Working and Playing

Again, I am finally able to access the blogspot site. Perhaps it is because I am accessing it from Astana. Astana, for the unintiated, is the capital of Kazakhstan. Yes, that Kazakhstan -- insert Borat joke here. To give you some perspective, while Kazakhstan is often portrayed as the most backwater place on earth, for me it is a trip to a big "modern" city. Unbelieveably, there is a T.G.I. Fridays in Astana. I had assumed that this was a local place co-opting the name (intellectual property rights not being honored often in this part of the world). A check of the Fridays website reveals that it is a legitimate franchise. I have also used the internet to locate an Irish pub here in Astana. I very much enjoy soaking in a bit of the ol' sod when in strange cities. I'm looking forward to my visit. I'll try and take some photos.

I have been pretty busy lately meeting with small prosecutor's offices around Kyrgyzstan. For a couple of the offices, I was able to get some equipment (computers, printers, etc.) to replace the items looted or burned on April 7th. For the rest of the offices, I was able to procure digital cameras and some digital camcorders so that these small prosecutor's offices can use them to preserve their criminal investigations. These prosecutors have never had this type of equipment. One prosecutor showed me his small out-of-date cell phone which he used to take very grainey photos when absolutley necessary. Another told me how a major land confiscation investigation was thwarted when the town photographer was unable to help him because he was photographing a wedding. It felt great to help these offices out in a fairly simple manner. Also, each office demonstrated Kyrgyz hospitality in their own way. One insisted we toast with fresh from the horse Kumis. Kumis is fermented mare's milk which every Kyrgyz will tell you is full of vitamins and will cure whatever ailes you. What they will not tell you is that it tastes like sour milk which was mixed with the sweat from the inner thigh of a race horse. Other prosecutors took us to lunch or dinner. Even the smallest office gave me about 5 gallons of juice made in his village. It was clear that they were incredibly grateful.

Summer here has been awesome and it has not been all work for me. It has not rained in the last two months. Every day is sunny without a hint of humidity. Recently, some friends and I took the opportunity to do some whitewater rafting on the Chui River. It was a great day and a lot of fun. The entire rafting trip (about 3 hours on the water) and the transportation (1 1/2 hours each way) cost about $30. Can't imagine what it would have cost in the States. I am looking forward to doing it again soon, as well as an expected horseback riding trip in the mountains.

Frick n' Frack

I returned from Tajikistan and had two dogs, not one. I knew it was coming, but it is weird having TWO little guys following me around no matter what I do. Our friends (who were teachers at the International School in Bishkek) went back to the U.S. and when you are overseas you have to help each other out whenever you can. Fortunately, these two are inseperable. It is pretty amazing to watch two dogs share a bowl of food without any growls or biting. As you can see they also share the couch quite nicely.

Frankly, the worst part of it is for me trying to get used to Boone's nightime activities. He shakes his ears and paces quite a lot. Boone is eleven and may actually be more set in his ways than I am. The REALLY hard part is sharing a bed with two semi-large dogs who feel that the entire bed is theirs, not mine. A bit crowded indeed.

Tajikistan

Some photos from Dushanbe

I realize it has been a while since I posted anything, but it was not because of laziness. For whatever reason, every time I have tried to log into blogpot to post an update it refuses to grant me access. It is not just this blog, but it also prevents me from reading other blogspot blogs.

In any event, as many of you are aware the past few weeks have been a very turbulent time in the southern part of Kyrgyzstan. Thousands have been killed and hundreds of thousands have fled to Uzbekistan. There are widespread reports of ethnic cleansing of Uzbeks by roving bands of Kyrgyz, and systematic rape of Uzbek women by these same gangs. The fighting and gunfire has not reached Bishkek, but the events certainly demonstrate that the interim government has little to no control over the country.

While all of this was going on, I was asked to attend a conference in Dushanbe, Tajikistan. I've already written about the scary plane ride to Osh, multiply the fear factor by one hundred and that is what the flight from Bishkek to Dushanbe is like. The entire flight is over a series of mountain ranges. It is very warm here and extremely warm in Dushanbe. As the hot sun hits the remaining snow and glaciers on the mountain peaks, thick clouds form just above the mountains. It is a thrilling two and a half hours when you intermittently emerge from the dense clouds to find that you are barely clearing the mountains in this ancient propeller plane. The only airline that flies the Bishkek to Dushanbe route is "Tajik Air." I'll have to wikipedia it sometime, but I believe they have about five airplanes that are currently capable of flight. The words "Tajik Air" on the side of the plane had been hand painted and appeared quite crooked. I really wanted to take a photo of the plane, but Tajikistan is not the kind of place where one starts snapping photos without permission, especially at the airport.

Dushanbe is a small and very hot city. There is one western hotel, the Hyatt. I must say it was actually a very nice hotel. The city does not have much to offer. I did a little walking around and found a great Indian Restaurant which was cheap and delicious. It was called the "Dehli Darbar." Remember that name because they are apparently franchising. According to their menu they also have a restaurant in Kabul, Afghanistan. Should you find yourself in either Kabul or Dushanbe I highly recommend the Lamb Tikka Masala, some naan, and a cold Baltika 7 (Russian beer).

The conference was good. Mainly a discussion of the legal problems in the five main Central Asian countries (name them all and win a prize).

The plane ride back was horrendous for more reasons than just the fear of crashing into a mountain. It was about 90 - 95 degrees in Dushanbe. The plane was absolutely packed with people, many wearing jackets and sweaters in the stifling heat. After spending an hour in line at Passport Control watching one border guard barely work while five others watched from their booths (which were closed), I had just enough time to get on the bus which takes you out to the plane. I knew right away on the bus there was going to be an issue. The suffocating stench of body odor had already taken over the bus. We then got onto the plane and discovered that there is no air conditioning or even air circulation system. Do you know what is worse than forty people with body odor? Forty people simultaneously fanning themselves creating a potpourri of stench which I still have not washed off. I realize shorts and a tee shirt are socially unacceptable, but a jacket and a wool hat on a 90 degree day??? WTF!

Recent Hiking / Camping Trip

Some photos from the trip. My favorite is the top one. Guinnes was cold so I lent him my sleeping bag.

Things here are still a bit tense, but lessening so every day. Last weekend Guinness and I took the opportunity to get out into the mountains for a "guy's weekend" with a few friends in Bishkek.

We camped by a cold mountain stream (river) and had a wonderful time despite the off and on mountain rain sessions. Guinness had a blast and could not move for three days after he got home.

Uncertainty Continues

Some interesting photos which depict what has been going on here.

Uncertainty continues to rule the day here in Kyrgyzstan. Irene, Guinness and I are back at the house for now, but that appears capable of changing at any moment. I would not be shocked if we found ourselves back at the Transit Center (military base) in the next few days. There have been sporadic outbursts of violence from groups just outside of Bishkek. Unfortunately, five demonstrators were shot and killed and over one hundred arrested yesterday in a town just outside Bishkek. Earlier, they had been marching through Bishkek, until they were met by the mayor who gave them some empty promises which surprisingly turned them around.

My Kyrgyz colleagues seem to think that these types of incidents will continue for the next few weeks and/or months. The new government seems incapable of getting total control over the security situation here which is a problem. Only time will tell what is in store for Kyrgyzstan I guess.

The U.S. government has authorized voluntary departure for employees and family members who wish to do so. The final decision has not been made, but I suspect that Irene and Guinness will be heading to Cincinnati for at least thirty days compliments of Uncle Sam.

On a positive note, the weather is gorgeous this time of year. The mountains look amazing and it is warming up into the 70s. Those cafes which are brave enough to put out their furniture serve as a nice dining spot in the evenings.

Doing well ...

Just a quick update to let you know that we are doing fine. We have moved out of the city to "an undisclosed location." The dog is with us and everything is okay. We are being told this is a precautionary move. I would say it is an asinine move since the first two night of the revolt were the worst and things are really quite calm in Bishkek now. Nothing like taking precautions after all real danger has subsided.

A Tense Day and Night

Today there were major protests here in Bishkek. It is being reported that as many as 50 people are dead and hundreds have been injured. There are several government buildings burning around town, including the Prosecutor General's office which is one block from our house. We are only two or three blocks from the protests shown in this video. I don't know what is going to happen tonight or tomorrow, or if this will result in a change in the government. The opposition has taken control of the media and is running revolutionary speeches and video of the protests.

The Chinese say "may you live in interesting times" I think this qualifies.

We are fine for now and Guinness is dealing with the constant sounds of explosions and gunfire with a quite dignity.

What a Long Strange Trip its Been ...

Documentation of my completely destroyed luggage. Picture all of my clothes falling out and you get the idea.

I don't even know where to start on this one. On Saturday I travelled four hours to Almaty, Kazakhstan so that I could fly Lufthansa direct to Frankfurt and then on to JFK. Kazakhstan is crazy expensive -- go figure. At the Holiday Inn in Almaty you can buy a $25 hamburger. I went across the street to a "supermarket" and found some cheese, crackers and a bag of peanuts which set me back around $15. At around 2:00 a.m. I took a cab to the airport to catch my flight.

Things started out well when the gate agent was able to get me into an exit row which was in the middle of the plane by the flight attendant area. Tons of leg room and an uneventful flight.

When I arrived in Frankfurt, I wanted to go see the animal holding area, but was unable to get transportation out there just for a look. For whatever reason, however, the Lufthansa employees with whom I was speaking took me into the VIP lounge and allowed me use the phone. They left, I stayed. Not a bad way to kill five hours.

Karma is a bitch and the universe got back at me in a rather large way. When I went to the gate to board the next leg of my flight to JFK, I was told that the only seat available was a middle seat. I got to my seat and tried to get some sleep. That didn't work so I ended up talking to my seatmates. The guy in the window seat was a German translator going back to the states for a visit, and the woman on my right was a college student returning from a friend's wedding in India. We talked, ate our meals, etc. over the next few hours. With about six hours left in the flight the guy in the window seat reached over and ran his hand up my thigh. Not accidentally mind you, I'm talking about a full massage of my leg. I ripped off my headphones and said "whoa, what the f*$@ was that!!!!!!!" He recoiled and said something about having a dream. I sat there stunned. In retrospect I should have demanded that the flight attendant move me to business class (all the seats in coach were taken). The next six hours were about as uncomfortable as six hours can be. I'm still in disbelief.

Finally, when I got off the plane and made it to the baggage claim area I was greeted with a bag which was ripped open with my clothes, dress shirts, etc. exposed to the filthy baggage carousel. I went to the Lufthansa offices and plopped the bag in front of the woman's desk. After hearing the four people in front of me complain about their luggage being lost, it was my turn. I pushed the bag forward with my foot as the woman looked at it, looked at me, and said "what can I help you with?" I stared in disbelief as I sarcastically explained that my bag was slightly "damaged." She gave me some paperwork to fill out so that I could request that the airline pay for a new bag. She then had the nerve to ask me why I put the tape on the bag. It took everything I had to keep from blurting out "where the f@#$ would I have gotten tape? And if I had had tape I think I could have done a better job than this mess."

I then took a $60 cab ride to my hotel. About three hours later, food poisoning hit me and I have alternated between the bathroom and the bed for the last two days simultaneously battling food poisoning and jet lag.

I can't wait for the trip back to Bishkek. What the hell else could happen? I guess the moral of the story is that scamming your way into the VIP lounge can have major negative karmic implications.

Minor Earthquake

5.0 Mb - KYRGYZSTAN
Preliminary Earthquake Report
Magnitude
5.0 Mb
Date-Time
• 2 Mar 2010 01:55:39 UTC
• 2 Mar 2010 07:55:39 near epicenter
• 2 Mar 2010 01:55:39 standard time in your timezone
Location
42.542N 75.584E
Depth
17 km
Distances
• 77 km (48 miles) ESE (119 degrees) of BISHKEK (Frunze), Kyrgyzstan
• 132 km (82 miles) NNW (345 degrees) of Naryn, Kyrgyzstan
• 136 km (85 miles) SW (235 degrees) of Almaty, Kazakhstan
Location Uncertainty
Horizontal: 14.6 km; Vertical 5.7 km
Parameters
Nph = 78; Dmin = 42.3 km; Rmss = 0.80 seconds; Gp = 86°
M-type = Mb; Version = 6
Event ID
US 2010tiaf

Probably a touchy subject given all of the human misery that has been caused by earthquakes in the past few months, but we lived through our first one the other morning. Just rattled the furniture a bit. Irene slept through it for the most part, until I said (as I was tying my tie in the shaking mirror) "holy crap, an earthquake." By the time Irene was awake enough to ask if she should get under a door frame the shaking had been over for quite a few seconds.

Life in Bishkek

Manty with Sour Cream in the top photo. Laghman (on the left) in the bottom picture.

We are a little over a quarter (or an eighth depending on what the future holds) of the way through our time here in Bishkek, and I thought it was time for a few comments on the peculiarities of life here. Because I know that you are all waiting on pins and needles for the spring thaw so that you may book your airline tickets to Kyrgyzstan for a visit. Here are a few helpful tips on life here in Bishkek.
Be prepared to eat loads and loads of Laghman and Manty. Every restaurant serves them and they are sure to cross your plate at some point, especially if you go out in a group with at least on Kyrgyz person in it. Laghman is a mixture of noodles, vegetables and some type of meat, often with a good dose of oil thrown in for good measure. It is the Kyrgyz national dish and is actually quite tasty although I’m not sure how some people manage to eat it every day. Manty on the other hand are an acquired taste. They are golf ball sized dumplings which contain a mixture of onion, mutton and mutton fat. The mutton and mutton fat are placed into the dumpling cold and as the manty cook the fat dissolves a bit. The ratio to mutton and mutton fat is about one to one, so when you bite into it a nice stream of liquefied fat shoots out. I’ve already stained a couple of suits and ties that way. The Kyrgyz love them and tend to look at me with disgust as I try to separate the pieces of fat from the mutton. The fat is considered a treat here and I am committing some type of mortal sin when I do this, but four out of five cardiologists recommend avoiding large chunks of fat for their patients who chew fat – so I abstain. Chunks of fat find their way into a lot of dishes over here, so be prepared to discreetly spit into quite a few napkins.

Then there are the cell phones. There are only a few cell phone companies here in Bishkek and the standard phone that is carried by 99% of the people here including Irene and myself are made by Nokia. So if 99% of the people have the same phone, about 80% percent of the people have the same annoying “Nokia” ringtone. No matter where you are or what you are doing, if you hear the “do-do-do-doo, do-do-do-doo-do, diddle doo-do-do-doo” every person within one hundred feet digs for their phone and then looks around to see who the bastard who actually received a call was. There are also absolutely no social taboos about using a cell phone here. Talk where you want. At a funeral and need to reach out and touch someone? No problem, dial away it won’t bother anyone here. It is also COMPLETELY acceptable to answer your phone under any situation. In every high level meeting I have been in, the Kyrgyz right down to the most junior member of the meeting will pause mid-word and answer his phone as we all sit and wait for him to finish his sentence after he talks to his girlfriend or wife, or whomever. I kid you not when I tell you that I sat in on court one day and watched as the prosecutor answered his phone in full voice as the judge was questioning a witness. He talked for the better part of a minute before getting back in the game – truly amazing. I pictured how that would fly in a courtroom in the States “ladies and gentlemen of the jury, all the evidence points to one person as the heinous murderer ...( do-do-do-doo, do-do-do-doo-do, diddle doo-do-do-doo) Hello, yeah, I’m kinda busy with my closing argument, why? What’s up? The County Clare, huh? …. Yeah, probably. He did? Well what did he say? Yeah that’s cool. Listen, the creepy looking lady with the lazy eye in the second row who is probably voting ‘not guilty’ is looking at me funny, so maybe I should go … Sorta, I mean what’s the difference between cross-eyed and lazy eyed anyway? Oops, now she’s pissed ... gotta go!”

Then there is the change situation. It typically goes like this ANY TIME I make a purchase here. The calculator or cash register will read something like “278 com (Kyrgyz currency).” I will hand the sweet young Kyrgyz lady a 500 com note. She will look at it as if it fell in the toilet. She will turn back to me and say in Russian “Вы имеете точное изменение?” I will say “nyet” because I know she is asking for exact change and I have a hard enough time doing math in English, let alone Russian. She then replies “Почему вы имеете точное изменение?” I say “nyet” again because I’m still not doing the math. She then curses at me “Дайте мне *#$%& точное изменение прежде чем я stomp на ваших тестикулах?” and reluctantly gives me my change which may or may not be rounded up or down depending on the lunar alignment. I have asked my Kyrgyz colleagues about the unnatural national obsession with exact change and they have no explanation for it. It is virulent and universal here for whatever reason. It is often augmented by the fact that they dislike “big bills,” in most cases a 500 com note (about $12). This is far more understandable given the low cost of most things here, but still annoying none-the-less.
Getting back to food for a moment, be prepared to order approximately 53 seconds after receiving your menu. This applies whether the menu is in Russian or English. Speaking of which, the English used in the menus here is hilarious. They are almost as hard to decipher as the Russian. My personal favorite is “herring under a fur coat.” Not quite sure what that is, but how can you not be intrigued by that visual? You also have to understand that the food does not necessarily come in any order or follow any logical pattern. When the food is ready it comes out. Some people eat and others wait. Appetizers may come after your main course and vice-versa.

And, finally, there are the street dogs. They are everywhere and you can hear them barking all over town at night. They come in every shape and size. They are filthy and run down by life on the street, but it interesting as hell to watch them as they dodge people and traffic while keeping an eye out for food. That is until they form a pack and chase you down the street in the middle of the night. I’m sure it must have been hilarious to watch these knee high mutts chasing me down the street barking wildly as I wildly flailed my arms to make them scatter a bit. I was about two inches from rabies at several different points during my run towards the house.

So there you have it, a few helpful tips for getting by on the other side of the planet.

Ош

This past week I travelled to the second largest city in Kyrgyzstan to oversee a Tax Evasion and Money Laundering program being put on for the prosecutors in the southern region of the country. The city is Ош (pronounced "Osh"). While it may be the second largest city in the country, it makes Green Bay look like New York by comparison. There are two ways one can get to Ош. You can drive for thirteen hours through steep winding roads and a single mountain pass which may or may not be closed depending on the weather, or you can fly for 55 minutes. It seemed like an easy choice up until the moment I got to the airport.

Upon arriving at the airport things were going really well. We were on time and even found a non-smoking waiting room which is a rarity in this part of the world. As we waited for our flight to depart I looked out at U.S. Air National Guard planes which were waiting to be loaded with supplies for our troops in Afghanistan. I thought about my flights in and out of Iraq in similar aircraft. While I was daydreaming, I blinked and the next time I re-focused on the planes they had disappeared in a dense fog. It had gone from beautiful to crappy in about thirty seconds. I knew we were not flying out to Ош that night. Of course, it took about another two hours for someone with the airline to officially cancel the flight.

The next morning I awoke and it was still a bit foggy, but I was fairly sure that we would fly out that morning. We went to the airport and did the same routine as the night before. Unlike in the States, however, when there are cancelled flights things work a bit differently. As you know, in the U.S. when a flight is cancelled due to poor weather the airlines re-book passengers on a different flight. Here they tell you to return with your ticket and wait for your flight to take off in the order that it was cancelled. So if you were the third flight in line prior to the flight being cancelled, you will be third the next day as well. As we were waiting for our flight which was third or fourth in line, I was grabbed by my Kyrgyz colleague and told to quickly get in line and "cash in my ticket." Apparently there were six open spots on a flight that was leaving in a matter of minutes. Somehow we simultaneously checked our bags, cashed out our old tickets and purchased new tickets. No extra charge, no need hassle, and apparently this is a common practice. It has been many many years since I actually had anything other than an "e-ticket," so it took me back a bit to a time when having an actual airplane ticket meant something.

As I was feeling the nostalgia of carbon copy tickets and no fee airlines, I got my first look at the airplane. The plane made me think of times gone by as well, like the late 1960's when I was about -5 years old. I'm not sure what caught my attention first, the somewhat warped propellers, or the engines behind them which were black with many decades of smoke and oil accumulation. As I climbed the fold out stairs and ducked my head to get inside I saw about four or five holes in the fuselage which had been patched and painted over. Upon entering the plane I was hit with the strong odor of gasoline and exhaust. I went to sit in my seat and put my laptop in the overhead compartment. There was a mean looking "Babushka" (grandmother/old lady) in my seat and there were no overhead bins, just a rack like one might find on a bus or train. Despite showing her my ticket and having my colleague address her in Russian, this Babushka apparently liked seat 9 D and was not going without a fight. My colleague asked if I would just sit in a different seat. Of course this was fine until the next angry Babushka came and wanted to sit in her seat, which was now my seat. Finally, after bouncing around a bit someone convinced this woman that she had to move to her assigned seat. She cursed or something as she pushed past me.

Now I had my seat, and what a seat it was. My seat, along with every other was extremely old and broken. These seats didn't just recline, it was their default position. Picture an entire plane load of people with the head of the person in front of you placed squarely on your lap. Not to mention it was a most uncomfortable position, not quite laying down, but not quite sitting up. As I stared out the bottom of the bubble window (picture the window on the submarine in Disney's 1950's classic 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea) which was now just above my head, I saw a worker pulling some type of machine up to the propeller engine which apparently gave it a jolt and started them spinning despite what seemed like a bit of resistance. I had to wonder if there was another individual with a hand crank in the front.

We set off down the runway bouncing the whole way. I noticed the bald (I don't mean "balding," I mean bald) tires on the landing gear. I also noticed a wire which had detached from something on the landing gear and was now flapping in the breeze. Those of you who know me well know that I really don't have a problem with flying other than on long haul flights where you are trapped in a seat for fourteen hours. My mind rarely ponders things like wings being sheared off, or mid-air explosions. At about ten feet off of the ground I began to worry about wings being sheared off and mid-air explosions. As we flew over the snow covered Tien Shien mountains which were beautiful and majestic I began to relax a little. My mind now wandered to the Uruguayan Rugby team which crashed in the Andes and managed to survive for 72 days by eating their fellow passengers. So while I was still pretty sure we would crash, I chose to see the glass as half-full and was now certain I would somehow find the will to survive and that mean old Babushka was going to be on the menu.

Unbelievably, we landed in Ош about an hour later. I watched as the runway took what was perhaps the final layer of rubber off of the tire beneath my window. I would have kissed the ground, but I had my bag thrown at me from the luggage compartment before I could complete the act. In all, the flight went more quickly than I thought it would. And on the bright side I have discovered that the mixture of fuel and exhaust makes me almost as groggy and passive as Ambien.

The training went well. The flight back was similar only on a slightly newer plane. I would place its construction sometime in the early 1970's. The seats actually worked in this one which was a bonus.

Baby Love

I have found a wonderful volunteer opportunity with a German Non Governmental Organization (NGO) Uplift-Aufwind. I will be going to the local orphanage to do massage on a baby and also will be working with their Mother/Child project to prevent child abandonment. Children in orphanages do not get a lot of bonding time with adults because of the high child to worker ratio. It is reported that many of these children are behind developmentally and some will not even maintain eye contact. The idea is to massage the child at least twice a week to help them bond with adults and experience touch and affection. I will be assigned one specific child so that I will always work with the same one. In this way, the child will learn to anticipate my visit and gain benefit from a routine schedule.

I am also sponsoring a mother through the Mother/Child project. She is a single 19 year old who has a baby about 3 months old. She was considering giving the child up for adoption but Uplift-Aufwind visited her and offered financial support and advice on bonding with her baby. I will sponsor this mother by giving her a certain amount of money each month along with other donations. I followed the Program Manager for a visit to this mother and had the opportunity to see how she struggled with the decision to give her child up for adoption. She seemed very hesitant to bond with her child because she wasn’t sure she wanted or could keep the baby. Even though there was a language barrier, the Program Manager was translating for me. I cannot imagine the weight that was on this girl’s shoulders and what was going through her mind. The Mother/Child project seeks to give these mothers another choice by offering them both financial support and guidance on bonding with their babies. Over here there is not much of a child welfare program so many poor, young, single mothers are left on their own. This particular mother was staying in a home that takes in poor women who are living on the street. When I heard about this project I knew I had to be involved. I am sure that it will be challenging at times but will also carry many rewards. I will keep you updated and will post pictures if possible.

Russian Snack - by Irene

Dan and I went out for drinks the other night and stopped at an interesting bar next to the Russian Embassy. The place had a post modern feel with blue neon lights shining. Almost like an American diner renovated with a 1950s vibe. The waitresses were in sky blue outfits that made them look like old fashioned stewardesses, complete with the pillbox hat (although minus the friendly skies attitude).

The item on the menu that caught Dan’s eye was the “Russian Snack”. It was described as salted fish, potato, salted cucumber and mushroom. What we got was about five small pieces of a very salty fish, probably herring, with the skin, slices of boiled potato, pickles and a pile of soft slimy mushrooms. Now, while it may not sound very appetizing, it was actually not that bad. The fish had a strong ocean taste that cut the salt and it went quite well with Dan’s light pilsner beer. Also, I love seafood and have been going through withdrawal while over here, so I welcomed the fishy ocean taste. The boiled potatoes were what you might expect, but the mushrooms were actually what surprised me the most. I normally love mushrooms (the white button kind and portabella). However, these had a slime so thick it mixed with the fish juice which then seeped over to the potatoes. The mushrooms gave off a long snail-like trail when you would put one on your fork. Further, they were impossible to chew, almost like a piece of squid. That was probably the least appetizing part of the whole snack. That being said, the “Russian Snack” seemed pretty popular there. The bar was full of mostly men drinking either shots of vodka or light beer and sharing these snacks. While I can’t say it was my favorite, it wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever put in my mouth – that title goes to liver pate.

Happy New Year

The photos don't really do justice to the scale of the celebration.

Many cities around the world have their unique New Year's Eve traditions. New York has Times Square, Paris fireworks at the Eiffel Tower, and in Milwaukee idiots fire guns in the air and pretend that bullets disappear into the ether. I have to say, however, that I think the coolest New Year's Eve celebration I have witnessed has been here in Bishkek. Yes, Bishkek.

In the past few weeks all over town there have been card tables set out on street corners with Kyrgyz gentlemen selling large colorful sticks about a foot or two in length. I really didn't pay too much attention to it at the time. Come New Year's Eve it became readily apparent that these colorful sticks were in-fact high grade fireworks.

At midnight, all over the city there were extremely loud and colorful fireworks displays. I'm not talking about a few people shooting off bottle rockets and firecrackers in a their neighborhoods. I am talking about industrial grade, professional type fireworks exploding all over the city, everywhere. Whether looking out the front, side, or back windows, it did not matter. They were even going off up by the mountains. If you shot one of these things off in the U.S., or even had one in your possession without an ATF license, you would be arrested on the spot. They are apparently not concerned with burning down the city (given the concrete Soviet style buildings it is probably not a high concern). I watched as some partiers piled out of the nightclub outside the gates of our apartment building, went out into the street filled with cars, and shot off these monsters. Multiply that by about a hundred or two hundred times and that was what Irene and I saw as we hung our heads out the window in amazement. I guess this is a benefit of having a porous border with China. The fireworks went on throughout the early morning and even the next day. I understand we will have another display tonight, which is Russian Orthodox Christmas Eve. I suspect that even though only 20% of the population is Russian Orthodox, the Kyrgyz won't let the opportunity to shoot off some fireworks pass them by.