The Smile of Bishkek
It all begins with a guy called Danko. One day he happened to be walking down a random Bishkek street with a backpack when a drunk Indian man stumbled out of a posh restaurant and invited him in to a banquet. The banquet was frequented by the cream of Bishkek's diplomatic crop and this made Danko rather uncomfortable given his dishevelled appearance and clothes which had probably not seen a washing machine for several weeks. He began to drink and as he began to drink he began to talk. He met a Canadian girl who happened to mention that she had quit her job the previous day - maths/computer teaching at an international school.
Danko somehow woke up the following morning (possibly in a park) and proceeded to walk towards the train station, when through his alcohol induced stupor he remembered the Canadian girl and the international school. Not long after he was standing in the principal's office pretending that he was a teacher looking for a job. Reply : when can you start. The possibility of living in Bishkek (aka Reality) hit Danko a little too hard, and he decided to worm his way out of the situation by demanding an outrageous salary - "I've never worked for less than $1000USD a month." Reply : "My salary is $800. BUT... we really need you. OK."
I met Danko in the wonderful Hostel Mashhad in Tehran - on my last night there. All the elements of a good place to stay : a rape rumour among Japanese backpackers, dirty sheets, smelly toilets, an owner with a heavily jelled side-part (i.e. pedophile hair) and a resident people-smuggler ($1000 a pop to get Pakistanis and Afghans into Western Europe), whom I had just gotten drunk with - risking deportation and a lashing in the process.
With 4 months salary, Danko had bought himself a nice little flat in Bishkek and that is where I'm staying now, together with Veronika, who is looking after the flat, the 3 resident fish and 2 turtles, her husband Alexi, and their cat Max. Not a bad arrangement. Last night I cooked for the first time in a month - Indian curry. I even managed to find dried tumeric and ginger roots at the chaotic Osh bazaar. However, the Kyrgyz vodka was not a good move.
Bishkek is nice. Like Almaty, a soviet grid with wide tree-lined streets, but smaller, cooler and less noisy. Not a bad place to be stuck, and it looks like I'm stuck. My Chinese visa has a mistake in it which the consulate has refused to fix, saying, "we can cancel the visa. Then you can apply for a new one if you get an invitation from a tour agency and buy a new visa. It will cost you $30 and it will take a week." Went to the embassy and had a bitch. They told me to call back after 3. We shall see - I might just go and apply for a job at a random English school.
Danko somehow woke up the following morning (possibly in a park) and proceeded to walk towards the train station, when through his alcohol induced stupor he remembered the Canadian girl and the international school. Not long after he was standing in the principal's office pretending that he was a teacher looking for a job. Reply : when can you start. The possibility of living in Bishkek (aka Reality) hit Danko a little too hard, and he decided to worm his way out of the situation by demanding an outrageous salary - "I've never worked for less than $1000USD a month." Reply : "My salary is $800. BUT... we really need you. OK."
I met Danko in the wonderful Hostel Mashhad in Tehran - on my last night there. All the elements of a good place to stay : a rape rumour among Japanese backpackers, dirty sheets, smelly toilets, an owner with a heavily jelled side-part (i.e. pedophile hair) and a resident people-smuggler ($1000 a pop to get Pakistanis and Afghans into Western Europe), whom I had just gotten drunk with - risking deportation and a lashing in the process.
With 4 months salary, Danko had bought himself a nice little flat in Bishkek and that is where I'm staying now, together with Veronika, who is looking after the flat, the 3 resident fish and 2 turtles, her husband Alexi, and their cat Max. Not a bad arrangement. Last night I cooked for the first time in a month - Indian curry. I even managed to find dried tumeric and ginger roots at the chaotic Osh bazaar. However, the Kyrgyz vodka was not a good move.
Bishkek is nice. Like Almaty, a soviet grid with wide tree-lined streets, but smaller, cooler and less noisy. Not a bad place to be stuck, and it looks like I'm stuck. My Chinese visa has a mistake in it which the consulate has refused to fix, saying, "we can cancel the visa. Then you can apply for a new one if you get an invitation from a tour agency and buy a new visa. It will cost you $30 and it will take a week." Went to the embassy and had a bitch. They told me to call back after 3. We shall see - I might just go and apply for a job at a random English school.
posted by nekonote1903 at 2:19 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home