Christmas

Irene and I celebrated Christmas in Kyrgyzstan by attending Christmas Eve mass at the only Catholic church in the country. The entire mass was in Russian which made things interesting, but fortunately as those of you who are Catholic already know, you can attend mass pretty much anywhere and it is very predictable. Even when you don't know what is being said, you can understand what is going on. The only difference is that here in Kyrgyzstan they do not seem to adhere to the "one-hour-and-I'm-outta-here" rule. So after the children of the parish put on a pretty weird telling of the birth of Christ (if Fellini had directed a church pageant, it would have looked a lot like this), we finally began the mass. Normally, I don't think we would have been so bothered by the time factor, but it was almost eight o'clock before the actual mass started and we had not eaten dinner yet. Since it was a roast, it was getting more and more likely we weren't eating dinner before midnight unless things picked up. They didn't.

The next day we exchanged gifts and went to a colleagues house for Christmas dinner. Nothing too significant happened on Christmas except my Nintendo Wii blew up when I plugged it into the converter which is supposed to keep your stuff from blowing up.

The strangest thing about celebrating Christmas in Kyrgyzstan is that it is just another day for 99.9% of the population. Even the approximately 15% of the population which is Russian Orthodox celebrate their Christmas on January 7th. There are, however, some pretty significant advantages to this set-up. First, there was absolutely no last minute rush at the shops when I went shopping on the 23rd. Second, every business in town is open unlike in the States, so if you need something from the store there is no sense of panic that it is closed (there is, of course, the normal sense of panic that there will not be anything that is recognized as edible). Finally, we went shopping on the 26th and there were no no middle-aged housewives tearing each others' eyes out trying to be the first in the Wal-Mart so they could save fifty cents on wrapping paper. Christmas in Kyrgyzstan has certain advantages.

The above photos probably deserve a little explanation. These decorations have been up for a few weeks now in the center of town. There are also a plethora of young Kyrgyz couples dressed up as "Father and Mother Winter/Christmas" who will allow you to take their picture for 20 com (about fifty cents). While the lights and the decorations may look like an acknowledgement or celebration of Christmas, the trees, lights and snowmen have far more to do with New Year's Eve than Christmas (although admittedly the lines are blurred between the two). Under Soviet rule, religion was banned and, therefore, New Year's Eve took the place of Christmas as the big winter holiday. Gifts are exchanged, vodka is consumed, families get together, etc. Nonetheless, it is nice to walk downtown and see a little bit of holiday cheer.

We hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and has a safe and happy New Year.

A Weekend Getaway Kyrgyz Style

Here are some shots of the mountains along with a local Mosque and a Russian Orthodox Church.

This past weekend Irene and I set off for a weekend of semi-adventure in the Lake Issyk-Kul region of Kyrgyzstan. It was about a six and a half hour drive through considerable mountains and valleys to get to our destination. Although the trip was ostensibly for the purpose aiding in the fight against corruption, I was more interested in seeing Lake Issyk-Kul and the Tien Shen mountain range. We travelled with my fellow DOJ employee and her driver which allowed for plenty of sightseeing without the hassle of having to navigate the mountain roads ourselves.

We stayed in a B&B in the town of Karokol which is situated on the western edge of Lake Issyk-Kul (which by the way is the world's second largest alpine lake). As we approached the B&B I think Irene and I were having the same thoughts as row after row of dilapidated houses appeared before us. We pulled into the drive of the B&B and there were still many questions which had not exactly been answered even by observing the outside of the guesthouse. As we walked inside I knew this could be one long and miserable weekend based on what was waiting on the other side of the door. Much to our relief we found an almost impeccably clean establishment with modern facilities, a nice decor, and hot tea and plenty of homemade baked goods awaiting us. Irene seemed particularly taken by the six different types of homemade jam which Chinara, our host, had placed on the table. Breakfast was quite good with fresh yogurt, eggs, meats, cheeses, and all of the fresh baked goods you could throw down your gullet.

On Saturday, after doing a little work, we were treated by one of our local employees to a traditional Kyrgyz meal served when special guests are around (presumably that was us). As we arrived at the table in a local restaurant we were greeted with assorted fruits, nuts, salads, vegetables, juices, breads, and the omnipresent bottle of vodka. We all declined vodka, which was promptly ignored by our hosts. They asked again if we wanted some vodka. Again we declined. This continued until it became clear that we were not going to win this battle of wills. "Sure, chut-chut ("just a little" in Russian)." Our glasses were filled. Irene wisely mentioned wine just before the vodka hit her glass and received some sort of red vintage. The meal was fantastic. In addition to the aforementioned items we had soup and fish. Thinking that I would drink one swig of vodka and be done with it, I downed the shot in front of me. It was promptly refilled. Mmmmmm, vodka and fish, now that's living. I left my glass full for the remainder of the meal figuring that I would rather be ungracious than puking fish behind a Kyrgyz dumpster.

Just when we all agreed that we could not eat another bite we were informed that the star attraction of the meal and the Kyrgyz national dish "Besh barmak" ("five fingers," i.e. you eat with one hand) arrived. Besh barmak is a mutton or small horse which is cut into five or six pieces depending on your guest list, and distributed by order of seniority and importance of the guests. My DOJ colleague who is older and certainly more important than I was given the first slab of fat and meat. I would approximate it's weight at about 30 - 40 ounces. I then received the back leg and shank of the sheep. There was certainly a lot of meat there if you could perform enough surgery to get through the layers of skin and fat. The round robin continued until the 15 year old brother of our host was served a plate of whatever-the-hell-is-left-over-after-you-slaughter-a-sheep-and-give-out-all-the-good-parts. The besh barmak is not complete until a "broth" of fat is placed next to the animal slab along with a bowl of noodles and .... wait for it ... fat. We were told that tradition does not dictate that you eat the entire thing, just as much as you want. You must, however, take home the (in my case) shank for nibbling later that evening. Also, since we had not finished the vodka we had to take that as well. As we left the restaurant it was comforting to know that if we went off the road and were stranded on a mountain cliff we would have mutton and vodka to sustain us for at least a week or two.

After a fresh evening snowfall, we decided not to chance being stuck in Karokol so we left earlier than planned in order to get back to Bishkek with plenty of time to spare. We stopped along the way to grab some photos of the mountains and the lake. All in all it was a pretty great weekend getaway.

Istanbul and Sofia

A few shots from my trip including the Hagia Sophia, Sultan Mehmet's Mosque, and the Bosporus.

I am a little behind on posts but I am trying to catch up quickly. At the end of November on very short notice I joined my DOJ colleague and some Kyrgyz prosecutors on a trip to Sofia, Bulgaria. In order to join the EU Bulgaria had to transform itself in a very short period of time. Part of the reform was instituting a training center for prosecutors which has become a model for developing nations to follow. It was a very interesting trip and my new Kyrgyz friends and I learned quite a lot.

You can't fly anywhere directly from Bishkek (except Uzbekistan, yikes) so the first stop was Istanbul where we had a 12 hour layover before flying on to Sofia. It worked out rather well since Turkish Airlines offers free city tours to its passengers with long layovers. Not only did we get a daylong tour, but we started with a free breakfast on a rooftop cafe overlooking the Bosporus. We also ended up staying the night in Istanbul on the way back from Sofia which gave us a day and a half to wander around on our own and really get a feel for the place. It is an amazing city -- a perfect blend of Europe and the Middle East. The downtown shopping district is the heart of the city and it is impossible to count the number of outdoor restaurants, cafes and shops which disappear down narrow streets and alleys. Perhaps my fondest memory was being stopped by a policeman for walking down the street with a pocket full of money. Initially I ignored him until he started towards me and spoke loudly in broken English for me to stop. He demanded my passport and wanted to know where I was staying. I told him the name of the hotel which did not seem to impress him too much. Just as the "request" for funds was imminent he glanced down at my diplomatic passport. He then became real silent. He handed it back to me and said "you should be very careful in Istanbul it is a dangerous place." He then turned and walked away. Good fun and frankly it was interesting to have the shoe on the other foot for once (not counting, of course, some minor teenage indiscretions).

Bulgaria ... what can I say about Bulgaria. Well, its not Istanbul and its not Bishkek. To be fair it is a city which is trying very hard to rise to the level of its older EU brethren. We stayed in a beautiful hotel, probably the nicest I've ever stayed in. So nice in fact, they refused to supply an iron or ironing board lest I physically strain myself. They did, however, allow me to have my shirts pressed by a very nice Bulgarian lady for $10 a shirt. I found an Irish pub (really, it found me) with cheap Guinness and lots of British ex-pats, and a Warsteiner German Beer Hall with one of the best pork dishes I've ever eaten (so good I ordered it two days in a row). All in all, not a bad city. Perhaps a few tourism slogans to sum up: "Bulgaria, like Cleveland with an accent." or "Bulgaria, 100% less communism" or "Now European with the papers to prove it."

Incidentally, if you are ever travelling with a group of Kyrgyz who pull out a bottle of Kyrgyz Cognac and insist on drinking every last drop with you, don't bother hand gesturing the need for a bathroom and then attempt to hide in your room -- they will track you down.

Our New Apartment

Some pretty fuzzy pictures, but you get the idea

After about a week and a half of living in our Apart-Otel, we were able to whine our way into a more permanent (although still temporary) living situation. An employee who works for USAID (a government agency working out of the Embassy) had recently left his three bedroom apartment in a great part of town. I begged daily for them (USAID) to sublet the apartment to us since it was likely to be unoccupied for at least the next two months. In true government fashion, no one would make a decision. I pointed out the obvious, that the DOJ was paying $159 a night for us to stay in a dump. They would gladly pay $2000 a month (as opposed to $4770) for the right to sublet the apartment. I further pointed out that USAID would be getting $2000 a month as opposed to paying to keep an empty apartment. More waiting while people checked with their boss, who checked with their boss, who e-mailed their boss, who presumably checked with President Obama. “What if we get a new employee here and they need the apartment?” I was asked. “How long does it take to get a new hire to Kyrgyzstan best-case-scenario”, I replied. “About three months.” “We are moving into a house in January, it is now almost mid-November.” Blank stare. “We will move out” I promised repeatedly. Nothing. Finally, I heard “let me ask my bosses.” A few more days wait while the bureaucrats determined which was a better deal for the US government, saving money and pleasing one of its employees or losing money and making no decision. A few more days. Finally, I can only assume that someone in Washington in the jumble of excitement that is the Veteran’s Day Holiday accidentally said “okay” not realizing he or she was putting their career in jeopardy by making such a bold decision. They were probably working in the mail room when they returned. Who cares, we had the apartment.

You could easily fit our house in Milwaukee into this place and have room left over for the garage. In addition to a large great room, there is a modern kitchen with both a gas and electric range. There is a master bedroom and bath, a second bedroom, and a second bath as well. The third bedroom functions as a large den with a desk, filing cabinets and a large sitting area. The apartment is completely furnished with nice furniture. There is a huge dining room table in addition to the kitchen table. There is a washer and dryer as well. The building is gated and there is a guard on duty 24/7. He’s usually asleep, but a deterrent none-the-less. There is also a heavy steel door with at least seven locks and a burglar alarm. Probably way more than is necessary, but nice for peace of mind. We have a parking space but no car yet. It is a pretty great apartment in a nice part of town.

Our Arrival

These are pictures Irene took of the view outside our temporary apartment, and the rock hard bed we slept on inside said apartment.

Irene and I left Chicago at about 10:30 p.m. on October 29th and after a four hour layover in Istanbul, we arrived in Bishkek at 5:25 a.m. on October 31st. We were quickly whisked into the “VIP” room at the Manas Airport. VIP is apparently a relative term based on where you are in the world. On the bright side there was a comfortable couch to sit on and we could smoke as much as we wanted. Of course, this is Central Asia so you could smoke in a lung cancer ward and not get a second look. Anyway, we waited while our passports were perused by the local officials. Having been exposed to the concept of handing your passport over to random semi-official looking people while travelling in and out of Iraq, I was not all that concerned with the transaction. Irene on the other hand (rightfully so) seemed a little taken aback at the concept. After about 45 minutes, our bags (which had been thoroughly searched (see also “ransacked”)) by one or many government bureaucrats at the airport were finally brought to us. We were taken into town by one of the local national employees who works at the Embassy. We arrived very tired at our temporary apartment hotel or as the Kyrgyz call it “Apart-Otel” which is probably more fitting since it was barely an apartment and not much of a hotel (leave the “H” off for “Housekeeping”). I recall cheerfully telling Irene and the FSN “oh, this is nice.” I’m pretty sure only one of them agreed. The other was staring a hole through my brain.

We slept most of the day but rallied to meet my fellow DOJ employee for dinner. The food was surprisingly good. Irene and I both had Chicken Kiev and I had a bowl of Borscht as well. Both were excellent and although rather cliché they hit the spot.

On Sunday, we again met my co-worker Nancy for a walking tour of the city. It was sunny and 70 degrees as we toured the many parks and wide avenues in Bishkek. It was a pretty strange feeling to walk along the soviet named boulevards and to see the buildings adorned with the hammer and sickle insignia. I think we both especially enjoyed the statue of Vladimir Lenin outside the old parliament building. I wish we had taken photos, but we were so out of it we both forgot the camera. After stopping at the Hyatt (the western style hotel in Bishkek) for coffee, we toured some more before stopping at the Metro Pub for a bit of lunch. Irene had tomato soup and a grilled cheese. I had a “Philly Cheese Steak.” I think we both quickly realized that while the Russian and Kyrgyz dishes might be extremely good and authentic, the local attempts at American favorites are just a bit “off.” Take my sandwich for instance. A good attempt and all, but since when does a Philly Cheese Steak come on a hotdog bun and contain no cheese whatsoever? Aaah, but the prices more than make up for it. Both of our lunches and a few drinks easily cost under $10.

Not everything has been great, however. We are both a little unhappy with our temporary quarters. My biggest problem with it is the lack of hot water (except during the sleeping hours) and the fact that there is not a shower but a Jacuzzi tub and a shower spray. Not even a shower curtain to keep the water in the vicinity of the tub. It is also in a rather busy and congested part of town. Quite the opposite of the other end of town which is more tranquil and residential in nature. If all goes well, we will be moving to a furnished apartment in the better part of town in the next few days.