back down the hill, we wandered over to the old school, located about 50 meters from “our” house – and where I will be teaching. There is a brand new school building in which I had been given the option of teaching; however, it is located over a kilometer away and atop a steep hill. Needless to say, I chose the nearby old school. The school building itself was locked, but we walked around the playground. Aidai and her friends played on the equipment and then picked a bouquet of flowers for me. At that point it had grown fairly dark, so we returned home.

The old school building

The Wonderful Waterfall of Arslanbob

May 17, 2013

Our homestay in Arslanbob was the exact same homestay in which K, J and I stayed five years ago. I’m even sleeping in the same bed. It’s wonderful ; Arslanbob is such an idyllic mountain paradise. When we arrived, exhausted and in various states of ill health we were given tea, bread with jam and honey, and walnuts. Arslanbob is well-known for its huge walnut forests. We drank our tea and snacked by candle-light as there was no electricity. We dug out our headlamps and our wind-up lanterns for trekking to the outhouse, then essentially passed right out.

In the morning I awoke astonishingly early and after taking in the incredibly mountainous views I spent the morning writing, and sitting in the tapchan at the overlook drinking tea. This is, in fact, how we spent most of the day, relaxing and attempting to recover from our previous day’s adventure. Also, the homestay has a cat, meaning that a significant amount of time was spent cat-stalking. She's hilariously demanding.

N and I on the tapchan

Around 3:30pm we walked down into the town “center.” The weather had been lovely all day, but of course the instant we left the house we were accosted by a brief downpour. We ended up taking shelter under an overhang next to a store selling creepy dolls, including one whose packaging read “Benign Girl.” Yay, products from China. After the rain stopped, we walked to the local CBT office to speak with Hayat, the coordinator. He’s a really friendly and outgoing fellow who seems to be doing an amazing job with CBT Arslanbob. After chatting with him for a while, we headed for the small waterfall, located just outside of town.

We arrived at just the perfect time: no one else was there, and the lighting was excellent. We played in and around the waterfall for some time, then strolled back to our homestay. Along the way we passed several kids who wanted us to take their photos so that we could then show them the pictures on our cameras’ viewscreens. We also passed several men trying to fix a downed electric wire themselves. When we returned to the homestay we had electricity for about 5 minutes. Haha.

B befriends an ass.




Me :-)

Back in Bishkek!

May 12, 2013

The first “day” of my trip spanned three dates (May 9-11) and roughly 43 hours (and for those of you who know my obsession with the number 43, not, I am not making that up). Thirty or so hours were spent in the tedious process of traveling from Orlando to New York to Istanbul to Bishkek. The trip wasn’t bad, although like any such lengthy trip, it wasn’t great either. I had a boring 5 hour layover in New York’s JFK (Terminal One of which seems to have been the design basis for Seoul’s ICN), followed by a ten hour flight in the middle seat next to a Bangladeshi fellow who was quite intent on sleeping on my shoulder. I’m not talking about the person who falls asleep and then topples over onto the person next to them whilst unconscious; this fellow actually said, “Can I sleep on you?” and then when I said no, proceeded to do it anyway. Grrrrr. I got very little sleep on the way to Istanbul as a result of this guy, but given how much I was fidgeting in my seat, I don’t think he slept much either. Hah.

In Istanbul I met up with B., and we obnoxiously cackled our way around the airport for about four hours before our flight left for Bishkek. (This included an incident in which B. became convinced that a flight departing for Mongolia with a layover in Bishkek – and which departed about 2.5 hours prior to our flight – was actually our flight. He even talked me into trying to board with him. The woman at the gate stamped his boarding pass before actually looking at it, and then telling him that this was a completely different flight and that ours left in 2.5 hours. Hah. Told you!) I was actually able to sleep on the flight to Bishkek, so I wasn’t completely dead to the world when we arrived at the Manas International Airport outside Bishkek at 5am local time on May 11th.

B with his incorrectly stamped boarding pass

I had to pay $70 (USD) for my student visa (yes, I was traveling under a student visa, even though I would actually be teaching, albeit as a volunteer) – this $70 fee was annoying as the tourist visa is free upon arrival, and since I had not been informed of this fee in advance. Luckily I had the cash I needed on me and was able to replace the “lost” $70 via an ATM in downtown Bishkek. I needed the “student” visa because I was planning to stay in Kyrgyzstan for two and a half months, and the tourist visa was only good for two months. While the initial student visa is only good for one month, it can be extended, while the tourist visa cannot be.

B and I met up with N and A who had arrived about an hour before us. We then hopped into our pre-arranged taxi (arranged through our hostel) and headed for said hostel – Sakura, located just outside the center of Bishkek, not far from the circus and the Hyatt. Check-in time at the hostel wasn’t until 11am, and we got there at 6am. Sigh. Luckily there was an incredibly adorable cat to play with. Eventually the owner awoke and let us put our bags up, although our beds were not yet ready. At that point we headed to Fatboy’s for breakfast.

B and the adorable cat
N and A at Fatboy's

On the surface, Bishkek seems nearly completely unchanged from 2008. Walking along Sovietskaya and Chuy, we felt as though we’d either never left or had stepped back in time five years. There were quite a few small, superficial changes, but overall nothing that stood out as a huge, fundamental change. Among the superficial changes we noted on our very first day back in the Motherland was the remodel of the interior of Fatboy’s. The menu was essentially the same, and the free selection of suspect reading material remained, but with the completely new remodel it was almost like being in a new (and not necessarily better) establishment. (In my opinion it was much cozier before.)

After breakfast, we strolled around the center of town. One main superficial change we noted was the replacement of the Erkendik (freedom) statue in Ala Too Square (which had been of a fantastical woman holding a tunduk – the top part of a yurt and the national symbol of Kyrgyzstan) with Manas (the legendary Kyrgyz hero), or as N put it, “trading freedom for nationalism.” The other was the addition of a new monument to the overthrow of Bakiev in the 2010 revolution. This monument is located next to the Kyrgyz White House. We also photographed Lenin (still lurking behind the State Historical Museum), then wandered over to Panfilov Park, taking pictures of creepy rides and riding the creaky ferris wheel. At that point we headed back to the hostel to check in and freshen up… then it was off to The London School.

Ala Too Square with the new Manas statue Ala Too Square looking the other direction One of the creepy rides in Panfilov Park The new monument to the 2010 Revolution

The London School has definitely changed a LOT in the past five years, although it remained quite similar nonetheless. The biggest difference was that it is now three stories (whereas five years ago it was only a two-story building – in my opinion this cannot be a good structural decision in a place prone to shoddy construction and earthquakes!) and it now has a huge office and reception area which filled half of the courtyard. Additionally, several of the old teachers’ apartments (including mine and B’s) are now classrooms. My old classroom, in contrast, is now the TLS teachers’ lounge. Most (perhaps all?) of the teachers live in a house off-site, and the remaining bedrooms where we all used to live are rented to foreign students who have come to TLS to study Russian or Kyrgyz.

The newly expanded London School as seen from the courtyard
My old bedroom!

We were very excited to discover that the tradition of keeping not entirely illicit cats at TLS continues (the staff continues to turn a blind eye). We met one of the resident cats, and of course played with it and held it for pictures while the security guard looked on in bemusement.

B, me, and N pose with a cat in front of our old rooms

After I had signed my volunteering contract and given TLS a copy of my passport and visa (so that they could begin the visa extension process) we went over to the VEFA center for the purpose of checking out the new (since 2008 anyway) Georgian restaurant located there. It turned out to occupy the expensive spot on the rooftop which can only be reached by taking the back elevator to the fourth floor then following a convoluted route of unmarked passages. We ate khachapuri adjarski (my favorite dish) as well as various salads. It was all quite delicious, although not as good as Mimino in Kiev (or actual food in Georgia I suspect, although I have yet to make it there).

N and A with khachapuri :-)

We then strolled through the grocery store on the first floor – no longer Ramstor, it is now Plus Market, where I picked up my “traditional” Kyrgyz snacks of Twix and chechil. Then we headed down Gorkova to the CBT office to confirm our homestay reservations for Kochkor and Arslanbob. CBT stands for Community Based Tourism, and this is without a doubt my favorite organization in Kyrgyzstan. They are incredibly well organized, very helpful, offer reasonably priced services, and something like 90% of the money they charge goes directly to the community members providing the various services (homestays, horse treks, transport, etc.).

At that point, I seriously felt like I was about to pass out from exhaustion – I was literally having trouble putting one foot in front of the other. We returned to the hostel, where I showered, then crawled into bed and slept for ten straight hours.

Adventures of an International Cat Lady

November 5, 2008

Traveling from Bishkek to The Small Southern Town with four cats – while definitely worth it – was probably one of the most ridiculous things I’ve ever done. I’ve already described the whole rigmarole I had to go through in Bishkek to get permission to take my cats out of Kyrgyzstan. That was just the beginning.

B overlooks my pile of possessions

At 2:30 Sunday morning, a taxi (driven by Anatoli the Awesome) came to the school to pick up me, my various feline and non-feline possessions and B. (B came along to help me carry things and to laugh at the absurdity of what I was doing.) We got to the airport at 3am only to learn that check in for my flight wouldn’t begin for another hour. This was actually fine, as it gave me plenty of time to take the cats (or more specifically, their paperwork) to the Veterinary Control desk in order to receive even more stamped government forms from someone who didn’t so much as look at the cats.

Meanwhile, I should definitely mention that the instant we hopped out of the car we were descended upon by a dude with a cart who charged an exorbitant fee for use of said cart ($50!) but with four cats, two suitcases and a backpack it seemed worth it. He also tried to convince me that my money was also paying for him to call his brother on the other side of the security check in who would make sure that I had no problems getting the cats checked in. I didn’t believe that for an instant. Cart Guy was actually quite helpful, until he put Gee through the x-ray machine. Ooops. But that comes later.

Kitties in Manas International Airport

While waiting to check in, the cats provided entertainment to numerous children who wanted nothing more than to poke their fingers into the carriers in an attempt to pet (er, poke) my cats. The kitties were surprisingly well-behaved and tolerant of all this nonsense.

In order to check in at Bishkek’s Manas Airport, first you must go through a narrow door, then through a security check. This means that as soon as check in for your flight begins, you and everyone else on that flight immediately must rush like mad for the narrow door, pushing and shoving at will. Yay, civilization. Cart Guy, Anatoli, B, and I forced our way to the front and got me and all my crap through the narrow door. That was when Cart Guy put Gee on the conveyer belt, which whisked her into the baggage x-ray machine before I could do anything to stop it. People began screaming at me (“You’re going to kill your pet!”) and I started shouting at Cart Guy while frantically pulling the other three carriers off the conveyer belt where he’d put them. Gee had already been scanned, but I had to take the other three out one at a time and carry them through the metal detector while their carriers were put through the x-ray.

Once the cats, my suitcases and I were through security, I got to explain to some very friendly customs guys why I was taking four breed-less street cats home with me. (I must’ve had at least 6 different people ask “But don’t you have street cats in America?”) The customs guys actually seemed quite impressed when I told them that the cats were my responsibility and I couldn’t just abandon them. Although perhaps they were more impressed with my ability to explain all that in Russian.

After customs examined all my cat paperwork I was finally able to check in. First I had to pay $401 in excess baggage fees, which I’d expected. Well, I’d expected $400, and while I had more with me, the smallest bill I had was a $50, and of course they didn’t have change. Luckily I had $1 worth of soms left, and they let me pay with those.

Then I was instructed to leave my three cats (the ones going in checked baggage) on the floor in front of a random-seeming elevator. I had to leave them sitting there, mewing pathetically, as Luball (the cat who came on the plane with me) and I went off in the other direction to go through yet another security check. I was quite worried that I would arrive in Atlanta 30+ hours later and Gee, Bee and Heelio would still be sitting in their carriers in front of that elevator door.

Luball was wonderful during the trip. She had to be taken out of her carrier at least six times and she never put up a fight or caused any problems. She was quite quiet during our journey, and managed to keep from peeing or pooping until we checked into a hotel room south of Atlanta. God knows how she achieved that feat; I sure didn’t!

Anyway, we arrived in Moscow 5 hours after leaving Bishkek, and we then spent seven and a half hours waiting around for our flight. So boring. I remember back when I used to think Moscow’s Sheremetevo was exotic… but after Bishkek’s Manas, Sheremetevo is boringly mundane.

Boredom in Sheremetevo

The flight to New York was 10 hours long, and we left 30 minutes late. Then, when we got to New York’s JFK, we sat on the runway for a good 45 minutes before we were able to disembark. My layover had been only two and a half hours long to begin with, and I was very worried that I wouldn’t make my connection. I ran through immigration and was one of the first people to claim their bags (both of which arrived). Then I asked where I could find my cats… and the woman in charge of baggage claim info told me the wrong place to go to! I was standing there, waiting for my cats to appear, watching my fellow passengers all leaving, fearing that Bee, Gee and Heelio were all still sitting in front of that elevator door in Manas, when I heard the distant sound of cats crying. I went in search, and found them on the other side of the room from where I’d been instructed to wait! They were overjoyed to see me, and I was thoroughly relieved to find them.

I stacked my cats and suitcases on top of a cart and wheeled them through customs – who didn’t even look at their paperwork! All that paperwork to get them out of Kyrgyzstan and to bring them in I apparently needed nothing. Weird.

I went to re-deposit my baggage on the other side of customs and was told that I’d actually have to go out to the Delta check-in counter to drop off the cats. At this point I had a mere 40 minutes. Let’s just say that there was a lot of frantic running around, and we barely made the plane.

In Atlanta, the cats were there, but only one of my suitcases. I didn’t really care; I knew the missing suitcase had made it as far as New York, and all I cared about was having the cats safe. I met my mom at baggage claim, and we drove to just south of Macon before stopping at a motel and collapsing from exhaustion. We got to The Small Southern Town Monday afternoon.

Heelio confronts Daddy Cat through the screen door

The cats seem to have had no problem adjusting to their new home, although the cats which already lived there are somewhat put out that these interlopers are snuggled up on what they consider to be *their* bed :-)

In which I get proposed to in a scary basement vet clinic

October 30, 2008

Today I had to take my kitty passports to various places in order to get the Bishkek Four approved for transport. My first destination was Orozbekova 253, way the hell north of town. I didn't know where exactly, just that it was north of town and a long way from the school. I took a taxi. The taxi driver had to stop and consult his map numerous times, but eventually he dropped me off at what looked like an old Russian-style wooden house, surrounded by a chain-link fence. The yard was filled with cars in various states of disrepair. It didn't look very much like the sort of place where one goes to get kitty passports validated!

There were several men in the yard taking a smoke break, so I approached them and explained what I needed. One of them told me to follow him, and began leading me downstairs to the basement of this ancient house. Not exactly the safest-feeling situation! However, it turned out that in the basement was a vet clinic, while the upstairs was some kind of vet school. The basement was dark (they had no electricity) and dank and reeked of chemicals. There was an ancient metal table with an IV at one end in the center of the room, and nothing else, and it looked like some kind of psychopath’s private torture chamber from a horror flick. Unlike my shiny, well-lit vet clinic on Sovietskaya, which is staffed by three jolly, rotund Russian women, this clinic was staffed by numerous skinny Kyrgyz men. The skinny Kyrgyz man who needed to validate my passport wasn't there when I arrived, so they asked me to sit down and wait. While I waited, I got to chat with one of the vets. He was very nice and suggested that I marry him so he could go to the US. I told him that I planned to continue traveling; he said that didn't matter, he loved to travel. But he likes rap music and doesn't like cats - it would never work. As I waited, a young man carried in a Rottweiler with something wrong with its leg. They tied it to the scary table in the middle of the room and began operating sans anesthetic. I snuck a photo.

Then the man I needed to see arrived. He looked over my kitty passports, stamped them and then completed several kitty-export-from-K-stan forms. He said it was a pity I was leaving so soon, or else he'd get to know me and then perhaps I could have a Kyrgyz husband, hint, hint. Apparently all the eligible bachelors hang out in the scary basement at Orozbekova 253!

But my day was not over. From Orozbekova 253 I had to travel to another out-of-the-way office: the State Veterinary Department, located at Budenosh 247, where the forms completed by the vet at Orozbekova had to be stamped by some other government official. He was really confused as to why I was taking mixed breed street cats home ("Surely there are street cats in America?"), but stamped all my paperwork nontheless.

As I wandered out of the State Veterinary Department, wondering how the hell I was going to find transport back to civilization, I heard a voice shout, "Annie! Hello!" and turned around to see Elmira, a student I taught for my first five months in K-stan, but whom I hadn't seen since. Apparently she lives across the street from the State Veterinary Department. I talked to her for a little while, and she helped me find the correct marshrutka to take me back to the London School.

Today's adventures were both mundane and absurd. And the kind of stuff that I'm going to miss when I'm back in the "real world." I leave on Sunday!!

In which B. breaks my door, and Kyrgyzstan nullifies my vote.

October 27, 2008

Since technically my contract runs through October 31st, I purchased my ticket home for November 2nd. B was promised my apartment upon my departure, as the school needed to turn his apartment into classrooms. Unfortunately, when I bought my ticket I hadn’t realized that the last day of “October” classes was actually October 24th and that “November” classes began on October 27th. This meant that they needed B to move out on October 25th… and of course they were confused as to why I’d bought my ticket for such a late date. Yay, Kyrgyz logic. Luckily, B and I are good friends, so we don’t mind sharing an apartment for one week. Of course, I had five cats and he had one, so there are now two people and six cats in my apartment. Madness!

Monday I decided that while everyone else was at work (haha! unemployment is great!) I’d take the four cats that I’m taking home to the vet so they could be examined in order for the vet to complete the paperwork needed for customs. I can only carry two cats at a time, and I had just lugged Luball and Heelio into the vet’s office when I received a panicked phone call from B: Minsk had escaped and while he was in the process of re-capturing her, somehow the door to our apartment had broken and he was unable to get back inside. He’d shoved Minsk into K’s apartment (K, btw, is a dog person) and they were both teaching while various people tried to break down the door to our apartment. He wanted me to come home ASAP so that I could prevent the other cats from escaping once the door was opened – and so that I could get Minsk out of K’s apartment.

I figured that as I was already at the vet, I might as well do what I’d gone there to do. I explained what I needed, and nearly laughed when I learned that I hadn’t had to bring the cats with me; she was perfectly willing to complete the paperwork stating that all four were healthy without examining any of them! Meanwhile, on Thursday I have to take that paperwork to two different government offices to have various officials stamp them, thus further “proving” that my cats are healthy. Yay, more Kyrgyz logic.

I practically ran back to the school (doing so while lugging fat-ass Heelio was a feat in and of itself), only to discover that the school had called a locksmith who wouldn’t be there for an hour or so. I snagged K’s keys and spent a good three hours with three cats hanging out in her apartment. I was just about to fall asleep when I was roused by the sound of a drill. I went downstairs to discover a woman jackhammering the concrete doorjamb with a power drill. She did eventually get in and switch the locks, but by then I’d completely wasted most of my day.

Tuesday I decided to go to the central post office to ship home the wooden saddle that I’d bought for my mom ages and ages ago. I also figured that would be as good a time as any to mail my absentee ballot. I dragged the saddle all the way downtown and had the woman in the post office give me a quote as to how much it would cost to ship – nearly $100. I’d paid $14 for the thing. Grrr. I went across the street to change money and came back to discover the postal woman debating with some man whether or not I should be allowed to ship this antique saddle out of the country. On the one hand, it might very well be an antique. On the other hand, I paid $14 for it, so it couldn’t be *that* valuable, now could it? I told them that and they decided that I had a pretty good point and agreed to allow me to ship it.

It took more than an hour for the woman to package up the saddle. First she made a custom sized box out of cardboard. After taping it up around the saddle, she then sewed a custom fit cloth sleeve for the box, which she then hand-stitched shut and sealed with wax. She told me how much I owed, and I asked how much it would be to send my envelope (containing my absentee ballot) as well. Her response? “The envelope is in the box with the saddle. They’re going to the same address, right?” In the box? Are you kidding me? It had taken so long to package the damn saddle that I wasn’t about to make her do it again (although from the look on her face, she wouldn’t have agreed to do it even if I’d insisted), but dammit! This makes three presidential elections in a row that I’ve effectively been disenfranchised, although this is the first time that it has been the fault of someone in a foreign government! Now I have to print off the Federal Emergency Absentee Ballot and hope that it counts.

Cats and hot chocolate!!

October 12, 2008

This morning B and I got up early (which for both of us is a feat in and of itself) to go to the International Exhibition of Cats put on at the Russian Drama Theater (of all venues) by the Bishkek Cat-lovers Association. I'm not a big fan of cat shows and pedigreed cats in general (why pay money for a cat when so many are available for free?), but I'm not going to turn down the opportunity to enjoy some fabulous feline cuteness. There was a rather absurd number of Hairless Sphinxes and Scottish Folds at the show, considering that it was a fairly small event. I wonder why those two particular breeds are so popular? Anyway, here are my cat show photos - enjoy the cuteness!!

This one was supposed to pass herself off as a princess, but kept gnawing on her collar.

Somebody is not happy.

Gah!

It's a Kitler!!

This one was my favorite. Most were in these over-decorated cages, but this one was just in a bare cage. Nonetheless, it was super-cute and full of personality.

I loved how this giant orange cat was cowering behind the little sphinx.

Allegedly this one’s a "Siberian" although I'd never heard of that as a breed of cat (other than the tiger) before!

After leaving the cat show, we met up with K at Cyclone, an Italian restaurant on Chuy near Beta Stores, which had the world's best hot chocolate. And they make a pretty damn tasty calzone as well.

Like a melted bar of fine dark chocolate.

Mmmmmm.

K and her hotchoc

B and his gargantuan and delicious calzone.