So... I'm no longer abroad

I returned from Kyrgyzstan. And promptly went off to Texas. And then after stopping home in California long enough to change bags, visit a beach and repack, I went off to Washington DC. After a few days there, then off to Georgia to visit some family for Diwali. And from there back to California where I've been ever since. 

Wear Purple Today

Realistically I wouldn't be saying this if I was still in Central Asia. One, because with the language barrier I am limited to "Thank You", directions back to the flat, and a few basic menu items. And while knowing how to get food, a tea or beer, thank the server and get home at the end of the evening is useful, it won't begin to start any sort of conversation when tact and sensitivity is needed. And those would both be needed with the topic on my mind today.

I'm wearing purple right now. Purple isn't my favorite color but I'm wearing it today because there's been a wave of publicly noticed LGBT youth suicides and there is an awareness event to show support for those youth. But before this recent wave the following statistics were all already known. 

• 9 out of 10 LGBT students experienced harrassment in school in 2009. 
• 30% missed a day of school after staying home due to safety concerns. 
• LGBT teens are 4 times more likely to commit suicide than their heterosexual & cisgendered peers
• 1 of 3 LGBT youth has attempted suicide

This is a reality that should be the cause of conversation and much thought. I hope you do something to show support to the youth who find themselves attacked by the same homophobia we see in politics without the shield of rhetoric but rather to their faces and in personal attacks. We as a society have tolerated this behavior from our leaders, from the media, and in doing so taught the next generation such hate is okay. It's not. And we have a lot of work to do to make sure the promise of equality and freedom is open to all and not just an American ideal never to be reached.

I hope you have a wonderful day, and that you too are wearing purple.

After these messages we'll be right back... Maybe.

Soooo.... I'm back in California. After the last post I spent 4 hours around the airport in Istanbul before getting on my flight for JFK. Arrived there relieved and excited to be surrounded by fellow Americans with their endearing habits like speaking English with slang I could understand. The flight was odd and wonderful as a result of the full day delay. As a result of seeing folks in the lines the day before, while waiting for the flight, while in our seats, on route to the hotel, at the hotel, in the elevators, over dinner and then again at breakfast and in the airport and then once again on the plane - faces were familiar. And passengers were talking, enjoying each others' company and so forth. While waiting for restrooms people would allow others who needed it more urgently to jump the que, when going to get snacks from the back of the plane folks would offer to pick up an extra for the passenger next to them and when I went to the back to stretch my legs I ended up joining a woman for a glass of wine to celebrate her recent wedding. It was like the entire plane's mood had changed from one of annoyance to acceptance of the situation and then into a celebration of the temporary community we'd created. Definitely an enjoyable experience.

Waiting in JFK was a bit odd as the family feeling spread out but was still present in clumps around various gates. But unlike on our flight where Delta staff had been apologetic and friendly to make up for it - we now had the business as usual poor service that is usual for airlines in America. Though Delta as a company was rather nice as they gave me an upgrade to make up for the delay so the NY to SF flight was amazing in that they asked me if I wanted a drink - and the chair was so comfortable after so many hours in transit that by the time they brought the drink I had passed out. Definitely a relief.

Anyways. I arrived back to California. A quick rest but not enough time to get over my jet lag before I left for my next destinations: Houston and Galveston. I had an amazing time in both locations, and I came back last night from Galveston where I spent the majority of the time. But as I found via a series of emails while on my way back - that will be the last of my travels in the near future due to some visa trouble with the Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan. The rest of the crew all have EU or CIS country passports and can reapply for transit visas whereas as an American I sadly cannot. So for the next unknown amount of time I shall be out here in California. Slash where ever I wander off to. (Not going to lie, already started looking to see if a DC trip would be possible for the Rally to Restore Sanity)

Regardless the last few days have been incredibly restorative thanks to the good company I was surrounded by. Though the jet lag has been bizarre to say the least. Within a little over a week I flew west (Almaty to Oral), east (back to Almaty), west (To Turkey), far west (To NY), farther west (To SF), rest then east again (Texas) and yesterday west again (Back to Cali). Also the climate changes from Bishkek to Oral, Turkey to California, the humidity of Texas and back to the dry heat and cold nights of the bay... well it's a bit odd. My body and mind have ceased to go into culture shock, climate shock and jet lag seems to be habitual enough that I'm almost normalizing on this crazy routine. Which might make a normal schedule odd. Whenever I find one of those.

I'll probably post more at a more normal hour later this week once I have a better idea of what I'm doing. Discovering that I'm not flying out tomorrow morning means I'm not leaving for the airport in an hour, I haven't repacked, and I might be in one place long enough to normalize a sleep schedule (obviously not tonight though... far too late for that. I blame my computer's overheating during the day and not at night for this problem as it's easier to work on photos now... ) But yes. My life is about to resume a much more boring track for the short term. Consider it a commercial break between now and the more interesting times I hope to be ahead.

In Istanbul (Sort of... )

Quick summary.

 

I left Bishkek for Almaty in a minibus. While in the station took a hard fall over a minispeed-bump thing ... why it was in a path in the dark in the rain? I don't know. But I fell hard on concrete and hurt my wrist and ribs while using both to protect my camera. Camera outside scratched on the edge of the lens, but functional. Wrist - sore for a while, used an ace bandage and pain killers and now it's up to par. Ribs bruises are almost gone, still hurts like hell if I stretch or breath too deep. Oh well. No stretching... back to minibus... took it to Almaty. Had a fever, wasn't fun. Fail. Got to the airport, got a room at the hotel attached. Quick shower, hour nap and then off to Uralsk. Arrived there to discover. DAAAAAMN this place is cold. Really cold. Like the captain announced when we landed at 9 am - it was 5 below zero. COLD. And I've got this annoying fever and red nose and... the hotel we're supposed to stay at that the director stayed at in May... well it's a nice place. But they don't turn the hear on till the 15th. Whoops. Not gonna cut it for a sick Urv. So Ainura and I go to 6 different places checking both quality of the hotel and more importantly - does the heater work. Some had heaters in the room that they said worked, but if you turned on the fan, cold air. Eventually we found a place. At this point we eat lunch. Return to the room at 12 pm. I pass out. Pass OUT. So passed out that at 10 am the next morning I wake up. 22 hours of sleep. Fever easing up a little. Sleep = magic.

 Then blah blah stress phone call pack up leave crazy stress 12:50 flight out... somehow catch it. Money is as always a problem as Ainura's flight we can't get as we need to exchange money to get the ticket and the cash counter is randomly closed. We panic a bit, make some calls and eventually I say good luck, farewell and board my flight leaving her with almost all the money and taking $100 for excess baggage fees... Which was less than half of what I needed. But I had my salary in cash so I ended up being okay/spending that/I'm gonna be so broke as a result of this project/OMG where am I going?!?

Moving on. I fly out to Atyrau. Where is that? Good question. I didn't know either. I found it on an inflight map. South of where I was. I arrive an hour later. And wait until 5 pm to board a flight that left at like 7? Then off to Almaty. I arrive near 10 or 11pm (flying east here folks) and then wait till 3:40 for the flight to Istanbul.

I have no clue the time here... I'm flying east now I'm flying west. I arrive in Istanbul just after 6 am and the Delta flight counter opens at 9:15. We've gone west, the time has changed, I have no watch, had no sleep, have been going east and west and the light makes no sense and I'm just too tired. Eventually I find out for $250 they will change my flight to the flight today as opposed to in three days. Sold. Then $205 excess baggage fee because I'm carrying all the stuff I was supposed to leave in the Land Rover I never saw when I was in Uralsk... Whoops. There goes my September pay. Ugh. Then after waiting to sell me the ticket until 11:15 when they knew they had a seat for me, Delta tells me "RUN!" So I do. Check in has started. I rush for passport control, dash through customs, jog down a very long airport with my north face gear making me look much more athletic than I am and arrive to the gate just in time to be pulled aside for extra security and have my bag hand searched, scanned for radioactivity and also have the normal x ray treatment.

Then I wait. Wait 2 hours more. Then we get on the plane. Wait 2 and a half hours more. Then Delta says, sorry... we're not flying today. Panic. Border control. Passport checks for everyone. Waiting to collect our bags. Shuffled onto buses... And magically deposited at a utopia of a hotel.

After getting through the annoying long check in process (I've had enough lines people!) I'm given a key and one of my new friends from the last few hours of waiting (obviously I talked to everyone around me as they spoke English and this after Central Asia was a novelty!) helped me carry the REI bag that's the size of a dead body and then some up to my room. Glorious room! Took a hot shower and came out a smiling human. And then they gave us delicious food (first real meal since the flight from Almaty to Istanbul... which wasn't real. It was fake eggs I swear!) and suddenly life was good. Now I'm well fed, about to rest, in good company, logistics are being managed and delays are not costing me a penny. And added bonus, I have internet. And a kiwi tart for dessert. Oh heaven, I arrived.

Someday I hope to see Istanbul. 

But for now I'm loving this extreme comfort giving me a break from airports as well as helping restore my health. Also found chapstick for sale here! The cold in Kazakhstan and the dry air on the flights made them chapped enough to almost bleed... it looked like I was wearing lipstick. Insane. But after obsessively reapplying it in the last few hours I am beginning to smile again without the painful cracks threatening to bleed on me.

 

TMI there probably. But oh well. Tomorrow at 8 am Delta should be collecting us from the hotel to send us all out to NY and then on to our connecting flights. So if all goes well I'll be back in California tomorrow night before traveling to an even more foreign land... Texas.

Oh dear, I have no life.

I was just online checking my email in between editing some files for work. And while online had a quick chat with a friend. I then proceeded to say I should sign off to finish some work before bed. (It's just after 11pm here in Bishkek)

It then occurred to me... I have no life. I have not yet followed my sister's advice and found more scandal and intrigue. And while I've fallen off Garmin's version of the world, I have no yet found some grand adventure. So dear friends go out and have a crazy adventure and email me all about it - I need to live vicariously through your insanity. As for now... I have work to do.

=(

Things I should post on later

Gender. Big topic. Interesting topic. Something I've been thinking about for the last few days. But because it is a big, interesting topic... It's also intimidating. And will take more time to write than I'm ready to sit in front of a computer screen to do right now.

Also, I want to write about US LGBT Youth Suicides visibility in American media and how different it is to read the news from here.

Also Californian mud slinging in the political arena and the current elections here in Bishkek. Somehow corruption being the norm here makes it more polished and although the American political system seems more legitimate in outcomes the process is uglier... or at least so it seems from here.

GPS devices.

Cameras.

Being American.

Mosquitoes.

Food.

Why Coca-cola is so comforting when abroad....

Lots of things. But somehow though I often feel like an opinionated person who doesn't listen enough, when I'm typing posts I'm always second guessing. Is that really the way it was? Or did I just see it this way because of... ? Maybe that's not totally accurate. Let's just say that which can't be debated.

And by the time my mental loops have been jumped through the text that results is sadly boring. I read my coworker's blog and go, "Wow that sounds so exciting! But... that's not how I remember it at all. It was much more... eh/whatever. Not OMG exciting." Maybe I'm just being jaded? Maybe it is incredibly exciting. Maybe my life is much more interesting than I'm currently giving myself credit for. But from where I'm sitting it seems all I can do is hope this burning mosquito coil works, the net doesn't crash, the garlic adds flavor to the MREs, the only working converter doesn't conk out as it would kill my laptop's usefulness and that I can sleep through the call to prayer at 5:30 in the morning. It quickly goes from new exciting locale to adjusted rhythm of life with standard daily quirks and the desire not to see THE WORLD in big exciting capitals, but rather simply find a gym. The world will still be there afterwards, but somehow a forth floor walk up is just not as satisfying as a rowing machine.

Rest Day Photos - Part 1 (Part 2 to come when the net behaves... )

Don't Drink the Water

Actually I didn't drink the water. But I did eat the salad. Whoops.

My Californian kid mentality is craving vegetables. I know Americans are known for NOT eating their veggies, and apparently the Kyrgyz are similar in that respect. Thanks to summer there is a plethora of fresh produce, but the traditional food doesn't really incorporate it. So the veggies seem to be mostly served in salads, which would be fine, except the water is a bit of a challenge for the fragile western digestive system. At least I think that's what did it - but today I'm not feeling too hot. Luckily better off than my roomie out here in Bishkek - who woke up, puked, returned to bed. I opted to stay in bed without that excursion but still feeling a bit off. Hoping it passes quick.

It's Sunday here in Bishkek and it's looking like I will definitely be in town for the election on Tuesday. Which I am excited about as I'm sure it will be interesting to see an election outside the states. The closest to that I've seen in the past was back when Bush v. Gore was still undecided during winter break when I'd flown out to see family in India. But election day itself - I've never seen in another country, and in a country that's only recently had a revolution I'm sure it will be even more interesting. Not sure what to expect, but oh well... Adventure continues even if it's been on pause for today.

A Day of Rest and Energy in the Evening

Today after taking the time to sleep in I found myself wondering, what is there to do in Bishkek for a non-Russian speaker? And getting little other advice I found myself following google maps to see Osh Bazaar again. Nice walk, interrupted by a political rally. This time by the supporters of the guy with the red flags all over Bishkek... So his supporters were all wearing red and carrying larger versions of the red flags. Fliers have been popping up all over so the formerly saturated wall postings are now once again recovered in fresh fliers. The blue and red ones I've gotten used to seeing have competition from a fresh coat of bright green fliers. This election is now in RGB!

I'm sure I'd have more interesting thoughts about this if I knew anything about any of the candidates. The only thing I know is the one who's face is 8 stories high farther down our block apparently cheated on his master's according to one of the girls in the office who knew him in school. They're all supposed to be corrupt in different degrees from what I've heard, and I don't know much about them. So it's weird because I see a political rally and think, "Cool! Bright colors, people who *WANT* their photo taken and not looking like a tourist when I shoot photos. (obviously I'm a journalist not a tourist when it's newsworthy)"

Eventually made it to the bazaar and took more photos because last time was obviously not enough. Then did the stereotypical expat thing and had dinner at Fatboys. A local restaurant with a menu in English! How exciting. Did an atypical meal of Turkish plov, Chinese beef, and British cider. Multinational meal! Actually a delicious combination too. I'd recommend it and have it again. Then proceeded to walk back to the flat.

As I arrived fireworks started exploding over Bishkek. Sounded very eerie as midway through the call to prayer began at the mosque on our street so their was an odd blending of booming explosions and a deep voice resonating through the clear night. Something very violent about the contrast in the sounds. But that might just be because I'm only used to hearing fireworks on the 4th of July and new year's day - so the sound is unfamiliar when unexpected in a foreign city. Regardless, the combination of the sounds in the air, the presence of political fliers EVERYWHERE, spontaneous rallies and men with megaphones definitely has injected energy into the stagnant and quiet life I seem to have become accustomed to in Bishkek.

I have no clue what the schedule looks like, but after the rally yesterday and another today - I feel like this weekend will continue to get more and more interesting. And Tuesday should be very exciting at this rate. But part of me hopes it's really rather dull as dull tends to mean peaceful and orderly. Soon one of the girls will be taking us out later so hopefully will enjoy the first taste of Bishkek's night life - for now just relaxing around the flat listening to music. Hope you're well!

Photos from Around Town Continued...

Common Theme in Politics: Cute Kids

Seen earlier today while she was performing in an election rally at Victory Square. 

Photos from Around Town

I could comment on these images. But for the most part I’d like to believe they can speak for themselves. However if context is needed please do direct all questions to the comment box so I can address them later. 

I'd like to buy a product you say doesn't exist...

I'd like to buy a product you say doesn't exist... This feeling is rather familiar for any tech geek who's recently been to Fry's or a market in Bishkek. The salesperson will try to simultaneously try to sell you something else while informing you - no no this product doesn't exist. If you keep insisting they will reluctantly agree - yes in fact it does, but I don't have it. If you keep talking, somehow it magically comes to be and you end up buying exactly what you wanted. It works everytime. At Fry's it usually means it is one aisle over. In Bishkek one display case to the side. Occasionally they will in fact not have the product you want, but one stall over the competing vendor will.

Once you've found the product which 30 seconds ago did not exist, you will be offered a price. Resist the urge to convert the price into dollars and quickly accept! Whatever the price is - waiting for a few seconds, shaking your head for a moment and then paying will lead to saving roughly 10%. And even then you're not getting the local price. This was made evident when one of the girls in the office mentioned buying a USB cable for 100 com (a little over $2) and then the next day having the vendor say the true cost was only 50 com. Today when we went to buy identical cables we knew to start with 50 com, and of course only paid 40 com. (For those of you trying to convert to western prices $1 = roughly 46 com)

Sadly the act of bartering the price down doesn't work as well at Fry's as it does in Bishkek - but the service and the denial of the existence of the product you want to buy is a common trait it seems. And like geeks everywhere, I thankfully know this and am persistent enough to walk away with the cables I need.

A Blog on Blogging

I get the purpose of blogs – saying something to a wider audience and all that jazz – but these days while I’m simultaneously blogging here, on my photoblog, through video diaries for work, on our company blog, and occasionally through my old blogs (I seem to go through blogs in the same manner one goes through bars of soap – regularly and without much regard to them once I’m done.) I seem to have no clue what exactly I’m meant to be communicating.

Oh god my life is so interesting!

Maybe? Probably not. I’m sure other folks have much more interesting lives. Mine just happens to occasionally change location and those occasions seem a bit more frequent than some. (Though apparently not right now as for some reason I’m still in Bishkek without a clear departure date as I wait for my Kazakh visa extension to come through)

My photos are amazing!

Not really for that one either. Joy of the internet is you can find out just how many more brilliant people there are in the world – even if they aren’t in the same café, bookshop, restaurant or other common spaces with you. I might keep taking photos as a force of habit, and I like my photos in that selfish way that most people do like things they make, but they’re really not impressive enough to merit the “OMG! Look over here!” that is present in so much of shamelessly self promoting webwhorishness. (Proof this blog post is written for my blog and not work – that word would not be acceptable for school children, some of which may in fact read our blog)

My perspective is unique or my actions are interesting!

Once again, in the world wide web of human interactions – not really. In my immediate bubbles, I tend to stick out. But in my immediate bubbles that’s easy to do. Los Altos isn’t that big of a town. Santa Barbara is also a pretty small city. And after that I seem to have ended up in a pretty small company on a pretty big globe. In the grand scheme of things, I’m really not doing much.

My work today was in vain due to an internet café accidently terminating my internet connection 80% of the way in to an upload for a video that took far too long to make given its 1 minute length. And after an hour twenty – 80% was done and then made useless. Followed by returning to the office to log footage, run out of space on a hard drive, discover the disks for our external harddrive seem to be missing, wait on some emails, and attempt to edit footage only to discover it wouldn’t save properly due to the memory problem which can’t be resolved till we find the disks for the harddrives. All in all – I achieved very little. And yet here I am. And somehow when I left home everyone was patting my back and excited for all the things I would do on the road… like data management. Data producing is a thing I’m consistently good at whether through filming and photographing random items, events, happenings etc… but managing that data… oh boy. As anyone who was in my photos shot from 2007 to 2009 can attest – a two year delay in processing can and will occur. (Dear subjects of 365 Faces of the Year – SORRY!!!) On that note, I should probably go to bed soon. I have a long day of random errands (Today’s examples: Film a ride in a rickshaw through a Central Asian city and then paint a pipe black), data management (log said footage, edit into manageable videologs in FinalCut Pro), and other miscellaneous tasks (E-mail the director’s press card scans to Turkish officials to get permission to film, make some tea, call the web designer…)

All in all life continues on what seems like a standard for life living out of an office – scheduled entirely around work. There are definitely cons to having a bedroom across the hall from the main room of the office. Not sure how much longer I’ll be puttering around Bishkek (sometimes literally in the auto-rickshaw, most of the time just doing odds and ends in the office/around town) as there are some logistics holding us back – but I’m hoping we’ll be on the road sooner rather than later as I imagine fall and winter will only slow things down more. And outside of California they seem to have these weird things called seasons. Bizarre I tell you! 

Observations from an Internet Cafe

40% of my YouTube download for TracingTea is done... which means I've got plenty of time waiting here in the Internet cafe on Moscow Street* in Bishkek.

Things I've discovered while waiting.

• American pop music is near universal. Imagine your local top 40 clear channel station at home and the songs it had played to death 6 months ago. That's what's on the radio.
• Google.ru will suggest you change to the version for Google Netherlands before suggesting English.
• Despite being a block away from a mosque where all the women are wearing head scarves and full sleeves - all the girls here in the internet cafe are wearing standard Russian attire (read: showing off their legs, short sleeves, and wearing large diva-esque sunglasses on their heads)
• Duran Duran's Come Undone is perfectly acceptable on the same station as Alejandro and Te Amo.
• Control Shift is the short key to change from typing in Russian to typing in English
• Signs telling you the rules don't work if you're an American and the sign is in Russian... The size 72 font is far less intimidating when I can't read it...
• The Nescafe juice is far less enjoyable than the local apple juice that was in the same case. I can't read the details on the bottle - but pictures of apples on the side helped.
• I hate waiting. 53% loaded now but I'm still waiting on the other 47%. This is why photos > video. It takes less time to take it, less time to edit, less time to upload it, less time to look at it, and at the end you can print and frame it.
• Small children who are younger than 2 are much more interesting than those who are older. If they can't talk, they make funny faces that are much more universal than what could be Russian/Kyrgyz/ or gibberish without me knowing the difference. Also it seems there are many more children here and people are more likely to take their kids out with them than if they were in the States.

I'm bored of writing. Off to Google News to catch up on world affairs while I'm waiting.

*Slight variation if we want to be accurate, but oh well. If you googled this and Gogol Street you'd be within a block of me. I just don't know the other cross road and I don't want to slow the download in the other window by googling it.

A Visit to the Market

Today I got a chance to see where the Kyrgyz do some of their shopping as we went to the market place. A few things I was surprised to see...  The US Army gear... our tax dollars hard at work, being resold by Kyrgyz merchants. Hearing Lady Gaga, Rihanna and Jay-Z in various stalls. Our pop music is everywhere! And the number of Kyrgyz men who upon seeing me with my camera would say the only English they knew, "I LOVE YOU!" Oh dear. They should be prepared to be heartbroken if all it takes is a tourist to attract their attention! 

In my touristy-ness I also broke gender norms by purchasing a hat that is traditionally worn by me, for myself. It was much cooler than what I think of the women's scarves and headpieces so yeah- doing what I do and buying what I liked = gender bending out here. Also bought a canvas backpack for about $7 which I can use when I'm not carrying my computer as my other backpack is electronics central. Together the hat, a postcard and a backpack cost about $9. Very cheap. 

One lady upon seeing me with my camera became very animated and I thought she was angry at me for taking a photo of her stall - and I prepared myself for the worst (being asked to delete the photo) but as Aigul translated, it turns out she was excited that I was taking an interest and she wanted to know where I was from and what I was doing in Bishkek. Then she asked that I take a proper photo of her, which I did. And I quite like it I must say - but I'm not going to post it now as the internet is on the company MacBook and the photos are on my Acer which currently has a dead battery and needs to be charged. But look forward to future posts with photos from the bustling market place.

In an effort to not be redundant...

I don't want to say the same things here as are said and published in the work blog.

But I am posting there as well. In fact today you can see photos of the work we did this afternoon.

I don't know if it's the jet lag, the irregular sleep hours or the odd feeling of waiting that is making me tired - but I am rather tired. Like a caffeine addict having withdraws - except without the addict and withdraws part. And without the caffeine.

I suppose it's partially because I'm not used to not choosing my own schedules. Even with school and work in the past - I got to chose at the beginning of the quarter, when will I be available for work, and when will I fall off the face of the earth. But here because I'm staying in the flat with the office, I'm not exploring on my own due to the language barrier and I'm doing work when it is asked of me - thus I'm no longer choosing my hours. Furthermore because after work I blog for work, organize photos, tweet, edit footage and images etc... it seems the line between working and not is blurred. Whereas at home - when I'm doing work it's clear that I'm working and when I'm at home or out with friends that's clearly my time.

I suppose I should adjust to this sooner rather than later as once we hit the road it will likely be like this only more so.

Though I think the other thing I find odd is not having my car. The lack of self-mobility while being prepared to be on the move makes it very different than when I have the full freedom of movement and the confidence to explore or at least visit my favorite places. Not trying to complain here - just trying to identify where my head is at, and right now it's that sort of odd stagnant feeling. Also wish there was a gym or something around here as even when I'm doing physical activity (carrying equipment, coming and going to the flat on the 4th floor etc..) it's spread through the day and I'd love to be able to do a long work out to exhaust myself to insure I could fall asleep at a normal time. But instead when the night comes I feel stir crazy and am typing away or working on project pieces I couldn't get to during the day.

Oh well. On that stir crazy note, I'm off to bed. If you want to see photos - they're not too impressive but they're up on the TracingTea blog.

Sleepless in Bishkek

Somehow sleepless in Bishkek sounds far less interesting than Sleepless in Seattle, but there you have it. It's nearing 5 am here and I'm awake and feeling restless. I'm sure I'll be exhausted again later, but somehow despite a week out here I've yet to adjust to the local time zone. Or at least I've yet to sleep a proper night's sleep in one go, or without aggressively attacking mosquitoes distracting me from the task of sleep.



I tried to see if I could get some sort of sleep aid to help cope with the jet lag and have found such things are lacking. I was tossing and turning so a few minutes ago decided to just stop the tossing and turning and get up, and upon doing so discovered Rosie was on the computer in the same boat. And apparently the thought of Sleepless in Seattle also occurred to her, so after finishing this first paragraph we laughed at the likemindedness (or cliché-ness perhaps ) of our early morning Bishkek thoughts. Obviously I lack originality at this hour especially - so shall therefore reapply mosquito repellant and try to sleep a bit more before the sun rises and the call to prayer tells me I should be more religious or at least more alert.

Standing in Sandals

Walking around Bishkek today nothing really came to mind. It just was. Another place in the world operating on its normal pace. Different people on the posters. Different politicians being sold to the people. Different language being spoken. Different food on the plates. Different currency in my pocket - but the daily rhythm was so evident it felt nothing but normal. The way it feels to walk through a neighborhood you know, to swing by your favorite coffee shop - that sort of nonchalance I feel when I'm going through a place I know and it seems everyone else is too. I didn't personally feel like that- the language barrier makes it a little hard for me to -but it was the vibe I was getting from everyone else. I might be the odd tourist interrupting the status quo by taking photos of the markets and being the unusual foreigner in their midst - but something about the daily routine was palpable. 

Too often when traveling it seems the foreigners don't actually see the place they're meant to be seeing. We see sights, monuments, the predictable photo ops and so forth, but we don't see the place for what it is to those who live in it. I don't think I've seen that side of Bishkek yet. I doubt I will given that at some point I'm going to have to dash out to Kazakhstan to pick up a car for work - and these things take time to see. But at least I am aware I'm not seeing it all? 

It took me a long time to find my niche in Santa Barbara. It took me a while to feel the comfortable familiarity and feel like I could give a recommendation as to where to eat or what to see. And I feel like even then whether there or at home in the Bay Area - I feel like I can't give those recommendations. I know where I like to hang out, where I like to go, but it strikes me as odd to think of traveling and finding the right places to see to make a place reveal itself when I don't even know if I know those places at home. 

I wonder if someone else was standing in my sandals they'd feel the same. Or how very different they'd see the same sights. I was reading my coworker's blog and it struck me how poetic her reflections were - and seeing the same sights I saw no poetry. There's no hint of nostalgia for me in the scents of the streets.   This place reminds me of India - without the Indians, without the crowds, without the scent of sandal wood and the noise of people. It feels quiet. It's not some place lost in the past though - there's still net cafes and children growing up, couples getting married in Victory Square, life being lived. But it still feels like life on the edge. Somewhere in the vast part of the planet without the superpower mentality, where the recycling bug hasn't hit, where the trash is still burnt, where the people are hospitable and the pace of life is less frantic. 

It's also a place where it seems saunas are expected to have prostitutes, corruption is normal within politics, the kids play with mock AK-47s in addition to their stuffed toys, and the Americans and Russians have their military bases and their power can be felt in ways big and small. The super market had boxing gloves with the stars and stripes on them in the toy section. The good quality goods are from Turkey and the poor quality is brought from China. And I'm an oddball American in the midst of it. 

Perhaps it is good that my reflections tend to be more regurgitation in visual form - photos rather than words. For regardless of the number of posts I seem to have churned out I feel like I haven't had any meaningful reflection nor have I had a genuine enough opening into the Kyrgyz lifestyle enough to be making those reflections/judgements/etc...  I've just been in the midst of them as they live their lives and wondering what I'm doing with mine. 

Day of Rest

Today is the first official rest day since I arrived. As such I have had an incredibly exciting day... resting actually. I woke up with the call to prayer, thanked god that I could sleep in, rolled over and went back to bed. And then proceeded to sleep some more. Periodically I would wake up, say to myself, 'Why bother?' and return to sleeping. I guess the degree of jet lag and the mosquito attacks at night have been taking their toll on me as I was able to fall asleep again and again even when the sun had risen and the traffic on the streets of Bishkek peppered the air with the sound of horns.

If Bishkek had a few million people more, it might feel like India - but it's surprisingly quiet for a capital city. Not sure what my plans will be for the rest of this day of rest - but I hope to go out exploring or at least see some of the city beyond the few block radius of the flat. Right now there is a car driving past trying to disprove my theory that Bishkek has been rather quiet by blasting its horn as it goes past - and it's interesting how clearly the doppler effect can be noticed. Anyways - if you're in or around Bishkek with recommendations let me know - otherwise I'll likely continue my day with a trip to Ala Too Square or an internet cafe or something of that nature.

World War II - The Great War - Wartime Medals and Me? Just Watching.

World War II. The Great War. THE War. It is one of those things that lingers in the mind not just because of the scale, but also because of the landscape of the last few months. One simply cannot cross Europe via road without being struck by the way each country was impacted by the war. Whether the lingering burns on the buildings of Dresden, the holes in brick walls of concentration camps marking the planned atrocities and people lost to hate, or the epic sculptures trying to make sure we never forget - the war is still so very present. 

But today was a different sort of feeling as I went to the garage at Dasmia to repaint part of one of the rickshaws and saw a political party (literally - a politician hosting a party....) filled with military men wearing their medals. When I asked one of the girls who'd be sent to take us to the garage about it, she replied the medals were most likely from the Great War or the war in Afghanistan. These men have aged well - standing with strong posture and the sort of dignity that says I'm proud to be in this uniform. And almost all the men there, whether in army green uniforms or suits had chests full with ribbons and medals. I don't even know what to think, but it certainly makes one think. Especially with American troops still in Afghanistan and having only recently have been in Europe it seems the war's physical presence has yet to vanish from living memory. The sterilized list of facts from history texts seems inadequate to describe the contrasts between the black and white text and the proud men of different nations each carrying their own memories of what the war was for and what it meant. 

I didn't actually get to talk to the men, I continued with my task of painting an auto-rickshaw, but as I heard classical music coming through the clear air my thoughts lingered on the guests on the other side of the garage. I wonder what they would think of an American or a Brit in their midst. Driving home and going past Victory Square - the World War II monument in Bishkek where many weddings happen in the presence of the eternal flame- it struck me how deep the connection is. So deep that it's normal for couples to go on their wedding day to remember the war and the national identity they protected as a soviet state. I don't think that would ever happen in the US. The World War II memorial is stoic and the gray stone is somber and asks for stately respect, rather than focusing on personal sacrifice as the statues at Victory Square do. Anyways, just food for thought, I don't know enough to have a real opinion on the matter yet, but I do hope to learn more while I'm here.  

Random Photos from Bishkek

My New Career Back-up Plan: Drive an Auto-Rickshaw

It’s been a long day here in Bishkek.

I’d say I woke up early, but that would imply I went to sleep at a reasonable hour and it was the wake up time that was problematic. Instead I didn’t fall asleep till past 6:30 am due to problems with mosquitoes being too fold of me for my liking. Thus at 10 am when the crew was beginning work in the office (which is in the same flat I’m staying in) I was exhausted and spacey.

After some work round the office we went out to the garage where the auto-rickshaw is being stored only to be told the key wasn’t there. So while Max and Sophie went to run errands Rosie and I painted stakes with numbers which we’ll later use to mark shots before a Kok Boru match (goat polo for those unfamiliar with the Kyrgyz game – I’ll admit I know only little more about it… ) Eventually the man in charge of the garage returned with the keys and we were able to open it up and I got to see our rickshaw for the first time. Radegund as it is apparently known… Norse for “chariots of fire” our producer later informed me. I’m not quite on that level of familiarity with the rickshaw to be calling it by it’s name – and Radegund doesn’t roll off the tongue that easily, so I’ll stick to rickshaw for now.

When Sophie and Max arrived back bringing with them counter weights for the crane I got a pseudo work out aiding them in unpacking them. But following that came the real adventure: driving lessons. While I have both my car and motorcycle licenses- an auto-rickshaw is uniquely different. With three wheels the balance is quite different, and the challenge of steering to avoid potholes is a bit more complicated than when in either a car or on a bike. To begin release the hand break and press with the left hand the starter button (the intimidating lever to the left that acts as the starter in most auto-rickshaw has been replaced by a much simpler automatic starter) while you rev the engine with the throttle on the right. The clutch and gears are controlled by the left hand, but the gears are rather sticky and the clutch is a bit jumpy which combined with the engine (think lawn mower status) sound of tuktuktuktuk makes you very aware of the road as there is a cadence accompanying the journey.

Due to the fact that I own and drive an automatic car at home and haven’t been on my motorcycle in a while (whoops for breaking my foot – that was a bad call) the clutch coordination was a little less than ideal. But the bigger worry for me was going out of the parking lot and instantly being on the streets of Bishkek. I’ve never driven in Bishkek before and I’m sure navigating would have been stressful even in my own car, but in a first time drive in an auto-rickshaw with the locals laughing, waving, taking photos and even children and dogs occasionally chasing us as I drove along…. this was definitely a new experience. Luckily for me the Kyrgyz habit of not following specific lanes and just driving where there is space makes it very easy to drive with the flow of traffic. The small size of the rickshaw combined with people being curious and slowing down around me allowed me a greater maneuverability than in a car – which proved quite advantageous.

As an added bonus, when returning I realized – I just navigated through the center of town on main roads filled with traffic, pedestrians, minibuses and cabs in the capital of Kyrgyzstan. So while I might be a little nervous about the traffic here, that is normal. Any city would do that to a first time driver in an unfamiliar vehicle. And once we set out we’ll have open roads ahead of us without the bustle of city traffic at every corner. And once we’re in gear, puttering along at speed (no clue what speed, the speedometer is broken/unplugged) it’s actually quite fun. Maybe this is just due to the novelty value of driving a red auto-rickshaw in a foreign country where they’re unaccustomed to seeing one, and maybe this is due to the actual joy of driving it – but regardless the road ahead will continue to be foreign and the nerves will wear off – and now that I’ve actually driven it, I’m looking forward to driving this rickshaw to England with the crew.

Dear Mosquitoes - please bugger off

It's near 5:20 am in Bishkek and I can't sleep. I'm exhausted and have been trying to get rest for the past few hours but I keep having mosquitoes land on me, either be about to bite (at which point I roll over to swat them) or they actually bite (at which point a fierce itchy begins and I must use all my discipline to not scratch).

The cold that initially greeted me upon my arrival here has lifted, and given that I do not want to invite further mosquitoes into the flat by opening window that lack screens, I find the air retains much of the warmth from the day. This would be rather pleasant if I wasn't wearing long pants, a long sleeved shirt and socks in my effort to cover as much skin as possible to avoid them. Even those efforts however are somewhat in vain, these mosquitoes are large and persistent and not to be discouraged by things like a mere layer of fabric or mosquito repellent. I think they welcome the challenge. I've gotten bites between my toes, on my fingers, on my face and anytime I roll up my sleeves I find their marks greeting me. As such a thick blanket is welcome as it provides enough of a barrier that I don't get bitten. It also is really warm. And as someone who usually craves feeling the cool side of the pillow, this is rather counterproductive to the other current aim of sleep. I've yet to figure out an effective balance.

Prior to tonight I was at a hotel two blocks away which magically had no mosquitoes and also because their window faced away from the mosque, the complimentary 5:30 am wake up call could be avoided. It seems out of the crew I am the favorite for the mosquitoes as they flock to bite me while they merely buzz around the others lazily. Not sure why but I'm not flattered by their attention. It is most unwelcome. Anyways, I'm going to try to sleep a little bit before the flat gets filled by the rest of the team beginning work in a few hours. Luckily during the day the mosquitoes seem a little less active than during their night time raids, so perhaps I can try napping then?

By the way - the score of Mosquitoes Urvi Has Killed versus Bites Urvi has Received started at 3:7 when I began this post. The score is now 6:7. I'm catching up. If you try to bite my face, I will kill you. I am not above smacking myself in the face to avoid scratching my face off later. Just saying.

You should keep a blog

So you're going to WHERE? For how long? Wow. You should keep a blog.

I don't know how many times in the last month I've had that conversation. I lost count. And for the most part my mode of thinking fell along the lines of, "Why bother?" It's not that I didn't want to share about my travels or I don't think my life is interesting, Lord knows I'm far too full of myself to not like my life. It's more a matter of thanks to multimedia projects - I feel like my life is slowly going from being a thing I experience to synergy in communicating said activities and stories to becoming a flood of spam no one wants to hear. The overkill of the internet. I have facebook (check my status messages!). I have my photoblog (updated daily with fine art photos!). I have a twitter (TheUrv is being eaten alive by mosquitoes in Bishkek). I'm posting on the TracingTea website (I have a job!). I'm LinkedIn and am losing track of MySpace but bit.ly keeps things neat and tidy as I share things in fewer characters while losing a sense of character while I become a caricature. And for a handful of individuals I write lengthy emails while for the vast majority I fall off the face of the planet as they know it by going to a country they've never heard of/can't pronounce.

And yet - I left last week on Friday, and by Wednesday night I'm realizing... I should keep a blog. Emails while more fulfilling are demanding to the recipient. When I have internet to go to in the evenings I get excited to talk to folks thousands of miles away only to discover their lunch breaks aren't long enough to have a full conversation and while I'm at the end of the work day with stories to share, they need to return to work, to class, to daily life and the work of living. And suddenly my excitement is stunted. I stop in my tracks like a 3 year-old tugging his mother's dress saying "Mommy Mommy Mommy!" and being so excited to share something new that by the time I get someone's attention to ask in a curt, "WHAT?!" I've forgotten what I wanted to share. I'm a stereotypical tourist lost beyond the language barrier and rediscovering the joy and fear of uncertainty and in the cliche way that travelers do when abroad, I just want someone who speaks my language to share the experience with. And I suppose if I keep a blog, I'll get to do that with anyone who wants to share this journey with me.

So.... here we go. The basics. The who, what, where, when, why and wtf of my observations.
Who: Myself. 23 year old recent graduate. Identity to be determined.

What: Traveling with a documentary film crew called Tracing Tea (www.tracingtea.com or www.twitter.com/TracingTea) from Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan to London.

Where: Currently Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan located in the heart of Central Asia - a blackhole on the map where Americans can't navigate. That undetermined land between the Russians and Cold War fears, the Middle East and exploding religious fears, the Gulf and overpriced oil fears, India/Pakistan and the nuke holding nations feuding fears, and China and the fears of changing economic relations... Actually a lot of those fears can be relocated - expanding economies, religions Americans don't get and histories beyond our public school understanding because sound bites are more catchy than understanding. But regardless - in the middle of all these places that tend to be presented as scary others, is a land where the average person has no understanding of. And right now I'm in the center of it. When I told one family friend I was off to Kyrgyzstan he later asked when I was leaving for Crazystan. Probably an apt description of where most people think I am.

When: Now. Last Friday till now. I shall be here until I take a vacation to go to an Indian wedding in Texas (another foreign scary land for Californians) and then will return to Georgia (the country) in October. But I'll be doing this for at least 5 months. Or so the schedule says.

Why: I'm young? I'm foolish? I'm footloose and fancy free? It's a job in film and I'm a Film and Media Studies Major? I don't know. Somehow I volunteered to drive a Land Rover from London to Moscow with a trailer of equipment for a friend I'd met once randomly and this seemed like a great idea for everyone, so they flew me out and paid for my food and lodging while I trucked across a continent. Somehow after a day getting lost in a thunderstorm in the Ukraine where I couldn't speak the language, read the signs and somehow had to play charades to get some men to fix the trailer when it broke down after 8 hours being lost - it seemed like a wonderful idea to accept the job offer in my inbox which extended the insane travel schedule. Honestly it seems like an amazing crash course in cultures, geography, how to work on an ever changing schedule, work hands on with expensive film equipment and get the sort of well rounded education that school didn't provide me with yet. So here I am.

As for the WTF moments, those will be posted as they come. For now, it is late, I am tired and there's more work tomorrow. So until then, I hope you're well and that if you're reading this you comment, email, tweet at or otherwise badger me in English so when I come online at the end of a day being surrounded by unfamiliar and new things, there's something familiar waiting for me.

Farewell,

Another Cliché Traveler Abroad
aka Urvi