Saturday, June 29, 2013

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.

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