Thursday, October 30, 2008

In which I get proposed to in a scary basement vet clinic

Today I had to take my kitty passports to various places in orderto get the Bishkek Four approved for transport. My first destination was Orozbekova 253, way the hell north of town. I didn't know where exactly, just that it was north of town and a long way from the school. I took a taxi. The taxi driver had to stop and consult his map numerous times, but eventually he dropped me off at what looked like an old Russian-style wooden house, surrounded by a chain-link fence. The yard was filled with cars in various states of disrepair. It didn't look very much like the sort of place where one goes to get kitty passports validated!

There were several men in the yard taking a smoke break, so I approached them and explained what I needed. One of them told me to follow him, and began leading me downstairs to the basement of this ancient house. Not exactly the safest-feeling situation! However, it turned out that in the basement was a vet clinic, while the upstairs was some kind of vet school. The basement was dark (they had no electricity) and dank and reeked of chemicals. There was an ancient metal table with an IV at one end in the center of the room, and nothing else, and it looked like some kind of psychpath's private torture chamber from a horror flick. Unlike my shiny, well-lit vet clinic on Sovietskaya, which is staffed by three jolly, rotund Russian women, this clinic was staffed by numerous skinny Kyrgyz men. The skinny Kyrgyz man who needed to validate my passport wasn't there when I arrived, so they asked me to sit down and wait. While I waited, I got to chat with one of the vets. He was very nice and suggested that I marry him so he could go to the US. I told him that I planned to continue traveling; he said that didn't matter, he loved to travel. But he likes rap music and doesn't like cats - it would never work. As I waited, a young man carried in a Rottweiler with something wrong with its leg. They tied it to the scary table in the middle of the room and began operating sans anasthetic. I snuck a photo.



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Then the man I needed to see arrived. He looked over my kitty passports, stamped them and then completed several kitty-export-from-K-stan forms. He said it was a pity I was leaving so soon, or else he'd get to know me and then perhaps I could have a Kyrgyz husband, hint, hint. Apparently all the eligible bachelors hang out in the scary basement at Orozbekova 253!

But my day was not over. From Orozbekova 253 I had to travel to another out-of-the-way office: the State Veterinary Department, located at Budenosh 247, where the forms completed by the vet at Orozbekova had to be stamped by some other government official. He was really confused as to why I was taking mixed breed street cats home ("Surely there are street cats in America?"), but stamped all my paperwork nontheless.

As I wandered out of the State Veterinary Department, wondering how the hell I was going to find transport back to civilization, I heard a voice shout, "Jane! Hello!" and turned around to see Elmira, a student I taught for my first five months in K-stan, but whom I hadn't seen since. Apparently she lives across the street from the State Veterinary Department. I talked to her for a little while, and she helped me find the correct marshrutka to take me back to the London School.

Today's adventures were both mundane and absurd. And the kind of stuff that I'm going to miss when I'm back in the "real world." I leave on Sunday!!



Monday, October 27, 2008

In which Ben breaks the door and Kyrgyzstan nullifies my vote

Since technically my contract runs through October 31st, I purchased my ticket home for November 2nd. Ben was promised my apartment upon my departure, as the school needed to turn his apartment into classrooms. Unfortunately, when I bought my ticket I hadn’t realized that the last day of “October” classes was actually October 24th and that “November” classes began on October 27th. This meant that they needed Ben to move out on October 25th… and of course they were confused as to why I’d bought my ticket for such a late date. Yay, Kyrgyz logic. Luckily, Ben and I are good friends, so we don’t mind sharing an apartment for one week. Of course, I had five cats and he had one, so there are now two people and six cats in my apartment. Madness!

Monday I decided that while everyone else was at work (haha! unemployment is great!) I’d take the four cats that I’m taking home to the vet so they could be examined in order for the vet to complete the paperwork needed for customs. I can only carry two cats at a time, and I had just lugged Lucy and Heelix into the vet’s office when I received a panicked phone call from Ben: Minsk had escaped and while he was in the process of re-capturing her, somehow the door to our apartment had broken and he was unable to get back inside. He’d shoved Minsk into Katy’s apartment (Katy, btw, is a dog person) and they were both teaching while various people tried to break down the door to our apartment. He wanted me to come home ASAP so that I could prevent the other cats from escaping once the door was opened – and so that I could get Minsk out of Katy’s apartment.

I figured that as I was already at the vet, I might as well do what I’d gone there to do. I explained what I needed, and nearly laughed when I learned that I hadn’t had to bring the cats with me; she was perfectly willing to complete the paperwork stating that all four were healthy without examining any of them! Meanwhile, on Thursday I have to take that paperwork to two different government offices to have various officials stamp them, thus further “proving” that my cats are healthy. Yay, more Kyrgyz logic.

I practically ran back to the school (doing so while lugging fat-ass Heelix was a feat in and of itself), only to discover that the school had called a locksmith who wouldn’t be there for an hour or so. I snagged Katy’s keys and spent a good three hours with three cats hanging out in her apartment. I was just about to fall asleep when I was roused by the sound of a drill. I went downstairs to discover a woman jackhammering the concrete doorjamb with a power drill. She did eventually get in and switch the locks, but by then I’d completely wasted most of my day.

Tuesday I decided to go to the central post office to ship home the wooden saddle that I’d bought for my mom ages and ages ago. I also figured that would be as good a time as any to mail my absentee ballot. I dragged the saddle all the way downtown and had the woman in the post office give me a quote as to how much it would cost to ship – nearly $100. I’d paid $14 for the thing. Grrr. I went across the street to change money and came back to discover the postal woman debating with some man whether or not I should be allowed to ship this antique saddle out of the country. On the one hand, it might very well be an antique. On the other hand, I paid $14 for it, so it couldn’t be *that* valuable, now could it? I told them that and they decided that I had a pretty good point and agreed to allow me to ship it.

It took more than an hour for the woman to package up the saddle. First she made a custom sized box out of cardboard. After taping it up around the saddle, she then sewed a custom fit cloth sleeve for the box, which she then hand-stitched shut and sealed with wax. She told me how much I owed, and I asked how much it would be to send my envelope (containing my absentee ballot) as well. Her response? “The envelope is in the box with the saddle. They’re going to the same address, right?” In the box? Are you kidding me? It had taken so long to package the damn saddle that I wasn’t about to make her do it again (although from the look on her face, she wouldn’t have agreed to do it even if I’d insisted), but dammit! This makes three presidential elections in a row that I’ve effectively been disenfranchised, although this is the first time that it has been the fault of someone in a foreign government! Now I have to print off the Federal Emergency Absentee Ballot and hope that it counts.

The happiest place on earth?

On Saturday, Ben, Derek, Josh, Katy and I went to the circus. Bishkek has a rather awesome looking circus facility - a weird 60s era "futuristic" construction, located in the center of town - although it does not have its own circus. The circus building is used for concerts and comedy shows although it occasionally fulfills its true purpose when the circus comes to town. Signs plastered all over the city claimed that The Moscow Circus was coming. Now, I've seen the Moscow Circus, and they are flawless professionals (albeit with drugged bears). If what we saw was actually affiliated with the Moscow Circus in any way, they were definitely 10th string. But it was amusing (although the drugged bears and the drugged kangaroo were depressing - except for when one of the bears attacked its handler, which sadly, I did not get on camera).

We arrived at the circus to learn that tickets were a little more than we wanted to spend... then some sketchy middle-aged Kyrgyz woman offered to sell us scalped tickets for a fraction of the price. Of course we agreed, and of course they were fake. Well, not so much fake as for the 12:00 show when we were there to see the 4:00 show. We didn't notice this until we were already inside... and the three or four different people who checked our tickets never noticed. Woohoo! Anyway, we were seated far from the action - not good for photography - but I did take several short videos so you can see the true absurdity of this spectacle. Enjoy!






Saturday, October 25, 2008

Eagle Fest!!

Warning: Animal Rights in Kyrgyzstan are essentially nonexistant. This post contains some graphic photography and videos which are rather unpleasant. However, there are a lot of really incredible and beautiful things to see/read in this post as well... just be forewarned.

Last Friday after work, Josh had arranged for taxis to meet us at the school to take us (for 650som/person) to Kaji-Say, a village just east of Bokonbaev on the southern shore of Lake Issyk Kul. Josh and Derek (being students who didn’t have to work) had left earlier that day, and eight of us piled into two taxis for the journey at roughly 9pm. We arrived in Kaji-Say around 1am, and went to our homestay. Josh had arranged for us all to stay at Zina’s B&B, a very nice place run by the wife of one of Kyrgyzstan’s champion eagle hunters. (It isn’t affiliated with CBT, although it is in Lonely Planet.) The B&B was comfortable, except for one small problem: they didn’t have heat. I don’t know if this was because the power was out at night so electric heaters wouldn’t run, or if it was because the state heat hadn’t been turned on yet (if there even *is* state heat somewhere as remote as Kaji-Say). We were placed (nearly) all together in the top room of the home, which – fittingly – felt very much like an aerie.
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We stayed in the little room atop the house
We were all miserably cold during the night, and as a result awoke quite early. We went downstairs for breakfast and met Ishenbek, the champion eagle hunter, for the first time. We also met Tuman, his gorgeous golden eagle.
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Tuman, looking a tad grumpy early in the morning
After breakfast we loaded into a pre-arranged marshrutka (mini-van/bus) which drove us to a site just to the west of Bokonbaev where national traditional hunting championships were being held. This consisted of numerous eagle hunters and falconers, in addition to handlers of wolf hounds, archers and skilled horsemen. I had expected maybe ten eagles at the most, but there must have been at least fifty there with their handlers, in addition to numerous hawks, dogs and horses. I got my favorite pictures of the day before the competitions began, when elderly men on horseback lounged around with eagles on their arms, chatting with one another.

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Ishenbek and Tuman

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The Kazakh team had really awesome costumes

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This man was really nice, and I was in love with his horse.
Ishenbek had told us that there would be a captive wolf at the festival, which would be released for the eagles to hunt. He told us that he was the only person – from both Kyrgyzstan and Kazakhstan – who was willing to pit his eagle against the wolf at the festival, and said that she’d killed three or four wolves in the wild. He was obviously very nervous about this, and I admit I was worried for gorgeous Tuman as well. We all anxiously awaited the release of the wolf... but many events came first.

I didn’t get very good shots of the first events, as my camera simply doesn’t have that great of a zoom. We watched first hawks and then wolf hounds compete to take down pigeons, rabbits and even a fox. The hawks were incredibly impressive and good at what they did. The dogs were less impressive, mainly because there was only one poor fox. It was killed after the first round, and its maimed carcass dragged behind a horse for subsequent rounds. It was rather distressing to watch, and the poor dogs obviously felt as though they’d been teased when they discovered that their “prey” was already dead.

When they began to launch the eagles (mainly against rabbits, although some were also launched against ye olde dead fox), it began to get more interesting. Ben, Evan and I climbed up the side of the mountain to the place from where the eagle hunters were launching their eagles, and I was able to get some rather decent shots:
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Of course, these eagles are trained, but they are still wild animals and do not always do as they should. One turned away from its rabbity target and wheeled directly backwards at me and Ben. Oblivious to the people shouting at us to get out of the way, we stood in awe, not even photographing, as it swooped straight towards us. It landed on the ground roughly four feet in front of me.
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It was while we were crouched on the mountainside, eagles being launched for attack over our heads, that we somewhat ingratiated ourselves with the local press pack, who would help us by pointing out which eagle would launch next and whatnot. Suddenly there was mass excitement as one shouted, “Davai! Volk!” and began bounding off the mountain. They were bringing out the wolf. Following the press pack (who were allowed past the annoying line behind which spectators had to stand), Ben, Evan and I found ourselves standing, cameras poised, not far from the wooden box wherein the captive wolf was held. At one point the alleged professional wolf handler (wearing a shirt which read: Kyrgyzstan – Land of Tourism no less!) came over and told us, “You do know there is a *wolf* in there? There might be problems.” No one moved.

During this time, Ben and I were feeling a bit of camera envy. Evan can blend into the press pack with his super awesome camera and amazing lens. My camera might be able to take great photos on occasion, but it doesn’t exactly scream “professional photographer.” I felt the need to say (in Russian) a few times that just because my camera was small didn’t mean I wasn’t a journalist. We even invented a newspaper to claim we worked for: Jane’s Daily.

Finally, after what seemed like an interminable amount of time waiting, they brought out the wolf hounds. Apparently they had decided to change plans and have the wolf tired out by the dogs before setting the eagles on it; this way, more eagle-handlers had agreed to participate in the eagle vs. wolves part of the event. While I feel that eagle vs. wolf is acceptable, I wasn’t too keen on one wolf taking on a pack of trained wolf hounds. And when they released the wolf, my heart sank; he was chained to a ball of iron. He could run around and even drag the iron ball behind him, but he could not escape. (I suppose the iron ball was probably a good thing for the dumbass journalists – myself included – as the wolf immediately charged us upon exiting his box. Most of us moved out of its way, as we do have some sense of self preservation. Meanwhile, Ben didn’t move at all, and just stood there taking photos. I wish I’d gotten one of him almost getting mauled. He had a rather narrow escape.
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Then they released the dogs. They released the dogs in teams of two, starting with the least experienced and moving up to the most experienced. It was utterly heart-wrenching to watch the poor wolf, tied to a chain, defending himself against pair after pair of wolf hounds. I got some very bizarre looks from my journalist compadres for cheering loudly for the wolf in Russian. I must say that despite his handicap, the wolf gave better than he got, injuring numerous dogs. He was still standing at the end... or at least he was until Mr. Kyrgyzstan: Land of Tourism pinned him to the ground with what was essentially a two pronged pitch fork around his neck.
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WARNING: Graphic video

Now that the wolf was tired out, he was taken to the center of the field and left on his chain to await attack by eagles. His mouth was also tied shut. Ishenbeck strongly disapproved of all of this, having wanted to prove himself and Tuman against a strong, healthy and free wolf. Additionally, eagles are trained to not attack domestic animals. As such, a tied wolf looks much like a domesticated dog, which rather confused the eagles. Not to mention that they’d had to wait an extra long time for the dogs to try to tire out the wolf. The eagles were cranky. And they were coming.

The first eagle that was launched was one of the Kazakh eagles. It started down toward the wolf, then veered sharply to the right and directly into a crowd of spectators sitting on the side of the hill, attacking one man and sending his companions fleeing for their lives. It was too far away for me to get decent pictures, but I did get some where you can see what was happening.
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The man on the ground is the one who was attacked.
Madness took over. Everyone (spectators and journalists alike) ran towards the injured man – including Ben and I, who shamelessly sought to get photos of his wounds. (He was bleeding profusely from the side of his face, but unfortunately, I didn’t get any shots of it.) The Kazakh eagle swooped down towards the crowd just as Ishenbek launched Tuman toward the wolf. Tuman, heroine of the day, swerved off target and took down the Kazakh eagle, which made Ishenbek quite proud.
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Ishenbek, proud that Tuman kicked Kazakh eagle ass.
While everyone was clustered around Ishenbek and the Kazakh eagle hunter, watching them disengage their birds (Tuman was fine, but she injured the Kazakh eagle), the fabulous green-coat eagle hunter with the awesome stallion (pictured near the beginning of this post) launched his eagle at the wolf. I didn’t get a good shot – and it was hard to tell what happened. The eagle definitely scored a hit, although it’s hard to tell how successful she would have been had the wolf been unfettered.
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At that point, the festival was over. We walked back into Bokonbaev, had dinner at a local café, then met up with our marshrutka driver who took us back to Ishenbek’s home.

The next morning we again rose early, and piled back into the marshrutka – this time with Ishenbek and Tuman for company. Only in Kyrgyzstan!
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We drove for about 45 minutes to another nearby village where horses were awaiting us. The horse-handlers first asked who among us had experience riding a horse. I said that I did. They looked me over and pointed at the horse and asked me if I was sure, as this horse was tough to handle. I said fine, and immediately mounted up. They even asked me if it was ok several times before we left, although I have no idea why. My horse was perfect. He did everything I asked, would turn on a dime, and was incredibly surefooted. And he never once tried to toss me, even though he had several decent opportunities (Val would not have passed those up!). Perhaps he just required someone with confidence to handle him? I have no idea what all the fuss was about. Plus, some of the horses my companions got were incredibly ornery and disobedient. (Although I suppose this might have been the reaction of the horse to the rider’s inability to control it.)
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We set out over the steppe following Ishenbek and Tuman, and wound our way up into the mountain hunting grounds. We stopped atop several cliffs from where Ishenbek launched Tuman after several foxes. She came close to capturing them, but in the wild, the foxes have a fair chance; they were able to scurry under shrubbery and into holes just in time.
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Ishenbek prepares to launch Tuman
We rode for a total of about six hours. After about four, we stopped for a break in a high mountain pasture, and relaxed on the grass with Ishenbek and Tuman and with our horses grazing unfettered nearby.
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Isn't she gorgeous?

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My trusty steed :-)
We made our way down towards a lower pasture, a scenic spot where Ishenbek allowed each of us to hold Tuman and have our photos taken. We were instructed to remain quiet; she had her mask on, and would panic if she heard the voice of someone other than Ishenbek holding her. She was incredibly heavy, and I could barely hold her up. Perhaps she could tell by the way I held her that I was not her master, and she began flapping her wings violently (here’s a nice pic of me mouthing a silent scream), but I was able to get some decent shots with her.
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Almost immediately after we finished taking our photos, it began to storm, a painful mixture of rain, snow, sleet and hail. Our horses initially got a little spooked; Ben’s wouldn’t even let him mount for the longest time. We had a good hour or more of our ride left, and within minutes we were soaked to the skin and freezing cold. At one point as it was hailing, the horses began to slip and slide on the little balls of ice covering the trail. Both Josh’s and Ben’s horses fell down. Josh was able to jump clear in time, but Ben’s horse landed on his foot. Afterwards, Ben’s horse was so spooked that he wouldn’t let him remount, and he had to walk back.

By the time we returned to the village, we were miserable. The heater in the marshrutka helped a little, but not much. We returned to Ishenbek’s house in the early stages of hypothermia. Katy and I were so cold that we wanted nothing more than to get out of our wet clothes and into dry ones; meanwhile, we were so cold that our muscles wouldn’t do what we asked. All we could do was stand there, shivering and laughing hysterically. Eventually we got changed and hid under the covers until the marshrutka which we’d hired to drive us back to Bishkek arrived. Not surprisingly, I came down with a pretty horrific cold!

Our weekend was quite an adventure and I had a wonderful time, despite the sickening feeling that the wolf-torture left in my stomach. I don’t believe in Hell, although I do rather feel like I might be going there after watching the wolf vs. dogs event.
Internet has been slow and uncooperative of late - thus the delay in getting all of this online. I *have* uploaded 180+ pictures to flickr, but they are not in order, labeled or in a set (thanks, shmel). Anyway, you can still see them here, although they probably won't be organized until next week after I return home.

It's coming, really!

Sorry for the delay in getting the post about last weekend online, but I've been sick. (I imagine the hypothermia had something to do with that...) And the few times I've made it to the internet cafe, it's been painfully slow. Additionally, I can now only access flickr's basic uploader (as in max 6 photos at a time) from my internet cafe, and I've got nearly 200 to upload. This could take some time. But, today was my last working day and I've all next week to kick my heels prior to departure... I'll have the post online as soon as I can.

Monday, October 20, 2008

My weekend was incredible!

I watched a man get mauled by a golden eagle, held a (different) golden eagle (see the pic to your right), and damn near got hypothermia riding a horse down the side of a mountain in a hailstorm/blizard... Fantastic!! I have tons of photographs and videos to sort through and upload, but I'll try to have the post ready in the next day or two. Stay tuned!

Thursday, October 16, 2008

Cats dance to Amanda Palmer

For starters: If you like The Dresden Dolls, you need to purchase their singer's solo album Who Killed Amanda Palmer NOW. It is incredible and I simply cannot get enough of it. Anyway, at last weekend's cat show, I was able to buy a cat toy - this was the first time I'd ever seen cat toys for sale in Kyrgyzstan. I thought the kittens would go crazy over it, but it turns out that it's the adult cats Bagira and Lucy who enjoy it the most. So take a gander at them playing with Amanda Palmer singing in the background:

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

A belated birthday present

One of my Korean students (who is actually a former student; he has Katy as his teacher now), brought me a birthday present yesterday. A bit late as my birthday was last month, but super sweet: Korean (quality! Dong A!) whiteboard markers, a whiteboard eraser, and a chain of miniature paper cranes with "Happy Birthday Jane" spelled out on their wings.
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Sunday, October 12, 2008

Cats and Hot Chocolate!!

This morning Ben and I got up early (which for both of us is a feat in and of itself) to go to the International Exhibition of Cats put on at the Russian Drama Theater (of all venues) by the Bishkek Cat-lovers Association. I'm not a big fan of cat shows and pedigreed cats in general (why pay money for a cat when so many are available for free?), but I'm not going to turn down the opportunity to enjoy some fabulous feline cuteness. There was a rather absurd number of Hairless Sphinxes and Scottish Folds at the show, considering that it was a fairly small event. I wonder why those two particular breeds are so popular? Anyway, here are my cat show photos - enjoy the cuteness!!

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This one was supposed to pass herself off as a princess, but kept gnawing on her collar.

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Somebody is not happy.

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Gah!

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It's a Kitler!!

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This one was my favorite. Most were in these over-decorated cages, but this one was just in a bare cage. Nonetheless, it was super-cute and full of personality.

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I loved how this giant orange cat was cowering behind the little sphinx.

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This one looks like Shaggy and Linda's Hobbes. Allegedly it's a "Siberian" although I'd never heard of that as a breed of cat (other than the tiger) before!


This kitten was happily playing with its toy, oblivious of its surroundings.

After leaving the cat show, we met up with Katy at Cyclone, an Italian restaurant on Chuy near Beta Stores, which had the world's best hot chocolate. And they make a pretty damn tasty calzone as well.

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Like a melted bar of fine dark chocolate.

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Mmmmmm.

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Katy and her hotchoc
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Ben and his gargantuan and delicious calzone.





Friday, October 10, 2008

Politics, Pets and the Policies of Evicting Crack-heads

The other night I went to Justin’s house (Justin is my ten-year old Korean student), to tutor him in English and eat delicious bibimbap with him and his family. Over dinner we had quite an intelligent discussion – mixing English, Korean and Russian – about politics in the US and Kyrgyzstan. His father said that even though he knew very little about the policies of either Obama or McCain, if he were an American he would vote for Obama. His reasoning was that the election of a black man to the US presidency would prove that the US really is a nation of immigrants, a nation for everybody, a nation without prejudice. I heard so many racist comments against blacks when I was in South Korea, that this was a pleasant surprise. (Of course, I’m currently listening to an NPR podcast on race in the current presidential election, which makes it seem as though such an enlightened view might actually be rather rare...)

With regards to politics in Kyrgyzstan, Justin’s parents were telling me about the similarities between Bakiev (Kyrgyzstan’s current president) and Akayev (the president who was ousted in Kyrgyzstan’s 2005 revolution). Nepotism was a huge problem under Akayev, with his children holding prominent places in the government. Apparently the situation under Bakiev is even worse, specifically with the power held by Bakiev’s son, Maxim:
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[
larger version]

There were local elections here in Bishkek this past Sunday. Very few of my students voted; they all fervently believed that there was no reason to vote as the results had already been pre-determined. It was consensus among my students that whoever could pay the President the most money would earn seats in local government, no matter who received the most votes, so why bother? Several students said that if they lived somewhere where their vote counted, “like the US or Russia” (!!!) they would vote, but here in Kyrgyzstan, there’s just no point.
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Doesn't he look like Frodo with a mullet???

And speaking of voting... my ballot arrived! :-) Perhaps I can finally manage to *not* be disenfranchised in a presidential election. I was able to download the mp3 of the most recent debate between Obama and McCain (better late than never; at least I’m not completely out of touch), and while I continue to be amazed by the fact that the Republicans have an intelligent and articulate sounding candidate, I definitely think Obama won. I understand that repeating your message is something politicians do in order to drive their point home, but the way McCain repeated himself verbatim so many times made him seem to me like a doddering old man. And the whole “that one” thing? Sheesh. Also, citing working across the aisle with that party-traitor Joe Lieberman is hardly a good example!

On a totally different note, the theme of the module I’ve been teaching this past week in my advanced class was honesty and dishonesty, which of course meant we did a lot of talking about boyfriends/girlfriends and husbands/wives cheating on each other. Today one of my students said that all husbands will cheat, and that it’s a wife’s duty to ignore the cheating, and not to confront him, but to do her best to be the perfect wife in order to lure him back. Everyone else in the class agreed with her (and there were five women and man in that class). Depressing! (And given recent events, duly so.)

What else? Minsk, my new kitten, continues to have diarrhea. Instead of receiving medicine at the vet, my vet wrote down the name of a medication to buy at the pharmacy – as in the pharmacy where *humans* buy their meds – and instructed me to give the cat 1/6 of a pill twice a day. I hope it works. With the lack of the “good” cat litter at my pet store and five cats in my apartment, Minsk’s digestive problems are definitely raising the odor level in my home. Gross, huh? And of course, I can’t even begin to look for a home for the poor girl until she’s healthy and 100% litter box trained. She uses the box about 90% of the time, which is an improvement over 0%, but still not acceptable. Sigh. But on the plus side, she is incredibly sweet and snuggly – the others are quite jealous!

And finally, the part of the tale you’ve been waiting for: If you’ve been following this blog for a while now, you’ve no doubt heard of
Ronnie, my crazy old-guy neighbor in the Waycross ghetto who got high, then took off all his clothes in order to “show me his biologicals” as he said. Anyway, he used to squat in an empty house a block away from my Waycross home. (And I do mean squat: it wasn’t his and had no electricity or running water.) Then, for some reason, my mom hired him to paint this extra house that she owns. (She bought it super-cheap hopes to sell it one day, although given the current financial situation, god knows when that will be.) Anyway, while Ronnie was painting the house (in a style described by my mom as “a fuck-up”), he decided to move in and start squatting there. After all, that house has electricity and running water, and as the painter, he’d been given keys. Then he got arrested for possession of crack. As soon as he got arrested, my advice to my mom was to have the locks changed ASAP. She didn’t. That was a few months ago. A couple days ago she saw Ronnie riding his bike, and decided to make arrangements to have the locks changed. That was when she learned that he’d been out of jail and living in her other house for the past two weeks! Because she’d originally given him the keys and permission to be in there, the police said that they can’t do anything about it. After learning this, my mom drove around the ghetto (that being *my* neighborhood, btw) until she found him, then royally bitched him out until he promised that he’d be out by the end of the week. We shall see. Either way, she's having the locks changed at the end of the week, whether he's gotten his stuff out or not.

The thing is, I’d recently decided to try to sell my house and move into the other house (the one currently inhabited by the crack-head painter/flasher)! At the very least, I’d like to put my four Kyrgyz cats in that house so they won’t have to deal with a two-day world-wide trip followed by introduction to all those cats that live at my house. Neither of those things is going to happen if Ronnie’s living in there. I may well have to move myself and the Bishkek Four straight into the
Spartan :-)

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

Woman drivers in Kyrgyzstan

If you're learning to drive in K-stan, you can get a sticker for the back of your car - a cyrillic У inside a triangle - to warn everyone that you're a student. If you're a woman, this is what you get:
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Yep, that's a high heeled shoe.


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Tuesday, October 07, 2008

Earthquake!

There was a super massive (either 6.6 or 8 magnitude, depending on which story you read) in southern Kyrgyzstan last night. Allegedly it was felt here in Bishkek (and some of my students claim to have felt it), but I felt nothing.


And now for something completely different:

Monday, October 06, 2008

Vet care in Kyrgyzstan

Minsk (the kitten from the previous post) had what was obviously an infected dog-bite on her side, so I took her to the vet this morning. While on the one hand, they do seem to know what they're doing, on the other... well, this is vet care in Kyrgyzstan. As with Lucy, it was not the best experience for Minsk. First, the vet used some cloth strips to tie the un-anesthetized and very unhappy cat to the table. Then I held Minsk's mouth shut (to keep her from biting the vet) while she in turn began minor surgery. Little Minsk put up one hell of a fight, and after about 15 or so minutes, the vet decided to sedate her. God knows why we couldn't have done that from the beginning. Anyway, her wound has been cleaned out and stitched up, and she's received antibiotics. Now she's sleeping off her sedation.

Sunday, October 05, 2008

And you thought things were out of control before...

Ben, Katy and I found another kitten today. I won't be taking her home with me, as I can't afford to - and I think I've totally maxed out Aeroflot's pet allowance - so we're going to try and find a home for her. If you know anyone in K-stan who wants a sad little street kitten, let me know!

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