I rose early after my night at the cluuub and I walked to the airport to catch my flight with Tajik Air to Bishkek. It was a pretty decent and comfortable ride but I was one of 4 people on the plane so it felt kind of weird. But I had the opportunity to see the Ferghana Valley from the air and also pass over the Toktogul Reservoir while I sipped my free juice-like drink. Arriving in Bishkek I immediately knew how to solve my problems and not have to murder a taxi driver by hopping in the marshrutka outside for 200 som and then getting to the centre of the city, where I walked to a different hostel this time, owned by a Japanese-Kyrgyz couple and more decently priced. Also I think the wifi was better? I don't know.
After lapping up some lagman and a delicious Jibek Jolu beer (it tastes like the Granville Island Amber Ale*), that evening I went off to the Guys Fawkes Day celebration way in the south of town. The Southern BBQ was owned and operated by an American who went to Uzbekistan with the Peace Corps in 1992 and had stayed in the region ever since, originally working for British American Tobacco, and then Nestle, and then a few other organizations. He told me that due to the Uzbek currency being made nonconvertible sometime in the late 90s, there was a bunch of nestle chocolate eggs brought into the country but because they could not convert the currency they decided that it was not worth spending the marketing dollars to actually sell them so they took the loss and left them in some warehouse. I would love to find that warehouse. It reminds me of the Uzbek Cotton Scandal of the late 1970s, which is one of my favourite Soviet scandals and even Brezhnev's son-in-law was implicated. Fascinating!
I also met with a bunch of Aussie and Kiwi expats who all worked for a Canadian mining conglomerate and learned about that chocolate fiasco. The miners gave me a ride to my hostel in their taxi and told me I was staying in the absolute ghetto of Kyrgyzstan, which I naturally liked. They also said I had a “*&^%ed up accent” but I don’t even know what that means. I don’t have much exposure to the Australian dialect, apart from what is consistently and evenly disseminated in the form of “good times” at literally every hostel I have ever been to. Have you even seen the “I’m beached, bru” youtube series? I realise that it’s Aussies making fun of Kiwis but whatever, if “”*&^%ed up” means “100% articulate and well-enunciated” then sign me up. At least my ancestors chose to come to Canada.**
*LOL do you remember the Cafe Crepe at UBC that was open for like 5 months and was absolutely BUMPIN' in 2006? Like, it was THE place to be on campus because they served pitchers of Granville Island for $10 and everyone would go there and order beer but wouldn't get crepes and their ventilation system let out into the building our something and they got shut down because they were a health hazard and were full of drunk 18-21 year olds and they didn’t have a proper liquor licence? Was there ever a better time to be alive than the mid-to-late 2000s?
**lol do you remember when I was a park ranger at Christina Lake and several campers independently asked if I grew up in Australia? That doesn’t even make sense. If you’re looking for a lack of worldliness, look no further than literally everyone from Calgary.
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