Thursday, July 18, 2013

Farewell, Kyrgyzstan

July 12, 2013

It was my last day in Bishkek and I decided it was time for some kind of reflection on the successes and travails my ten-month fellowship had brought me. I thought of a way I could list the positive and the negative aspects and Dave Letterman’s list of the “Top Ten Things” came to my mind.

So, I’ll start with the top ten things I’ll miss about Bishkek.

1.   The imposing views of the mountains
2.   The leafy streets and tree-lined promenades running for miles
3.   The ability to walk practically everywhere
4.   The fact that one can find almost anything needed within a block or two of one’s apartment
5.   The profusion of coffee houses and the fact that most of them offer some kind of outdoor sitting
6.   The inexpensive transportation system
7.   My very bright, airy and so well-positioned apartment
8.   The jungle-like courtyard in my apartment complex
9.   The freshly-baked flat bread, especially when baked with sesame seeds on top as the Uzbek people do
10.  Willoughby, Damira, Kate, Zarina and others who took the time to get to know me, and spent time showing me around the city

On the downside, here’s my list of the things I won’t miss at all:

1.   Encountering loogies (a large slimy glob of spit) on the steps to my building, the sidewalks and streets.
2.   Being unable to avoid the ever present smokers on the streets, restaurants, shops, and marshrutkas ad infinitum.
3.   Having to keep my eyes on the broken up sidewalks for fear of stumbling and falling.
4.   Feeling that as a pedestrian I’m worth as much as some mongrel dog and that Bishkek drivers actually enjoy trying to run me down even on the city’s sidewalks.
5.   Trying to maneuver the icy sidewalks and streets during the winter months.
6.   Running out of options at my most restaurants where meat reigns supreme and even a salad comes with meat in it.
7.   Having to ask for a knife at every restaurant.
8.   Repeatedly asking my server to make sure my latte is actually hot when it gets to my table.
9.   Finding out that my food has no seasonings of any kind, many times not even salt.
10.  Having to ask for coffee for breakfast when the hotel/guest house simply assumes all their guest will drink tea
As I wrote for final report for Georgetown University, I know I’ve grown professionally from all the different activities my position has required me to perform. I feel much more comfortable as a speaker addressing a large audience and know more intimately the challenges teachers here face when in the classroom.

Even when racism has reared its ugly head, I have been able to put aside my own feelings of frustration and rage to proceed with what was expected of me in a professional manner. I do not forgive those who engage in this practice, but have vowed to behave in a civil manner whenever possible.

Many people have asked me if I would want to return to Central Asia in any other capacity, perhaps as a college professor enjoying a pretty good salary here. I don’t believe so as the climate is quite harsh and the food simply not up to my standards. There were days when I simply didn’t want to cook and found very few options, if any, of places I wanted to go out to for a meal.

I found Kyrgyz people in general to be rather reticent about their lives. In the many months I was here, no one ever invited me to a family celebration except for Zarina’s wedding last October. Despite many promises of future invitations to dinners and summer homes, these invitations never materialized. I really feel that I didn’t get to know any of them really well.

The reverse side of that was that I also felt that they were not curious about me at all. While living in Tajikistan, people wanted to know everything about my life in the States and insisted on seeing photos of my house, my car, and my family. No one here has ever asked about my family photos.

I have to say that Kyrgyzstan is not a place I would ever consider returning to because I have left such great friends behind. End of story.

July 11

July 11, 2013

Sleeping late wasn’t an option on the big day. I got up as soon as light crept over the sky and then a feeling of emptiness overtook me when I contemplated the fact that I had no laptop to sit at or Internet access to keep in touch with anyone.

I made coffee for the last time and after drinking it, cleaned the coffeemaker since it’d be going to Willoughby that same day. I had set aside the suitcase that would be going to the Peace Corps office with most of my winter clothes and other things. Luann had given me a great idea for the remaining spices and staples on my cabinets as she’d suggested I put them in a bag and take them to the volunteers for them to choose whatever they wanted.

Willoughby showed up at noon and we proceeded to bring all the packages and the suitcase downstairs and then I went in search of a taxi driver. I saw a newish mini-van parked in front and got the driver to come around to the front of the building where we loaded the suitcase and bags immediately.

We made it to the Peace Corps offices where we dropped the suitcase in one place and the collection of book club books in another. Their resource room was definitely minuscule compared to what we used to have at the Peace Corps compound in Kathmandu.

The taxi driver had waited for us and then took us to Willoughby’s flat where I brought in the printer and the other bags before we went to the store to buy a beer and drink it in her kitchen. We agreed to meet at six to have dinner at the French restaurant Ratatouille which had been highly recommended.

Damira had called before to pinpoint the time I’d be returning home for she wanted to see me before my departure. She was downstairs waiting when I got in and we sat in the living room talking for a bit. She was observing Ramadan and thus turned down my offer for something to drink or eat. She even told me that hugging or kissing between sunrise and sunset was forbidden.

I had forgotten to charge my cell phone the day before and now found myself with no charger of any kind and only a bar or two. Damira offered to ask one of my neighbors for a charger since Nokia was such a popular brand in the country. She went out and returned with one letting me know I needed to return it to its rightful owner by 9:00 pm.

Damira said goodbye admonishing me one more time to find god in any religion of my choice. I tried to hug her, but she reminded me about Ramadan once again. I walked downstairs with her so she could pinpoint the apartment where I needed to return the charger and then bid her goodbye as her brother-in-law was giving her a ride home.

I took a quick shower, ironed one of my Tajik outfits and got ready for Willoughby’s arrival. We rode the #13 marshrutka and then walked three blocks to the restaurant which was located on the first floor of the Europa Hotel on a street I’d never walked on. We chose to sit out on the terrace facing the main drag.

Prices were outrageous and I wasn’t really hungry, so I settled for a portion of a salmon quiche and a green salad. Willoughby ordered roasted duck and mashed potatoes. Portions were minuscule and my quiche was evidently not something made locally, but had been heated in the microwave for too long. It had no flavor or seasonings of any kind, so I had to leave it on the side and only ate my salad. I paid over $10.00 for this privilege while watching lots of other ex-pats stroll in and out of the place.

We walked together to where Willoughby would catch her marshrutka and we hugged tightly as we said goodbye. I walked two more blocks and got into another one to take me home. I had arranged to have the same taxi driver pick me up at 10:00 pm to take me to the airport since Diana had arranged to pick up the key to the flat at that time instead of 11:00. I walked the flat from one end to another one more time making sure everything was clean, in its place and presentable.

At nine, I went downstairs to take the garbage out one last time and to return the charger to my neighbors, but no one answered the door. When I went back a second time, I found the neighbors still absent, but the taxi driver already parked at the door waiting for me.

I started to bring down my bags, which made quite a racket on the stairs, thus prompting the cleaning lady to come out of her flat to snoop on the matter. She came downstairs asking me questions about my landlady when she knew full well that I didn’t speak Russian and couldn’t answer any of them.

I waited for Diana from 10:00 to 10:30 pm and she didn’t show up. I couldn’t locate my cell phone and was thus unable to call her. I didn’t occur to me to have the taxi driver call me to see if I could hear my phone then. When half an hour elapsed and there was no sign of her, I gave the taxi driver the signal to leave and left the key with the cleaning woman along with the charger.

We were already on the highway to the airport when Diana called. I now realized my cell phone had been on the outside pocket of my handbag and I answered it to let her know that the key had been left with the woman in unit #29. Diana didn’t apologize for being late, on the contrary, she argued I had mentioned I wanted to leave for the airport as late as possible.

I countered by saying she had given me a specific time and I needed to arrange for a taxi to get me to the airport. She wanted to know where the money was for the utility bills was, which I had had at hand while waiting for her, about $35.00, but didn’t feel comfortable leaving the money with someone I didn’t know at all.

I told her I’d try to get a friend to get the money to her, but then realized Willoughby would be too busy with her own trip to take out time to deal with this issue. I’d have no way of reimbursing anybody else who could pay the debt for me either. After giving it some thought, I decided that I had fulfilled my side of the bargain and shouldn’t feel guilty if the landlady and her friend hadn’t done their part.

When I got to the airport, there was no one outside that could carry my bags for me. In fact, there was nobody around at all. The taxi driver was gracious enough to go and find me a cart and I had to pile the suitcases on it myself. There was a stupid grate before reaching the building and the wheels got stuck in it causing my smaller bag to go flying in air I and then falling to the ground.

Some spectators on the second floor had seen my struggle and motioned for me to move the cart sideways to be able to maneuver around the grate. I made it through security and asked if there was an elevator to the second floor where the Turkish Airlines counter was. They said yes, but my question must not have been understood as there were no elevators, just  an escalator. Thankfully, two young guys came by and offered to help me get my bags upstairs cart and all.

It was only 11:00 pm when I settled down in front of gate #3 and started the long wait for my 3:55 am flight. I ate the half shawarma sandwich I had left before it got entirely cold and got engrossed in the reading of my latest book pick, “The Book Thief”. 

July 10

July 10, 2013

As I had suspected, my Internet funds had run out in the middle of the night, and the available connections in the area featured a security code. Luann had called twice after I’d gone to bed to say she wanted to meet later than we’d previously agreed. That was fine with me and I sent her a SMS to confirm.

Willoughby called very early in the morning to ascertain what my plans were for my two remaining days in Bishkek. I had thought about suggesting dinner on Thursday night to cap my experience here and was willing to pull out all the stops and go that fancy French restaurant, Ratatouille. Willoughby agreed wholeheartedly.

I had some flat bread, cubes of cheese and hot chocolate for breakfast while watching a documentary on the history of Ireland. What a bloody mess that place has been with thousands of lives being lost just because a group belonging to one religion, Catholic, Anglican, or Protestant, wanted to dominate the other.

I then sent a text message to Rasur to determine the most convenient time for him to pick up the laptop, and another to Gulnara for her to come by with the Forum stamp for the two documents she’d signed for me. Neither one answered right away.

I still had a mountain of scrap paper that I had accumulated from all my presentations and conferences attended. I decided on the spur of the moment to jump on a marshrutka and take it to the Osh bazaar so that the spice vendors could use them to make their paper cones to dispense their wares. It was tricky to hang on to the papers while maneuvering the mini-van, but I made it and offered it to first vendor I encountered.

He turned it down as apparently he thought I wanted money for it. I walked a few steps away and an older Russian-looking woman asked to see the pile of papers. I made it clear I just wanted to give it away and when she agreed to the deal, I placed the entire pile on the floor next to her stall.

I rode the marshrutka up to where the Carlson Wagonlit travel agency was located to ask them for information on how to pay for the excess baggage. Larissa confirmed I’d be asked to pay $6.00 per kilo and would have to pay cash only.

I rode another marshrutka back to the flat, but got off at the corner of Manas and Bokumkaiva so I could buy a shawarma sandwich, a plate of plov and some salad for lunch. Gulnara from Forum called as I was about to get off to let me know she was already waiting at the flat to place the stamp on the documents and pick up some things for Forum.

I asked her to give ten minutes, picked up my food and then hustled to meet Gulnara. I brought out the two documents in need of the Forum’s stamp and then gave her the green and black tea, sugar, and napkins I had left over from the open house party. She saw the bottle of sunflower oil, barely used, and asked me for it. I prepared a bag and gave it all to her.

Once she was gone, I had the plov and a salad of marinated mushrooms before preparing to meet Luann for coffee. I had suggested we visit the Manas Village that Elvira had mentioned to me and which we had passed on the way back from the Ala Archa State Park, and Luann readily agreed to do so. I walked to the 135 Coffee House and waited in the open terrace for her.

Fortunately, they offered Wi-Fi and I was able to get access to my mail. I had a message from the ELF program indicating my application was incomplete and I needed to contact them to set up a time for an interview since the one on file was already too old.

The skies had turned black and the wind was beginning to pick up. I hated the idea of missing out on visiting the village since I’d not have another chance to do so. Luann recommended ordering the hot chocolate that looked and tasted more like a chocolate pudding. At 220 som, or almost $5.00, I was hoping for something delicious and it was worth every som

Natalia called while I was having my chocolate and inquired as to my schedule for the next day as she still wanted to meet with me before my departure. I mentioned my commitment to Willoughby, both morning and evening, and she said she’d try to squeeze in sometime to see me. It had started to sprinkle as we left the café.

Luann and I got on the #266 marshrutka and the driver signaled to us when we got to the village. Except for the sign at the corner of Manas, we found no directions for the place and had to ask two other people before confirming that we just needed to walk down a bit to get to it. The cashier’s booth was empty, but two security guards sat to the right and asked for 20 som for us to get in.

The village in question was supposed to recreate the Manas epic so revered in Kyrgyzstan, but I couldn’t make heads or tails out of the many different structures. If there was some symbolism attached to each one, we couldn’t tell since there were no signs of any kind in any language whatsoever. We took tons of photos and even got into the yurt at the end where every day items were on display.

The woman tending to the yurt beckoned us to put on the traditional velvet coat and headdress and to have our picture taken at different angles inside the yurt. Although I normally shrink from doing the “touristy” thing, I caved in this one time and had my photo taken several times.

Back outside, the rain had subsided and we took some more photos before proceeding next door to the other attraction I’d seen from the road: Flamingo Park, but not before walking in front of the Issyk-Kul Hotel, which appeared to be completely abandoned as weed had invaded the front entrance completely.

Flamingo Park was a kitschy take on Disneyland or Disney World that had fallen in disrepair with concrete chunks missing, rusting sculptures and green areas full of weeds. We immediately labeled it “The Poor Man’s Disney” and marveled at the many knockoffs of familiar Disney characters adorning the place. We paid 40 som just for the privilege of getting in and taking photos.

I had to plead with Luann to leave by 7:00 as Rasur was coming by to pick up the laptop he’d bought from me. We had to wait for a long while before getting into a marshrutka and got home at exactly five minutes to eight. Rasur was waiting downstairs, so I proceeded to pack up the laptop for him.

Luann had begged me to accompany her to a pop quiz, or trivial pursuit game, that night where Rebecca, David and Amada would be present. I was very hungry and wanted to do one more load of laundry before finishing my packing, so staying home was the logical thing to do.

Luann had been such a pleasure to spend the afternoon with that I decided to cave in and accompany her after I had finished the leftovers from my lunch. We walked to the Dragon’s Pub off Frunze Avenue and found the group sitting outside and already in the middle of the quiz. I was able to contribute to the answers on at least four occasions and our group ended up winning the contest, the first time ever they’d done so.

At ten o’clock, I was falling asleep and bid everyone goodbye for good after Luann took a couple of photos for the record. I walked back to my place feeling the pain on my legs from the walking I’d done Sunday at the park and all day today.

July 9

July 9, 2013

I had a pretty good night of sleep before getting up close to six. The sun was still hiding behind one of the high rises beyond my window thus giving me a chance to make my coffee without contending with its scorching rays.

Zarina had replied confirming that Turkish Airlines would only allow me 38 kilos and any excess would be charged at $6.00 a kilo. It was time to reevaluate my cargo for sure. I went through the collection of laminated pictures I’ve accumulated between Tajikistan and Kyrgyzstan, and which Willoughby had offered to relieve of, and discarded several that were not exactly scintillating. The remaining ones still weigh a ton.

I also decided to get of my T-shirts since they could be easily replaced in the States along with the small travel towel Caroline had given me when leaving Tajikistan. I went through my toiletries and let go of some other items, sun block among them, to lighten my load. I tested my shoulder bag to see if I could carry the pictures there and it seemed to hold firm. I’ll have to wait and see how it feels once I have the tablet in there, my drinking cup and other essentials.

I walked to the dental clinic and had no trouble finding it this time. In fact, I was too early and the staff could be seeing finishing their lunch in an adjacent room. One of the employees handed me a clipboard with a two-page form to complete, just like we do in the States. The waiting room was spacious, very clean and even had magazines in English to read.

The young dental hygienist spoke very little English, so the actual dentist, Gulzat, came by to introduce herself and to take a look before the cleaning started. I guessed she must not have found anything horrifying as she wanted to proceed with the cleaning right away. I asked for some anesthesia due to my extremely high sensitivity to the scaler.

I barely felt a pinch when she proceeded to do so and had no discomfort whatsoever during the entire procedure. The hygienist would ask me often if I was all right and I would nod yes. In less than an hour’s time, I was done polishing and all. The clinic charged an extra $10.00 for the anesthetic and I happily paid the $90.00 bill.

Pollen, construction dust, cigarette smoke or whatever was in the air just got to me and I went home sneezing all the way. I stopped at the convenience store for water, milk, and take-out for dinner. I’m going to miss that place, for sure.

Although today was the beginning of the Ramadan holiday, I could see no evidence of it anywhere. Some people had said that since the majority of Kyrgyz are non-observant Muslims, there might not be much fasting taking place here. By the look of the men smoking around me, I’d have to say none.

Monday, July 8, 2013

July 8

July 8, 2013

It was a rather uneventful day except for the fact that my landlady’s brother knocked on my door around 9:00 am, and I refused to open it since I didn’t really remember what he looked like and he doesn’t speak English at all. I had received no notice that he needed access to the apartment.

Later on, Diana called me to let me you there was a potential renter interested in seeing the flat in the early afternoon, so I told her it would be no problem at all as I planned to be at home all day.

I then had no choice, but to set out to clean the place so it would look spotless. The kitchen and the bathroom took forever and I tidied up the furniture so that this burly African-American guy could blow into the space and be gone in less than five minutes.

He was from Atlanta, GA, and I knew immediately he’d be one of those guys with little education who’d gotten a job with one of those subcontractors at the Manas Transit Center which are making millions while supplying the troops in Afghanistan with everything they need to continue that futile war.

He was accompanied by a striking Kyrgyz woman who didn’t bother looking at the place but sat in the living room fanning herself with a look of exasperation on her face. She claimed to be a friend of the guy and was only helping him find a suitable place to live. She wanted to know how much I paid and if there was an A/C unit.

The guy took some notes, made no comments on the place whatsoever and left saying he had another four places to look at that afternoon before making a decision. I got the impression he wasn’t really interested in the apartment.

I called the dental clinic and rescheduled my cleaning for Tuesday at 2:30 pm. Luann confirmed we would be having coffee on Wednesday at 12:15 at the 135 Coffee place near my flat.

I sent the last highlight report to the embassy and got a note back from Natalia thanking me for the great job I had done in Kyrgyzstan. Johanna wrote approving the final expense report, which I promptly forwarded to Gen at Georgetown.

I uploaded the photos taken at the Ala Archa State Park and finished my final report for Georgetown. I think I did get everything in this time around. I only need to attach some photos, and voila, I’ll be done.

Sunday, July 7, 2013

July 7

July 7, 2013

I had set the alarm just in case as I needed to be at the agreed-on spot for the trek at 8:30 am. I was up before six anyway and busied myself right away getting to the intersection at exactly 8:15. Willoughby was sitting at the bus stop knitting away.

After greeting her, I went into the Narodni nearby and bought some staples to take with me for what was expected to be a picnic and for which , we were going to share our purchases. Amanda came by next and we went in search of fresh flat bread to bring along, which we found after walking here and there.

Rebecca and Daniel rounded out the group since Luann had bailed out after learning that the entire cost of the outing would be around 600 soms. When a newish SUV taxi pulled up in front of us to discharge some passengers, Amanda and I agreed we should approach the driver to see if he was interested in taking us to the Alar Cha Park and then returning to pick us up.

The driver was game, so we piled up inside and drove past the cemetery I had visited last Sunday with Kate and then into a beautiful part of the city where the mountains started their steep climb and a river ran furiously down the hill. We started to see families out picnicking by the side of the river and lots of cars heading in the same direction as we were.

We had to paid an admission fee of 650 soms, for the whole group, so the driver could continue beyond the entrance gate. He dropped us off in front of hotel/tea house and we agreed to call him two hours before we wanted to be picked up. Rebecca, Amanda and David wanted to attempt one of the longer trails while Willoughby and I just wanted to wander around for a bit.

                                 Clouds gathering at the entrance to the Alar Cha Park

We only had about half hour of sunshine before the clouds came, the temperatures dropped precipitously and then the drizzle started. Willoughby and I took refuge at a nearby tea house, somebody’s house with a couple of tables with an umbrella on their dirt front yard. We ordered tea and had some of our cheese, bread and crackers while listening to the thunder in the distance.

                              The rudimentary tea house where we stopped for a rest

Rebecca called about hour an later to inform us it had started to rain very hard where they were, so they wanted to call the driver and head back out. I was delighted by the news since I never wanted to spend the entire day there anyway. I had worn no socks and the frilly shawl I’d taken with me provided no heat whatsoever, so my hands were freezing as well.

                                       This cutie appeared to be the owner's granddaughter

Willoughby and I managed to make it down to the guesthouse by the entrance before the rain started again in earnest. We ordered another pot of tea and inquired about the room prices which ranged from $100.00 to 200.00. She has a girlfriend coming to visit from Germany and thought this might be a good place to stay at during a visit to the park.

Once the group reunited, Amanda notified us the driver was already outside waiting. I fell asleep at some point during the ride but woke up before getting to the main road just as we were passing the president’s house, a structure that took up about two city books and was surrounded by a formidable fence and a small army of soldiers.

We each ended up paying 550 soms, or $12.00, for the outing. Luann was right in considering the cost of the trip prohibitively expense for the local population and that was why we saw mostly foreigners coming and going.  I said goodbye to everyone and hopped on the trolley to get home where I took a long nap on the sofa.

Willoughby called to let me know she’d taken a look at my final report and didn’t consider its tone to be too harsh or whinny. On the other hand, she felt I was being too modest in listing my achievements and made some specific recommendations to remedy that. How gracious of her!

Damira called to say she’d come by at 5:30 to take me to her house for dinner. I had prepared a gift bag with a few things to take to her family, but when she showed up, she made it clear we were going to a restaurant, a classy one, but a restaurant nonetheless. I protested vehemently, as I knew her salary is very low, and caved in only when I insisted on paying for my own meal.

We walked to the same Kyrgyz restaurant, Tubeteika,  I’d had lunch with Jennifer and Natalia the last time Jennifer came for a visit and stayed at my flat. We had sat outside, so I hadn’t seen the inside of it. The place looked almost palatial with an open air feeling, lots of glittering lamps, sofas and artwork.

Two men were playing music in front of what looked like a dancing floor. We occupied a booth nearby, and I found the music to be too loud to be able to hold a conversation, but the waiter wouldn’t hear of asking for the volume to be turned down a bit. He argued that diners at the far end wouldn’t be able to hear the music then.

The food was unremarkable: a tiny green salad with only two pieces of lettuce, so just tomatoes and cucumbers, salmon for me with an insipid caper sauce and fried goat meat and potatoes for Damira.

When it came time to pay, she refused accept my 500 som note arguing she’d invited me this time. She’d left her cell phone at my house and had to walk back with me to get it. Evidently, she was on her way to a date as she had ten missed calls when she got her hands on it and then told he was already outside waiting for her.

At the end, I found out that Damira, her sister, brother-in-law and her niece are not living in a flat as she’d said before, but are building what will eventually be a three bedroom house in the outskirts of town. Just as in Zarina’s case, right now they only have one bedroom that doubles as a living room, a bathroom, hallway and kitchen.

She’d felt too embarrassed to take me to this place because they are basically piled one on top of another. I protested telling her I really wanted to see how Kyrgyz people lived, but she wasn’t persuaded. Oh, that Asian face-saving characteristic reared its ugly head once again.

July 6

July 6, 2013

I had quite a hectic day starting with my attempt to finish packing the second suitcase to see how much room I’d have in my carrying-on bag. It was all bad news for I couldn’t fit in everything I had accumulated plus present I’ve received and the ones I’ve bought.

It then occurred to me to find out how much the Turkish Airlines might charge for excess baggage, but what I found through Google was a complicated table that required I specify the zone and airport I was flying to and from so that the site could give me the appropriate amount. It didn’t make any sense since I’ll be flying into four different airports anyway.

Zarina called early on to say she wanted to come by to have a chance for a proper goodbye. Since I was expecting Gulnara from Forum to come by as well to finally pick up the boxes of materials, I told her to drop by whenever she could and then I could have her call the Turkish Airlines for specific guidelines on my luggage.

Rebecca sent a text message indicating we were to meet her at a German-style restaurant near her house, we agreed to meet in front of her apartment at 6:30 and walk from there. I forwarded the message to both Willoughby and Luann, who both confirmed their attendance.

Zarina came bearing two pieces of pastry from Vanilla Sky and another present, a wall clock with images of Kyrgyzstan in the background. She indicated she wanted to give me something I could look at all the time and think of her. I have no idea how I’m going to pack this gift.

We were able to sit down to a cup of coffee and the pastries, talk about many topics and for me to give her some additional teaching materials as well. She took the two dozen hangers I’d bought for the apartment, the calendar I’d no longer use and some fridge magnets, too.

Willoughby came along and after chitchatting with Zarina, the three of us left the flat so we could proceed to our respective destinations. Zarina indicated a desire to see me one more time before my departure, but I wasn’t so sure there’d be a chance for that.

The marshrutka dropped us off near Rebecca’s place and we waited at the corner for Luann and the birthday girl to meet us. Rebecca came accompanied by her boyfriend, Sasha, whom I hadn’t met before, and she was wearing the pair of earrings I’d brought her from Kathmandu last year.

We then walked to a German/Russian restaurant where we sat in a courtyard at what looked like picnic tables. I ordered a pair of German sausages, grilled, and a salad along with carbonated water. When they came, the sausages hadn’t been grilled, but fried and the salad contain bits of tough beef pieces in it. No flat bread was available.

I learned that to make a toast, Russians first have to order what they call a “chaser”, in this case, salted fish with sliced onions and boiled potatoes. David and Daniel had joined us by then and the round of toasts started getting a bit old as everyone of us had to offer a toast to Rebecca that would sound somewhat different.

There were no mosquitoes out, that was quite a relief, and the conversation was animated. Most of the group members were planning on going to the Alar Cha trek the next morning, so we discussed the logistics and agreed on a place and time to meet. I shared a taxi with David to go back to my flat.

Friday, July 5, 2013

July 5

July 5, 2013

Up at the crack of dawn again determined to start the packing process in earnest. Had my cup of coffee, answered emails and reviewed Facebook postings before having the last of the flat bread, some pieces of cheese and hot chocolate for breakfast.

According to the website provided by Georgetown University, Turkish Airlines accepts one carry-on bag(up to 22 lbs.) and two suitcases not exceeding 50 lbs. each for each traveler. It seems exceedingly generous to me and I wouldn’t be surprised if I find out at the airport that those guidelines might have changed.

In any event, I got one bag completely packed and it weighed 22 kilos or 48.4 pounds. Not too bad considering it contained most of my shoes and some of the presents I was given at the end of some of the seminars I offered here.

It was time to head to the Peking Duck restaurant to meet with Gulnara from lingua for a farewell meal. I stood at the corner where we agreed to meet doing a bit of people watching as she was running late. Women were going by decked out in outrageous colors and flowing dresses that went down to their ankles. It was such a contrast to the drab clothes they wore all winter.

Once at the restaurant, we both offered the fish dish with vegetables I had always liked when Lingua catered meals from this restaurant and I requested mine very spicy. We both ordered a beer, non-alcoholic for Gulnara who needed to be present at two meetings that afternoon, and a regular one for. My Baltika 7 came in with the now ubiquitous straw inside.

Our conversation geared toward my future plans, none specific yet, the feedback received from the CATEC participants, lots of complains about the food, past fellows at Lingua and, of course, Forum and its machinations insofar as the election of a new president was concerned.

The luncheon was much more congenial than I could possibly imagine since we never veered into what could have been but never was field. At the end, Gulnara insisted on going next door to a souvenir shop to buy me a present in the name of Lingua. We chose a light purple scarf and matching felt earring for me and then said goodbye.

Her driver approached me to say goodbye and wanted to drop me off at home, but I had agreed to meet Willoughby at Sierra Coffee nearby. I found her at one corner doing her knitting as usual. After chitchatting for a bit, we made our way back to my flat so she could conduct an inventory of those things she wanted from my apartment before we placed the rest in the suitcase for the Peace Corps volunteers.

We agreed on Willoughby coming by next Thursday after her foot laser treatment and then hopping on a taxi to deliver the suitcase to the Peace Corps compound to then head to her apartment with the things she’s keeping such as the coffeemaker, coffee grinder and assorted grocery items.

I called Gulnara from Forum once again to ask about the photos I need to complete my report for the embassy and to determine when she’d come by to pick up the two boxes of books and miscellaneous things I’m donating to the association. She claimed to have trouble finding the specific photos, but would try again that evening when she got home.

She also promised to come by tomorrow around three with someone who has a car to help transport the boxes to the Chinese Institute where Forum has an office, or something that looks more like a storage room anyway.

Thursday, July 4, 2013

July 4

July 4, 2013

Diana had agreed to come by before nine in the morning to pick the rent payment in lieu of my landlady who was leading a group of trekkers into the mountains at this time. When she didn’t show up, I called her and rearranged the time to around noon.

The weather felt a bit cooler when I stepped outside my building. I stopped at the ATM to withdraw what I hoped would be my last cash one, so I could pay the dentist the $80.00 he’d be charging for a dental cleaning. I had goggled the clinic and it placed it  right across the International University, a place I knew very well.

I walked up and down the street, but was unable to find a sign for the clinic. I called the place and the receptionist, who spoke little English, said someone would call me back. We went back and forth several times, but no one could explain how I could go from the university to their clinic. I got fed up and went back home.

Diana came by and collected the $220.00 I had to pay to stay at the apartment until late Thursday the 11th. When I mentioned my dilemma about not wanting to go to the airport too early in the evening, Diana said the person entrusted to collect the keys and the payment for the utility bills lived right around the corner and could come as late as 11:00 pm if I wanted to. We agreed on that time for sure. What a relief!

I spent the rest of the afternoon working on my expense report engaging in the tedious task of scanning every single receipt, in case of loss of its original, completing an explanation sheet for each, and attaching the original to it. I had a chance to go through all the paperwork on my desk and discarded what I no longer needed.

Willoughby called to say she’d come from the picnic at the U.S. Embassy, which had been pretty much a rerun of the previous day’s affair with the same band playing music and the food being served cold. She mentioned the Peace Corps volunteer constituted the largest contingent as they’d come from all over the country just for the celebration.

I told her about Rebecca calling to set up a dinner date for Saturday night to celebrate her birthday. I had called Damira, who’d invited me to her house on the same night, to postpone it for Sunday and she had been OK with doing so. Willoughby agreed to go as well. I sent Luann a text message to see if she wanted to join us for the celebration, too.

Amanda and David had also been present, and Amanda reiterated her plans to visit the Alar Cha forest on Sunday for a good hike. I sent her a message through FB to see what the arrangements would be in terms of place and time where to meet before the departure for the park.

Wednesday, July 3, 2013

July 3

July 3, 2013

When daylight starts streaming through my bedroom window now, before five in the morning, I have no choice but to get up as sleep simply eludes me. Having an ever-growing list of things to do before my departure doesn’t help any. Laira sent me an SMS indicating she’d be coming by after her Zumba class across the street. I busied myself downloading last year’s expense report to model the format for the one this year and save myself some time.

When Laira came in, she turned down my offer of coffee and requested water instead. She mentioned she was leaving next week as well to spend the summer in the Dominican Republic with her family. When I mentioned my departure date was Friday the 12th, she double checked her itinerary on her smart phone and found out we’ll be on the same flight out of Bishkek.

I risked asking her if I could spend the few hours of the evening at her house before heading to the airport as I needed to return the key to the apartment at a reasonable time on Thursday the 11th. She first protested saying they’d be no room in the SUV for me because of her two girls and all the luggage. I told her I could afford to pay for my own taxi.

In essence, without saying “no” to my face, she tried to convince me it’d be better if I worked with my landlady to try and stay here as late as possible so I could get some rest before the ride to the airport. That was a brutal and extremely humiliating experience. And to think I still have a possible encounter at the airport and the possibility of sitting very close to her family for the five hour flight to Istanbul.

I prepared another one of my Tajik outfits to go to the reception at the U.S. Embassy as the dress code called for a national dress or business suit, and it was too hot to consider wearing my pantsuit. I had enough time to go to the currency exchange place and get enough soms to settle my debt with Willoughby.

I engaged the services of a taxi driver who’d been sitting in front of my building. He spoke no English at all and I almost no Russian, but I managed to tell him to go straight on Manas and he thought I was going to either the Turkish Manas University or the Bishkek Humanities one, but I said to continue straight.

I could see the long line of cars pulling into the embassy’s compound, but taxis weren’t allowed in, so I was dropped off at the curb and had to walk the rest of the way. Natalia had said I’d need my passport to get in, but in fact the invitation card itself contained a code that could be scanned thus making it unnecessary to show ID. That was a first. Going through the X-ray machine, my camera was detected and immediately confiscated. It really made no sense since a lot of people were taking photos throughout the event using their smart phones anyway.

I got on the receiving line and at the end of it was the ambassador herself, Pamela Spratlen, whom to this day no one had bothered to introduce me to. There must be an unwritten rule somewhere in the Foreign Service mentality that believes fellows must carry some kind of contagion and must be kept away from the ambassador.

I had already being in her presence several times, but had never shaken her hand. I got to do so this day, but I’m sure she still has no idea as who I’m and my purpose for being in Kyrgyzstan. The event was been held outdoor and several tents had been assembled for food and drinks with small tables to accommodate those items but no chairs.

Natalia was standing nearby and came to greet me. She took me to the group where Bill, from the Peace Corps, and both Gulnaras were standing. I then turned around and found Elvira nearby, one of the pre-service teachers and Anna and Natasha as well. I still don’t understand why Peace Corps volunteers weren’t invited to this event.

Anna and Natasha commented on my Tajik dress and wanted to know why I hadn’t chosen a Kyrgyz one. The point seemed like a moot one to me since neither one of them was wearing anything remotely Kyrgyz, but I politely told them I had found no dresses in cotton or linen suitable for the summer with the Kyrgyz designs in it.

They both claimed I could go to Tsum and find some as well as the Orto Sai bazaar, where I had already been and found nothing of interest. I promised to look into the matter even though I only had a week to go before my departure. Anna expressed surprise as the immediacy of my leave and for the first time asked what state I’d be going back to.

I ran into David, the guy doing research for his doctorate that Rebecca had brought to the last book club, and I introduced him to them, and later on to Bill, the PC guy. I hardly recognized David at all as he had cut his hair and was a bit dressed up although he wore jeans, a no-no for a diplomatic reception. He told me Rebecca wasn't around as she was working in Issyk-Kul.

At 7:00 pm, the marines started their march toward the stage, the entrance steps to the embassy, then the ambassador welcomed everyone and had an older guy decked out in a Kyrgyz outfit sing the Kyrgyz national anthem, which I had never heard before. He had a melodious voice and sang beautifully, so at one point many of the locals started to sing along with him, something we’d normally never do. The American anthem followed sang by a stout African-American woman.

It was time to give the usual political speeches about our independence, democracy and cooperation between nations. The ambassador could speak quite a few phrases in Kyrgyz, which really impressed me, but had an interpreter who repeated everything in Russian. A Kyrgyz minister then addressed the crowd in both Russian and English.

When the speeches were done, food was brought out, and everything was cold: mini burgers, hot dogs, cheese wrapped in dough and chicken wings along with an array of condiments. A fruit platter and a vegetable one rounded out the offerings. I had picked up a glass of beer earlier, but didn’t find it to my liking. Coca-Cola had apparently sponsored the event and their soda was the only alternative drink, so drank nothing with my meal.

I passed on the hot dogs, but got a mini burger, some condiments and a couple of chicken wings. I repaired to one of the tables where the two women spoke only Kyrgyz apparently. Anna and Natasha joined me later and we chitchatted about the picnic scheduled for the same location tomorrow as I wondered if a grill would be available or if they’d be catering everything like today.

Anna thought I should return to the embassy to find out, but I told her I had no interest in being out there in the sun for the simple purpose of getting a hamburger and would be going to the dentist instead. She wanted to know the location of the dental clinic and when I said it was near my house, she shot back she didn’t know where I lived. I wondered why that was the case.

The two Kyrgyz women had left their trash behind, so I took their plates to the trash can and found an American couple now talking to Anna and Natasha. It gave me the perfect gateway to leave as I told them that they were in good hands now.

Once outside the compound, one of the security guards told me to walk to the next intersection if I needed a taxi. I did so and instead of a taxi, a marshrutka came by, so I and a man who had been standing there as well got on with me. This marshrutka didn’t pick any other passengers and then its driver informed us he was done for the day.

I had to take another marshrutka home, but it certainly beat the 200 soms I’d paid for the taxi ride going in.

Tuesday, July 2, 2013

July 2

July 2, 2013

Unable to sleep again as I try to keep track of all other tasks left undone, I got up before five to continue working on my final report, which needs to be a minimum of ten pages in length.

Laira had promised to come for coffee at ten, so I cooked a sort of ratatouille adding the carrots, onions, garlic, eggplant, cabbage and peppers I had at hand. The kitchen turned into a steaming sauna before I was done. I did the dishes and set aside the heavy pot, cutting board and salt and pepper shaker I was going to take to Zarina.

Laira later texted to say one of her daughters was running a fever and she wouldn’t be able to come after all. I did a couple loads of laundry and could finally close up the kitchen and turn on the A/C unit to cool off the flat.

Natalia called to ask if I had retrieved the embassy’s invitation to a reception to celebrate Independence Day tomorrow. I notified her I had just learned about it and would pick it up late in the afternoon. She felt it was important that I be present for this event as I was considered a member of “the family”. I said I’d try to make it as it’d be held across the street from the embassy’s compound and hopefully getting in wouldn’t be an ordeal.

Called the dental clinic and got an appointment for Thursday morning to get my teeth cleaned. Damira called to say she was in the area and wanted to come in earlier than we had agreed to. She had lunch with me, viewed the photos from the CATEC gathering and was convinced to open up a profile page on Couch Surfing so she could have a chance to meet with other foreigners to continue to practice her English.

It was as hot as the Dickens when set foot outside to get on the trolley. I used my big shopping bag to carry the items I was giving Zarina which constituted a problem when riding the trolley as it was packed with people even on such a sweltering day.

Zarina was at her desk and gave me a big hug when she saw me. She had photos on her cell phone of the place where the building of her new house is taking place and I took a look at them. She wanted to know if Lingua was giving me some kind of farewell party, and I said I hoped not.

Leila, Anna, Aigul, Asel, Larissa and Gulnara were all in the office still, and I got the perfunctory greeting from all of them while confirming lunch on Friday with Gulnara. Having nothing else to do there, Damira and I proceeded to take a marshrutka to the Christian Orthodox Church I’d seen several times and wanted to take photos of for my collection.

I was not able to go inside the church because I lacked a scarf to cover my head while a guy wearing track pants, a T-shirt and tennis shoes stood inside admiring the architectural details. I tell you, these churches can be so ridiculous when it comes to attire, but what really burns me is that it’s only applicable to women in all of them.

We took yet another marshrutka to the Faisa Café and arrived there at ten to six. Willoughby called me a few minutes earlier to say she was at the corner of Sovietskaya, too far. She was to take another marshrutka to join us at the café.

We saw no signs of any foreigners inside and even asked one of the servers, but they hadn’t noticed any group of foreigner gathering yet. Willoughby arrived wearing the dark blue skirt I’d given her in Saint Petersburg. She looked great in it.

At six o’clock on the dot, Jana and Alex arrived with a small sign reading “CS”. I had notified one of the waitresses that we’d need at least two tables pushed together as we were expecting between 7-8 people. We placed the sign facing the entrance and made a round of introductions. Jana and Alex are from Germany and have been traveling by motorcycle around the Eurasian continent.

We then had someone from Turkey, Cate, a guy from Canada, an American from Saint Petersburg, FL, someone from Russia and at least six locals wanting to meet foreigners mainly to improve their conversational skills. I ordered a variation of lagman with rice instead of noodles, a salad and water as the place doesn’t serve alcohol, but what I really wanted was a very cold beer.

Our conversation or several of them at some point, revolved around the difficulties of getting visas to travel around Central Asia and China. We all shared funny anecdotes about dealing with corrupt or incompetent border crossing officers.

The food was disappointing, bland to say the least. Alex asked if he could finish my meal and I was more than happy to oblige. The heat was oppressive as the tables are set very close to each other and there wasn’t even a ceiling fan to provide some breeze. I begged to leave at about 7:40, but we had settled the account all together and by the time we were finished, everyone else was ready to go.

Cate and Damira walked with me to my intersection, and then we bid each other goodbye. Damira indicated she wants to have me come over to her house Saturday night.

Monday, July 1, 2013

July 1

July 1, 2013

First business of the day was notifying my sister that I was up and ready to skype with her and my brother-in-law so we could map out a plan for my arrival. We made a tentative plan for me to stay at their house while I get my car registration up-to-date and other details.

Having a long list of tasks to achieve before my departure on the 12th, I set out to call and email a lot of people to get things done. First of all was Gulnara at Lingua whom I informed I’d be working from home to complete all the reports due to Georgetown and the embassy prior to my departure.

I also inquired, again, about my session for their ESP seminar so I could add it to my calendar. As a goodwill gesture, I also extended an invitation to lunch so we could summarize what had happened these past nine months. She replied by saying the trainers had enough staff members to fill all the slots for the seminar and that my presence wasn’t required.

We agreed to have lunch on Friday and then she informed me that an invitation card from the U.S. Embassy for a reception on July 3 had been dropped at Lingua for me to pick it up. I agreed to do so on my way to the meetup for couch surfers taking place nearby tomorrow evening.

I found three angry mosquito bites on my right leg only, which meant they were able to bite right through my jeans during my visit at the cemetery. The bites continued to swell and itch as the day progressed and made it impossible to cross my legs at all. How I loathe mosquitoes!

I heard from Willoughby that Jennifer had squealed on her to Peace Corps about her making negative comments about the food during CATEC and her habit of knitting even when the ambassador was speaking. She was forced to write a note of apology to Jennifer even though it clearly pointed out that the food had been unpalatable. Good for her!

Asel confirmed that his student, Rasur, wanted to buy my laptop. He called subsequent to our email and promptly came by with the $100.00 payment I had asked for it. When asked if he wanted a receipt, since we agreed I could keep the laptop until the 10th, he didn’t understand. I proceeded to write, print and sign a receipt acknowledging the receipt of the money and the delivery date.

Diana, a friend of my landlady, had agreed to buy my backpack and sleeping bag as they are now running a business that caters to tourists wanting to go trekking overnight. We agreed on $50.00 for the backpack, which was almost new, and $40.00 for the sleeping bag because Diana claimed tourists demand that an additional piece of linen be inserted in the sleeping bag for hygienic purposes.

I needed to reimburse Willoughby for the money she’d loaned me during the travels in Russia since my own credit card had been useless there. I had taken careful notes of the expenditures and emailed her with my summary. We both agreed it was correct, so I’ll reimburse her tomorrow at the meetup.

I informed Cate about the meetup so she’ll have an opportunity to meet the local organizers. I also emailed Luann, spoke to Damira and Willoughby and they all agreed to go except for Luann who already had a commitment.

Jennifer and Gulnara from Forum both replied indicating they’d received the notification to complete the ELF letter of recommendation and were hoping to do so soon. I also completed the last four highlight reports for the embassy and RELO for which Jennifer indicated her appreciation. No word from Johanna.

As I was preparing to complete my final expense report for the entire ten months I’ve been here, I occurred to me that most of the receipts I had for the purpose of photocopying and laminating materials had been printed on very low quality paper and the dates were either illegible or missing.

I wrote to Jennifer, Johanna and Gen, at Georgetown, to see if it’d be possible for me to combine all receipts into one-line item in the report as I’d been given a budget of $200.00 for such expenses. Gen was the only one to reply in the positive.

My brother-in-law reminded I was going to order a new laptop from and then emailed him the confirmation as I was going to use their address for shipment. I did so and then remembered I also needed a stylus pen for my tablet and got those ordered together. The laptop is expected to arrive on the 9th, three days before my arrival.

What a hectic day and without even setting a foot outside my flat!

Sunday, June 30, 2013

June 30, 2013

Slept relatively well and got up at six to get ready as Cate was coming by at eight to take me to visit the cemetery and the Osh bazaar. Coffee tasted better than ever as I sat at my computer to read emails and FB postings.

Cate was on time and I quickly finished eating my toast with the Nutella spread before heading out to Manas Avenue. We waited for the right marshrutka to come by and when it didn’t, Cate suggested we get a cab since she wasn’t sure about the marshrutka number anymore.

It was a long ride, past the U. S. Embassy, thus as far as I’d gone before, until we reached a turn off. The approach to the cemetery had been lined with flower vendors and lapidary stores. The street in itself was another pockmarked narrow lane where the asphalt had disappeared under the weight of the years.

We were dropped off at a specific point and Cate led the way to the grave sites she thought would be of interest to me because of their headstones, extensive ironwork fences or crosses when the deceased was of a Christian Orthodox background.

I learned that Russians of the Christian Orthodox faith allow three days for the viewing of the body after it has been embalmed. Friends and relatives gather for a meal after the burial, just like our wakes, and then return nine days later for another celebration as that day marks the day relatives believe the soul leaves the body for good.

I was sad to see how many young people were buried at this cemetery, mostly in their early twenties, and the extent to which their relatives had gone to give them an almost opulent grave. I wondered how many had died due to a drug overdose or car accidents.

We had a good walk with my climbing over brambles and weeds to get a better view and photo of some of the grave sites. We bought some cold water on the way out and boarded a marshrutka to get to the Osh bazaar.

I only had rubles left in my wallet and thus it was necessary to get to an exchange place where the clerk refused to take any of my coins. I had noticed that they round out the sum to their benefit to avoid handling any coins whatsoever.

I was hungry by then, so we stopped right next door and ordered a couple bowls of lagman soup. Cate turned down the flat bread, but I had a small piece since I hadn’t eaten any since leaving Bishkek for Russia.

It was then on to find the fly zapper we had seen at the Vanilla Sky place, and we quickly found it for 300 som or about $6.25. I still need to get an adapter to be able to charge it in the States, but I was happy with my purchase.

We happened to be very close to the place selling souvenirs and I headed that way immediately to get some felt earrings and additional silk scarves for my friends back home. The price for the scarves had already gone up, 400 som instead of the original 350 just a few weeks ago, and bought three more.

Cate was looking for shampoo, but I told her to please accept the set of shampoo and conditioner I still had at home and which I’d have no chance to use at all. She seemed reluctant at first, but then agreed to the deal.

We went across the street so I could buy a few vegetables to cook at home this week. Carrots, cabbage, onions, cilantro, tomatoes, eggplants and peppers quickly filled up several small bags and then I came across a beautiful yellow melon and had to have one along with one piece of flat bread.

The #35 bus came by a few minutes later and deposited us in front of my building. Cate came upstairs to help me with my bags and then took the bottles of shampoo and conditioner. There’s still another park she wants for me to see before my departure and will arrange for it later on this week.

I got to take a long shower, did my hair and changed into one of my favorite short night gowns to be completely relaxed for the rest of the afternoon. I then set out to update my application for the EFL program to keep it active just in case something comes up that would right up my alley.

I sent requests for letters of recommendation from both Gulnaras and from Willoughby as well. I notified Jennifer of my intentions hoping she’ll second my application by confirming I had done a decent job while working under her supervision. It’s now out of my hands what ultimately happens.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

June 29, 2013

I had agreed to meet with Ekatarina for coffee today, and she chose 11:00 am as the right time for her. We settled on Vanilla Sky so I could continue to work on updating my blog entries until she got there.

We sat in the glassed-in terrace which features a cascade of water falling quietly over the glass windows. I have no idea what feat of engineering allowed that to happen. She had brought me a gorgeous pair of earrings to match the garnet ring I got in Nepal years ago. We both ordered latte, and then I decided to peruse the selection of pastries inside and settled for one covered with coconut flakes.

I was told it was 60 som and that was reasonable, but when I asked the clerk to send it to my table in the terrace she told me that was the price if I wanted the pastry to go, but to eat it in the restaurant, it would cost me 100 som. I turned it down simply refusing to go along with such an idiotic notion.

Cate, as Ekaterina prefers to be called, was a participant in the workshops I offered at the Russian Slavonic University back in November. She’s currently teaching test preparation classes for the American University of Central Asia. She’d been the only participant at that university to ever show any interest in receiving additional materials and to have kept in touch until now.

After talking for a couple of hours, we discovered we’re truly kindred souls. We constantly strive to become better professionals at what we do, we like to stay informed and think critically about the issues facing humanity, love to read and watch films that portrait life as it really is while generously offering our knowledge and resources to anyone who can benefit from it.

In addition, we’re feisty women who refuse to be cowered when we see an injustice being committed anywhere and against anyone. Clearly, such posture can bring negative repercussions, which we’re willing to deal with instead of becoming just another “Yes” person.

I noticed a server going around with an object that looked like a small racquetball, but which was being used to zap flies inside the terrace. When I inquired about it, Cate told me it was a product made in China that can be charged overnight and then used to kill flies, something like a taser.

I immediately demanded to know where I could buy one for my mom as I know she goes berserk when flies get inside her house. Cate offered to go with me to the Osh bazaar tomorrow since I still want to buy a few felt earrings for my friends in Florida and she reassured me I could find the fly taser there as well. 

We took a walk in the park behind my building, the one I hadn’t had time to explore yet and sat in bench to talk for hours. We now have plans to visit a Christian Orthodox cemetery early tomorrow morning, as she’s learned about my obsession with cemeteries, and then later on to the Osh bazaar.

Cate accompanied me to the convenience store across the street so I could buy some take out items for dinner and then I showed her the apartment.  We ran into the cleaning lady on the stairs and she informed Cate that I was behind on the payment for such services.

Cate promised to send me some links to movies she’s seen online that dealt with the issues of corruption, government lying campaigns, the big business religion is and others. I’m so fortunate to have found someone like her just a few days before my departure.

My landlady came around five to inform me she’d be out of town until the 14 of July. I, in turn, informed her I needed to keep the apartment beyond the original July 1 date since I’d now be leaving earlier than planned and would not be making the trip to Dushanbe that I’d dreamed about so long.

She agreed to my paying on a day-to-day basis and designated her girlfriend to come and pick up the payment and the key on the 11th of July. She reassured me the girlfriend still wanted to buy both my sleeping bag and backpack. I was surprised as to how easy going she was about the whole thing. She, in turn, remarked as to how cool the apartment was with only the one A/C unit on.
June 28, 2013

Up at the usual time still fuming about the incident the previous night. Went down to the dining room for breakfast hoping that Jennifer might have left already for Astana and I would not have to face her again. A few minutes after I sat at the table, Jennifer came down with Natalia and sat at the table next to ours.

Salads graced the table, but no coffee. When asked about it, the server brought a small quantity in a tea bowl and acted surprised when we asked for cups. He indicated the kitchen had no cups that morning. I had another meltdown and asked him how it was possible that the kitchen had had over 200 cups the previous afternoon, but now expected their guests to drink coffee from a tea bowl.

He gave me a blank look and I just stormed out of the room. Willoughby called me from the hallway and asked why I had left her behind and I apologized profusely to her. I had a few pieces of pastries to eat and Willoughby offered another envelope of 3-in-1 to go with it until we could have lunch.

The bus was expected to pick us up at 1:00, but at 12:20 the dining room was still no ready for us to eat. When the food did arrive, it was buckwheat, something I also detest. The vegetarian plate: buckwheat with slices of tomatoes and cucumbers.

I saw someone with a plate of salad and found out a variety of salads had been laid out near the kitchen door and headed there to fill my stomach with at least some greens. Corrie, Annah, Sarah and Asia shared the table with me and we all talked about life after our stint in Central Asia. I mentioned I had no plans beyond getting to Florida as soon as possible.

Willoughby left the table to secure the two front seats for us as soon as the bus arrived. We had packed before lunch and were ready to go. The tourist bus, the big one with wide windows, was designated for the delegates from other countries and the ones for Kyrgyzstan were sent to the marshrutkas. We ended up in a pretty new one with plenty of elbow room.

Elvira sat behind us never uttering a sentence. I guess she’d decided that as long as Willoughby sticks around me, neither one of us exists. The driver chose to drive through the old road heading to Tokmok since some of the teachers wanted to be dropped us along the way. The drive was long and tedious as we got into heavy rush hour traffic as we reached Bishkek.

Willoughby and I shared a taxi to our respective places. I was simply delighted to be back at my place and hopeful I could get a full night sleep.
June 27, 2013

Willoughby knocked on my door by 7:30 so we could go together to have breakfast. More salads were on display on the table, but no coffee or cream. There were some cold cuts and bread so I made another sandwich while David joked around the table.

The first presentation I attended had to do with teacher training and critical thinking, but I can’t remember a whole lot about it. The presenter ran through her slides extremely fast and was done in less than the forty minutes allotted. Since there was another presentation going on right behind her, I sidled up to it and caught the tail end of a workshop on teaching proverbs.

I asked the presenter if I could have her email it to me and she referred me to her FB link to the “Shaping the Way we Teach English” website where her group in Kazakhstan had uploaded other materials as well. I got lost in the maze of corridors looking for the next presenter only to find out she had been moved to the same room I had just left.

Here we did an exercise writing a poem about our origins which reminded me of the ones my students had done when I taught secondary school. Ann McAllen returned with a workshop on global issues ELF teachers should engage their students in and was mesmerized by all the different possibilities and websites she mentioned. I added the “Upcycle” website to her list of ideas for recycling, reusing and remaking.

It was time for Willoughby to present and she had been given a tiny room with no laptop or PowerPoint. Willoughby, who had never put together a presentation had done so this time, but was told she not requested any equipment on her original application and there would be none available now.

In spite of that, and using notes in the old-fashioned way, she conducted a thrilling workshop on how to write rubrics that matched the objectives of the lesson. I helped my group write a rubric for speaking activities and got it done within the time allotted. She received effusive comments from the participants and requests for additional information as well.

Lunch was just slightly better with the same salad as the day before, but lamb and potatoes for the main course. I sat with a group of Tajik teachers and learned they taught at the same university as the teacher with whom I had conducted the Access summer camp last year in Khorog. They all knew Mabluda and best of all, knew all about the vocabulary I’d given her and the fly swatters to play games.

They couldn’t believe they were sitting in front of the same trainer Mabluda had spoken about so often. They also mentioned that they still play the games I had taught her but couldn’t say if she continued to work for the Access program.

Willoughby and I attended two sessions on critical thinking and reading from university professors who taught in both Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan. Both presentations were quite engaging and each teacher allowed me to copy it to my flashdrive for possible use in the future.

During the coffee break, Jennifer called for a short meeting of all the EFLs to say how glad she'd been to have had a chance to work with all of us and that none of us would be returning to our respective posts. Toni decided to gush about Jennifer's skills as a RELO while I only asked about her policy regarding letters of recommendation. She was firm in saying she'd not issue general letters, but would reply to individual requests for specific jobs.

After the coffee break, we listened to another plenary speaker on the subject of the state of the profession and its professional development. Jennifer said a few words of closing and then handed out certificates of appreciation to all the English language coordinators at the respective embassies in Central Asia.

Tahmina, from Tajikistan, hadn’t been able to come to the conference and I was glad to have been spared her presence during this event. The staff at Lingua was called in and given a certificate for their efforts in coordinating the entire event and even Anna was called to the stage. My name never came up.

The weather was a bit more agreeable, so a walk on the lake shore was in order. I convince Willoughby to take off her shoes and sandals as I knew that walking on the sand is the best exercise for the legs. We ran into quite a few other attendees doing the same and talked to them along the way. I had brought my tablet and took some photos as well.

On the way back, we saw Holly and three other female EFLs practicing the Kazak dance for the cultural night event happening after dinner. I had turned down the opportunity to participate as had already seen it in Shymkent and found it extremely boring.

Willoughby decided to go back to the restaurant in the lobby while I went to the dining room hoping the hotel would offer something special for our last night there. There was a somewhat spicy salad on the table and I sat next to Umed, from Tajikistan. Asel came by later on and sat next to me.

A DJ was playing music and soon a woman and another man started singing songs that everyone seemed to know for most of the audience could sing along with it. The main dish came and it was another disappointment: two lumps of beef with no color or flavor and chunks of potatoes. I passed the beef on to Umed and ate the potatoes along with Asel’s salad.

The cultural night was due to start at 8:30 and Willoughby was nowhere to be seen. I went up to her room and convinced her to come and join us as Asel had asked me to bring my flashdrive with Latin music so I could dance a bit for the crowd.

Tables were cleared and a center stage was set for each country, starting with Tajikistan, to sing or dance as they pleased. I loved listening to Tajik music again and seeing the graceful dancer from the Khorog region in her traditional garb. The male dancers from Uzbekistan left me breathless for their speed and agility. The Turkwomen sang a song in a manner I’d never seen and would find difficult to explain.

Kazakhstan followed with a dance by a woman with a tea pot apparently trying to woo a male. The floor was then yielded to the American contingent and Jennifer took the mike. I asked her quickly if she could allow two minutes for me to play a merengue song and she nodded her assent.

ELFs and Peace Corps volunteers played a variety of instruments and country songs I had never heard before Holly and the other ELFs took to the floor to do the Kazakh dance. The audience erupted in applause as they usually do when Americans make fools of themselves.

Holly then instructed the DJ to play the “Cotton-eye Joe” song we had listened to while learning line dancing in Almaty last January. She asked everyone who had been at the mid-year conference to stand up and join her, but I pretended not to hear for I hate line dancing.

Jennifer looked at me and said I needed to join the group despite my protest that I didn’t remember any of the steps. She replied she didn’t either and it was something to be done to demonstrate group spirit or some other kind of drivel to the same effect. I felt I had no choice but to jump and slide as best I could while the crow laughed uproariously.

Holly had yet another performance in which she and two other girls played the role of cheerleaders and had Bill lift them sequentially into each other’s backs to then jump forward. All of this was done to the most god-awful music at ear-splitting levels that you can possibly fathom. When Holly was done, Jennifer put the microphone down and whispered to me that the Americans were out of time even though no signal had been sent to that effect.

I knew deep within me that the slight had not been unplanned. She certainly doesn’t see me as an American, never has, and was not about to let me play music she certainly doesn’t think reflect what the United States is. As soon as the Kyrgyz representatives finished their performance, I went to my room red in face with embarrassment and a deep sense of hate.