сыром есть? (seerum est?)

Across the street from the school is a samsa stand, where nearly every day I buy a lovely, flaky, buttery pastry filled with cheese. This is known as a самса с сыром (samsa with cheese), or simply "сыром" for short. Every day I go to this stand and ask, "сыром есть?" (Do you have cheese?) because sometimes they've sold out of cheese, and other times the bazaars aren't carrying the cheese they use. The stand is run by a woman and her son, who is probably about 12 years old. The woman has always been friendly, but it took a while for her son to warm up to me, although now he always grins from ear to ear when he sees me. Anyway, a little after 9pm, I was walking to the internet cafe (where I am currently sweating away as their AC is broken and this place has no ventilation), when I heard a shy voice say, "сыром есть?" I turned around and there were the boy and his mother, on their way home, grinning profusely at seeing me in some other context. Totally made my day. Now I'm going to go home and boil some bathwater.

Field Trip to Ala Archa

I went to Ala Archa National Park, just south of Bishkek, back in March with Austin, Kevin and Ben Sr. While the scenery was spectacular, the day was overcast, dreary and cold. In contrast, this past Sunday was warm, sunny and gorgeous. The school decided to take whichever students and teachers were interested to Ala Archa for the day. This wasn’t an English studying excursion, simply a fun in the wilderness kind of day. We chartered a bus for the event, although our bus was... interesting. About halfway to Ala Archa, before we even started to climb in the mountains, some of the students sitting in the back of the bus began to panic and run to the front. Smoke was billowing up into the bus from underneath. The driver pulled over and went and fiddled around under the back of the bus for a while, then we continued on. As our road started to climb, he had to repeat this several times. Luckily, we did make it to our destination.

The last time I went to Ala Archa, we followed the road/trail which leads straight in. This time, we ventured to the right, following a smaller river along a valley for a while, and later climbing up the side of a mountain until we reached a cemetery for fallen mountaineers. We picnicked on a small bench on the mountainside, then descended to spend an hour or so relaxing by the main river while the students played card games and that scary game that involves hurling a volleyball at people.

Further adventures at Dordoi Bazaar

I really cannot ever go back to Dordoi ever again. I am hardly what one would call a shopaholic; in fact, I’m usually pretty cheap. Unfortunately, markets and bazaars just break down my resolve. My previous (and first) trip to Dordoi Bazaar netted me three ridiculous and utterly impractical pairs of shoes. Afterwards I swore that I’d never go back. Apparently I lied.

Last Saturday Katy and I went to Dordoi for the purpose of buying black sandals. I made a point of bringing enough money to cover black sandals, lunch and transportation, figuring that way the massive amount of temptation would be rendered nonexistent. Unfortunately, Katy brought plenty of extra cash and kept saying, “I can pay for it and you can just pay me back.” Really, I can never go there ever again; my salary is too small for this nonsense. But check out what I got, as it’s awesome :-)

What I went there for in the first place...


Some lovely balls to decorate the kitchen...


How 'bout them apples?


And obviously I had to own this...

Café Nooruz (Кафе Нооруз)

Café Nooruz was, until quite recently, my favorite restaurant in Bishkek. Despite its not entirely stunning ambiance, the lagman (a Kyrgyz noodle soup) and shashlik (meat on a stick) was fabulous. Additionally, the fact that it’s located directly across the street from the school means that we go there all the time. And did I mention that it’s super cheap?

The other night, a group of us went there, as we so often do, and promptly ordered mutton shashlik. Soon four skewers of meat arrived at our table, sizzling, fatty chunks of meat, obviously fresh from the grill. Equally obvious was the fact that this meat was by no means mutton.

In many tales I’ve read over the years of visits made by Westerners to the Soviet Union and later to its former republics, I’ve encountered numerous descriptions of “unidentifiable meat” – but in all such tales the “meat” in question has been processed beyond the point of recognition: not only is the species unidentifiable, but whether or not the substance in question is actually *meat* is somewhat debatable.

What arrived at our table was unquestionably meat: large, meaty chunks with ubiquitous clumps of fat, charred and sizzly, adhering to the pieces. What it didn’t look like was mutton; it was too light. It didn’t smell right either. We tasted it and were all in agreement that it was most definitely NOT mutton. Nor was it chicken, beef, pork, fish or venison. I couldn’t stomach it. The others ate theirs, but without pleasure.

When our waitress returned, I asked her what kind of meat it was:

“Mutton.”
“Are you sure? It doesn’t taste like mutton.”
“Of course it’s mutton. We only have mutton today.”
“But this has a very strange taste. It doesn’t taste like mutton.”
/shrug/ “It’s mutton.”

We’ve been back twice since then, and we haven't been able to bring ourselves to order shashlik.

Want to live and work in Korea?

Those of you who have followed my blog for a while know that I spent 13 months teaching English in Daegu, South Korea. Anyway, the school where I taught is currently looking for a new teacher, as one of their teachers will be returning to the US in a couple of months. It's a great place to work and I highly recommend it. If any of you are interested, please leave me a message and I will get back to you with the details.

Candlestick where?!?

Yesterday, when I was in Ramstor (yes, I know...) looking for candles, I came across a candle-holder which drew my attention. Now, here in Kyrgyzstan I generally wouldn't waste money on something as extravagant as a candle-holder. But it involved a lime green frog, and I thought it was cute enough to pick up and take a look at...

Then I turned it over to check the price, and saw something which immediately made me decide to buy it, just so I could take the below photo:

We didn’t need that hot water anyway...

Years ago, when developing their infrastructure, the Soviets decided that hot water would be distributed to everyone from a central source; no one would have their own water heater in their home. Unfortunately, a system as vast as one which supplies piping hot water to the masses must be closed periodically for maintenance. In Russia, they usually do it by region; one neighborhood loses hot water for a week, then regains it as the workers move to a different region of the city. Here in Bishkek, they simply shut off the hot water to the entire city for a full month. The hot water went away last Monday, and there are rumors that the hot water will be off not for a mere month, but until September. Boiled water bucket showers, headscarves (my solution to unwashed hair) and stinky people – woohoo!

There are a lot of rumors about water flying about these days. My student who is a plumber (one might assume he would be in the know regarding such matters) has heard that ALL WATER in Bishkek will be turned off in June. I’ve written about this a little before, but just to refresh your memory: Kyrgyzstan receives most of its electricity via hydroelectric power plants. Since this winter was the coldest in Kyrgyzstan’ recorded history, the Toktogul Reservoir was nearly depleted to provide electricity for heating purposes. Because of this, the reservoir is at record low levels. Additionally, Kyrgyzstan has a trade agreement with Uzbekistan: we give them water and they give us natural gas. If we don’t have enough water to meet the trade agreement, they cut off our natural gas supplies. This is (allegedly) the reason for the (rumored) water shut offs in June. Personally, I’d rather have water than gas; I can always eat shashlik everyday. Anyway, Katy, Ben and I have started hoarding water. It’s probably just a groundless rumor, but I’d rather be safe than sorry!

Additionally, since the bulk of this country’s electricity comes from the aforementioned hydroelectric power plants, our power shortages have worsened. Random blackouts began in February, and in April became regularized; for the past month and a half, the power has gone out (in my block at least) around midnight, and has remained off until around six in the morning. On top of that, we’ve had random day-time power-outages this month as well. At least it makes the days unpredictable...

Meanwhile, please check out this totally cool post on all the nuclear waste dumped/hidden throughout Kyrgyzstan. Doesn’t that just make you feel all warm and fuzzy? Or at least warm and irradiated... Additionally, both Caitlin and Misha sent me the link to this article in the NY Times about rural life here in Kyrgyzstan. I definitely agree that it presents an accurate picture of much of rural life in this country. Although if they *do* cut off water to the city next month, those living in the country - with access to flowing rivers and outhouses - will fare much better than those of us here in a city filled with dry canals and indoor plumbing.

On a completely different note, I’ve been featured on the Everywhere Magazine Blog. Awesome!

Also, in case you’re interested, here’s the current promo-shot of all the teachers (er, minus Matthew for some reason) for the local newspaper. Ben Jr obviously didn’t get the white shirt memo.

Back row: Ben Sr, Joe, Carl
Front row: Katy, Ben Jr, Me
And lastly, as shot of two of the things that, come November, are going to be a challenge to get home:


Grey cat loves my Kyrgyz saddle

The most wonderful/evil place in Bishkek

Just north of the city is a huge market called Dordoi. I put off going there for over four months because I knew exactly what would happen:

Thoughts on Language Acquisition

I was talking to someone the other day (I forget who), and this individual brought up the fact that Condoleeza Rice’s Russian is “so bad.” This person thought it was reprehensible that someone who studied Russian in university spoke the language so poorly. But the thing is, I completely understand.

In order to maintain one’s foreign language abilities, one must constantly practice and study. I received my BA in Russian in 2001. At that time, my spoken Russian, while not fluent, was pretty damn good. However, from Summer 2001 to Summer 2005, I neither practiced nor studied Russian. Additionally, during that time I made two extensive trips to South Korea, traveled all over Costa Rica, and lived in Southern California within walking distance of the Mexican border. By the time I returned to Russia in August 2005, my Russian skills had greatly diminished; I spoke something I referred to as Spanglorusskikonglish.

I was in Russia from August 2005 through June 2006, during which time my Russian language skills returned to roughly the same level they were at my time of graduation. Of course, this was mainly due to the fact that I lived with a host family and took regular Russian lessons, as most of my friends were English speakers.

After leaving Russia, I spent a year in Korea. Despite three trips to Korea, my Korean is still essentially nonexistent. I can order food, purchase things, ask for directions and direct a taxi to my destination. I can even tell people that I’m an English teacher from the United States. But that’s it; that’s the extent of my Korean. Nonetheless, after a year of hearing only Korean spoken (and occasionally struggling to study it), my Russian levels once again dropped.

I came to Bishkek – a predominantly Russian speaking city – in January of this year, and I was pleased to discover that my Russian comprehension was still quite high. Unfortunately, I haven’t gotten much language practice since I’ve been here. In general, my Russian speaking consists of practicalities: ordering food, purchasing things, asking for directions, directing taxis and telling people where I’m from and what I’m doing here. I live alone, don’t have time for Russian lessons, most of my friends are English speakers, and the school’s staff (for the most part) speaks English. Additionally, for most Kyrgyz speakers of Russian, Russian is their second language, and their spoken Russian is often filled with mistakes. (Case endings? Who needs those?)

It wasn’t until my trip to Karakol with Sara and Sasha from Vladimir that I realized just how bad my spoken Russian had become. Our trip was really the first time since leaving Vladimir that I’d had a lengthy conversation in Russian in which I couldn’t cheat by replying in English. The realization of the quality of my spoken Russian – or lack thereof – was hammered home the other night at Anton’s when one of the Russian guys told me, “Your accent is okay, but your grammar is terrible!” Sigh.

I can’t decide how I feel about this.

One of the main reasons I went to Russia in 2005 was to rebuild my Russian so that I could get a job with an NGO working with Russia. However, if you’ve read through my Hermit Manifesto, you know that I completely changed course while in Russia. Now I want to focus on teaching ESL, and eventually, I’ll probably get my MA in Applied Linguistics.

I’m not sure how Russian fits into all of this. As it is, I’m currently trying (albeit not too successfully) to study Kyrgyz, and I’m already planning to teach in the Middle East next year. I’d hate to lose my Russian skills, but I’m not certain that there will be much benefit to knowing Russian in my future, and therefore I’m not entirely sure that it would be worth the effort I’d need to expend to keep it up.

Meanwhile, so many of my students simply don’t seem to understand that effort is required to learn a foreign language. Here’s a set of the sort of questions I am asked all the time: How can I learn English faster? I need to speak fluent English by [date in the near future]; what can I do? How quickly can I reach Advanced? Can I move up a level? (Inevitably followed by an indignant Why not?) My advice to all of them is that they simply must study and practice constantly; they must stop worrying about skipping levels and focus on learning everything they need to know to pass their current level by heart. So many seem to think that there must be some way to learn English overnight and there simply isn’t.

Anton’s (У Антона)

There’s a bar located just around the corner from the school. We would never have found it had one of the local staff not taken us there one night. Before we left she told us, “You will be afraid. But don’t worry.” In order to reach Anton’s, first you walk through a wrought-iron gate into what appears to be a private courtyard. You walk nearly all the way to the back of the courtyard, then enter through a doorway on the right. There is no sign indicating that you’re entering a public establishment. At this point you go down a dimly lit staircase which leads to a long, winding, tunnel-like hallway. Eventually you emerge into a slightly dank basement containing a smoke-filled café/bar that simply reeks of atmosphere. This place is awesome. For some reason it’s decorated in a mountain climbing theme, but with periodic additions of masks, ranging from scary monsters to fencing masks. There’s both karaoke and a piano. Anton, the owner is a nice guy, and his mother is the chef. The fried mutton dish is scrumptious.

Last Tuesday night we decided to go to Anton’s for dinner, instead of doing as we so often do and popping across the street for shashlik at Nooruz. We expected to simply have some food, possibly a beer or two, then return home. Instead we met a group of Russian men, and one super hot half-Korean half-Kyrgyz man, who invited us to join them. We consumed bottle after bottle of vodka, and then they broke out the guitar. We didn’t get home until around 3am, thoroughly boozy and completely content. I have photos and videos of the madness… unfortunately, after it took over two hours for the first video to upload to youtube, I gave up on the others. I keep describing this new internet café as superfast, but I often forget that it’s superfast by Kyrgyz standards. Sigh. Enjoy the photos and the one measly video.

Adventures on the far side of Issyk-Kul

(As usual, there are only a few photos below. To see the full set, CLICK HERE.)

Bright and early last Thursday morning, Kimberly, Ben Jr and I took a taxi to the airport to pick up Sara B (who works at the American Home in Vladimir where I used to work) and her friend Sasha. Apparently, Sara had been on the way to the train station when she bumped into her friend. Being a rather spontaneous type, as soon as she learned that Sara was going to Kyrgyzstan, she decided to buy a plane ticket there and then and join her! We picked them up and had our driver take us to the Western Bus Station, where we caught a marshrutka to Karakol. The good thing about the marshrutka was that it was only 250soms ($7) per person. The bad thing was that it was terribly cramped. Not as cramped as the inner-city marshrutki, but it wasn’t exactly comfortable. I was seated next to a window (a requirement to help prevent motion sickness), but every time we went over a bump (and this is Kyrgyzstan, so believe me, there were many of them!) I was slammed into the side of the marshrutka. By the time we arrived in Karakol – six hours later – my right shoulder was thoroughly bruised.

We arrived in Karakol in mid-afternoon, only to find that the weather was miserably overcast and dreary. Additionally, while there are parts of Karakol full of cute little slav-style cottages, much of the city is filled with low-quality Soviet era architecture. Under the dreary skies, the city looked thoroughly bleak and desolate. We made our way to our homestay (as usual, arranged by CBT), where we were hosted by a wonderful Russian family and their adorable kitten. After unloading our possessions, we decided to return to the center of the city to see what sights there were.

Our initial goal was the Dungan Mosque. Dungans are ethnic Chinese Muslims, and many of them live in Kyrgyzstan. The Dungan Mosque is unique in that it looks to all the world like a Buddhist temple, not a mosque. Apparently it was also constructed without the use of nails. We had hoped to see the mosque and then make our way to the city’s Russian Orthodox cathedral, but that was not to be. While we had a map of Karakol, it was a little vague, so we began asking people for directions. While we found the people of Karakol extremely willing to give us directions, we soon learned that, for the most part, they were exceedingly terrible at it. We wandered the city for nearly two hours, getting thoroughly lost, before finally stumbling upon the mosque. (Sadly, it turned out that we were on the correct road before we began asking for directions!) I must say that I was rather disappointed with the mosque. Having seen quite a few mosques in Kyrgyzstan, not to mention numerous Buddhist temples in Korea, it really wasn’t *that* impressive – and definitely not worth the effort we expended in order to find it!

Dungan Mosque, Karakol

While we were exploring the mosque, a strong wind suddenly whipped up, blowing dust so hard that it stung our faces, and chilling us rather thoroughly. At that point, we decided to head back to our homestay. We discussed with our host alternatives for the rest of our stay, and she arranged a driver for us for the following day to take us to Altyn Arashan, a high mountain valley in which mineral hot springs are located. Early the next morning – a bright, sunny and utterly gorgeous morning, by the way – our driver, Victor, arrived in a rather frightening looking Soviet era jeep.

Awesome transport.

We packed ourselves into the jeep (this time it was my left shoulder that was pressed against the side of the vehicle, so I was able to even out my bruises!) and began our two-hour trek high up into the mountains. The road to Altyn Arashan was steep in many places, and in many places it wasn’t really worth being called a road at all; it was simply a track through the mountains. We stopped at least four times along the way, so that Victor could refill the radiator and allow the engine to cool!

"Road"

Cooling the engine

The instant we arrived at the Altyn Arashan valley, we knew our trip had been worth it. The scenery was spectacular, and reminded us all of The Sound of Music.

Paradise!

We arrived at the Altyn Arashan hot springs and were greeted by two friendly dogs and five adorable little puppies. (There were also two cats and a horse...) We talked to the caretakers and were given a tour of the facilities, then got down to the business of basking in the hot springs. Oddly enough, the hot springs are pumped into different concrete sheds – not exactly your typical spa relaxation venue – located next to the river. Each shed contains water of a different temperature and containing different minerals. The idea is to relax in one shed, run to the river to freeze, then run to the next shed. Ben and I skipped the running into the frigid river part – although the other girls did run into the river – insanity!

Concrete sheds, housing the springs

They weren't exactly luxurious, but the water was wonderfully warm.

Sasha and Sara brave the cold waters...

After relaxing in the hot springs, picnicking along the shore of the river, and playing with the puppies, it was time to return to Karakol. Victor decided to adopt one of the puppies for his daughter, so we had it for company on our way back down into Karakol – although the poor thing got quite motion sick!

The next day we arranged, through our host, for a driver to take us to the shore of Issyk-Kul to visit the Przhevalski museum and monument, and from there to Jeti-Oguz to see several famous rock formations and to visit the Valley of the Flowers. That morning was quite overcast, and we were worried that our day would be rained on. Unlike the awesome yet uncomfortable and rather ancient Soviet jeep from the previous day, we were treated to a luxurious and incredibly pimped out minivan. Our driver, Dima, had the most absurd mullet ever:

(Oddly enough, he works as a barber when he isn’t driving tourists about!)

First we went to the Przhevalski museum and monument. Przhevalski was the Russian general who thoroughly explored Central Asia for the Russians, and in the process discovered numerous species of animals, such as the Marco Polo Sheep and the Przhevalski Horse. The museum contained stuffed and mounted specimens of many of his discoveries, which was a little creepy. Behind the museum is a monument to Przhevalski, as well as his grave, as he died of typhus in Karakol.

Monument to Przhevalski

From the Przhevalski museum, we drove to Jeti-Oguz. Our first stop was the Broken Heart rock formation.

It does look vaguely like a broken heart...

From there we drove to the Seven Bulls rock formation – which to us didn’t look like bulls at all. Also, each of us counted more than seven, although we all had different totals.

Bulls? Really?

Our next destination was the Valley of the Flowers. According to our guidebooks, starting in May, the valley is filled with flowers and is quite a sight to see. Well, while we were there in May, apparently early May isn’t exactly the time for flowers. While there were some flowers, there weren’t many. We were told that late May and June are the times to go.

Beautiful valley, not many flowers.

We had been wandering around the valley feeling a little disappointed, when we noticed a yurt on the opposite side of the river. While photographing the yurt, it disgorged some young men, who saddled up a horse and rode across the river to us. Sasha immediately asked if she could ride their horse. In the end, they agreed to round up horses for all of us to ride for an hour in the valley. Unfortunately, I was not very comfortable on “my” horse. I felt as though either the back of the saddle was higher than the front, or perhaps the horse’s hind-quarters were higher that its front. Plus, my stirrups – even though shortened as far as they would go – were simply too long. Any time I went faster than a walk I simply felt as though I would topple out of the saddle. Meanwhile, the horse Sasha got was beautiful, sleek and well trained. They even showed her how to make it rear on command!

Me on my horse of the day...

This horse was incredible; I wish I could've ridden it!

After our hour of riding, Dima suggested stopping at one of the valley’s yurts (he knew the owners) for lunch. For a small fee, we were treated to incredible hospitality and a lovely meal of freshly killed sheep.

Family yurts in the valley

Kimberly and I inside a yurt

Our yurt hostess and two of her three daughters

After lunch, we drove out of the valley and stopped at a small store where I bought some tan. It tasted like it had gone a little bad, but I figured it’s fermented already, how bad can it be? I drank about a fourth of the bottle. That decision would come back to haunt me later.

We then drove to another valley which gave us access to a ski-base. The idea was to ascend to the top of the ski-slopes for a killer view – although as the ski lifts weren’t running, we didn’t exactly make it to the top. Ben and I made it about a fourth of the way, while the others made it a good halfway. Even though we didn’t make it to the top, we had some pleasant view – especially since the skies had cleared by then!

View from the slopes

Ben, Kimberly and I were the first down from the mountainous ski slope, and while we were waiting for Sara and Sasha, I decided to go pet a grey horse that was tethered nearby. Now, unlike dogs and cats, most horses aren’t all that into being petted. In contrast, this horse was incredibly friendly, rubbing up on me and nuzzling me and enjoying the attention... and then I noticed that he had a giant erection! Now, I’ve spent a lot of time around horses, and I know that male horses have a habit of stretching their penises out periodically... This wasn’t just a stretch, this was an erection. It was a little creepy. Especially when he kept looking at me with this hang-dog expression, as if to say, “Are you *sure* you’re not a mare?”

If you want to see the more explicit photos, click here.

After leaving the ski-base, we returned to our homestay, where I spent the entire evening running back and forth between my bed and the bathroom and feeling thoroughly miserable. I decided that I was off tan forever (a decision which lasted all of three days, but that’s a story for another post!).

The next morning we got up at the crack of dawn to go to the Al Bazaar, the local animal market, held every Sunday from 5am to 10am. The market was an incredible experience, full of cows, horses and fat-tailed sheep. Additionally, it’s located right next to the Auto Bazaar – home to Ladas of every color. Sadly, I learned that a male horse goes for about $1000 (females are more expensive), and ancient and colorful Ladas go for about $1300. I won’t be buying either. I did take lots of photos though!

Уй means cow in Kyrgyz.

Fat tailed sheep!!!

Orange Lada, $1300

Our final stop in Karakol was the Russian Orthodox cathedral, which we didn’t make it to on our first day. I’ve seen innumerable Orthodox cathedrals in my travels, but I’ve yet to grow tired of onion domes.

After that, it was time to leave. Kimberly, Ben and I were returning to Bishkek, while Sara and Sasha were continuing on in search of further adventures. Since there were only three of us returning to Bishkek, we decided to get a taxi for both speed and comfort. Granted, it cost 500soms/person (twice as much as the marshrutka), but it was comfortable, and only took five hours as opposed to six.

So that’s the story of my trip to Karakol. The photographs tell the story better than I did, so CLICK HERE to check out the full set. Enjoy!

Because I'm waiting for some podcasts to download....

I've been tagged by Adeline... so here goes :-)

1) What was I doing 10 years ago?
Early May 1998, I was studying for my final exams of my second semester as a Freshman at Sewanee. I was also preparing to move to Gainesville, FL for the summer.

2) What are 5 things on my to-do list for today (not in any particular order):
Um, as it's nearly midnight, let's talk about tomorrow:

1. Check if the vet is open (tomorrow is a holiday) and if so, take Lucy to the vet. She has a terrifying mouth infection.
2. Edit my photos from Karakol
3. Plan lessons for Tuesday
4. Go to Shmel (the fast internet cafe that recently opened up near my house; where I am now)
5. Buy a cheese samsa. Yum.

3) Snacks I enjoy:
1. Beer cheese. (Salted/smoked string cheese)
2. Chocolate. Preferably dark. Possibly flavored with brandy.
3. TRISCUITS. Man do I miss them.
4. Cheese samsas

4) Things I would do if I were a billionaire:
1. Establish a non-profit animal rescue
2. Travel to as many places as possible
3. Buy a 1979 Volvo 244DL and completely restore it

5) Three of my bad habits:
I have bad habits?

6) 5 places I have lived:
1. Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan
2. Waycross, Georgia
3. Daegu, South Korea
4. Vladimir, Russia
5. San Diego, California

7) 5 jobs I have had:
1. English teacher
2. Special Agent (yes, this is true)
3. Dell Finacial Services phone jockey
4. Waitress
5. Burger King cash register girl

8) 6 peeps I wanna know more about:
I only have one: Maggie Matahari - because her blog's brand new and all. Anyone else who wishes to participate.... consider yourself tagged.

Back from Karakol

I'm back in Bishkek after 4 days in Karakol... only one day of spring break left, then it's back to the daily grind. I'll have photos and stories of our adventures up as soon as possible.