Meka’s post for Bishkek to Tortogul

Because of Mr. Riches who keeps making me write about this trip, here comes another post from me in this blog.

As you might already know Mr. Riches speaks two and a half words in Russian and Kyrgyz all together, that’s why he is missing some of the things happening around him. I will write about these things.

But first a little advertisement.
Hey guys who are in Bishkek! I lost my watch which my father gave me. I forget it in the village of Sosnovka in the small cupboard next to the bed of the guesthouse we stayed at. The place has no name but it is the only place for tourists over there. At the same time it is a public banya. The owner’s name is Venya. We stayed with two construction workers from Bishkek – Musa and Grigoriy. If you can find the number of this place in the Internet or somehow (we don’t have Russian keyboard) and ask Venya to send my watch to you in Bishkek (I can put money on his phone for mailing it), you will make me happy as no one ever did.

So, Kyrgyzstan. Adam time to time says he feel himself being in another country according to the environment, but for me all Kyrgyzstan seems the same. Third night we spent in a wagon with a lady and her daughter. The lady was about 40 years old. Very melancholic, nice and tired from permanently struggling. Might be drinking hard occasionally. Her daughter was 7 years old. Sweet girl, doesn’t speak Russian, but whole evening watched Turkish serial in Russian on DVD, and was able to tell everything what was going on for the past 40 episodes. Turkish serials are long with a very cliché scenario where everything chewing on and on and nothing really happens. I guess it’s popular here, because things in Turkish serials happens among Kyrgyz people too.

At five in the morning all the wagon (which is a home, a hotel and a shop) woke up because two men came to buy 150 grammes of vodka. They drank it immediately as one shot and went away with the words “Let’s reach our destinations safe” and then they drove their car away.

The next day we met a very rude woman who was an owner of a hotel in the beginning of the second pass. In front of the hotel a drunk, very tanned man with golden teeth (he is not a rapper, by the way, he is a shepherd) came to us to talk. He was nice and gave us pretty exact data of distance to the next city and top of the pass. Then as soon as I enter to the building and asked a housekeeper/waitress about the price for stay, that guy run after me, said I’m with foreigner and price suddenly in one second increased twice and the host didn’t agree to reduce it and said, why I’m trying to save some guy’s money (and not helping to my nation). All conversation was going on with us staying outside in the rain and her staying inside and talking through window, which she shut down with the phrase “This price or nothing”. Then that golden teeth guy went out from the hotel’s restaurant with his friends (all were drunk). One of them insisted us to stay at his home with his children and said sorry for not joining us because he needed to take care of his horse which was tired somewhere in the mountains. The problem was he stayed in Talas and we were heading to Osh. So all those guys drove away and we found another wagon to stay for that night. From this moment we decided that Adam will play a proper Muslim woman and won’t open his mouth until I will negotiate a price. Silent Adam could look like a local Russian, whom people in rural Kyrgyzstan doesn’t love, but at least treat them honestly. During the day a proper Muslim woman is me and I do what I’ve been told.

Often as a Kyrgyz girl it’s hard to explain what you are doing alone with a man. And so here to avoid questions, in rural areas as a person who is communicating with everybody and who doesn’t really enjoy it, I’m telling to people different options of my possible background and look at their reactions. I’ve been a Korean girl, who spent her youth in Tomsk, Russia, I’ve been Adam’s translator and couple times his wife. An old couple whom we met in a cafe had a face expression “Well done, girl!”. The husband of that couple said Adam is a very handsome man: with beard, moustache and glasses. Also they said to name my children with Kyrgyz names. When I asked should I name my son after him and asked his name, he replied his name is Stanin, after Lenin and Stalin. Obviously, the most Kyrgyz names in the world!

The next day we dine with two men and an old very sweet lady whose son is working in BBC radio (as she told us). The lady gave me money and insisted to keep in touch with her grand daughter in London (It was time when I said we are married and I regret it). The lady’s son was married to a Kyrgyz woman and they were staying in London with their daughter. The lady said she is asking her grand daughter to marry Kyrgyz guy. She said English girls will hate me. To my question, why, she replied because English girls will think: “Oh, why you (Adam) married a non English girl? What, couldn’t find any proper girl in England?”. Also she added that all nations think like that and Kyrgyz guys will think like this, too. I asked those two men who were sitting with us and who were very enthusiastic questioning us if it’s true that they are hating me because I married not a Kyrgyz guy. The younger man who was about 30-35 years old said: “Well… a little bit”.

The same day another man asked Adam what he is doing in his life, is he going to lie down on his back, sleep and do nothing till the end of his life after the trip and is he a spy? Then he added is he from FBI?

The fifth and six day we are spending in the glorious city of Toktogul, where are so many birds and all of them all the time from early morning till the late night are making awful noises. It sounds like we are in Hitchcock’s Birds movie. One bird managed with one shot to hit the two of us with good luck.

Last night our neighbours (bunch of women and men) drunk vodka.

Generally riding a bike when I’m not tired is nice. I’m waving to children, getting excited by really big mountains, birds, trees, baby animals or horses. But after 3-4pm I’m getting tired and hate everything. Literally everything. There is no thing which I don’t hate. Even children. Even Adam. First of all Adam. Everything I can think about is when the hell on Earth he will stop today? Maybe now? Oh, not now. Maybe now? What? Not now again? Then all I want is to be left alone. Yes, I will stay here. I will live here. Yes, in the middle of the mountain. I don’t care if there is no electricity and water system, just don’t make me cycle any more. Then I’m not sure if I can feel anything. But once I have a dinner I’m nice, cheerful and ready to ride again.

I caught a cold the day before the trip, now my knees hurt and I literally for the first time in my life have a headache because of the bird’s noise. My ipod saving me. Apart from this and once in a week showers I like to be out of civilisation. It’s much more pleasant to stare at mountains rather than to the screen of a computer.

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