Traveling Through Kyrgyzstan, Part 1: The Return to the Yurt Campsby Randi / October 4, 2017
After too many nights in freezing cold yurt camps, we started the next section of our Kyrgyzstan country tour, which would take us a little more towards civilization and, even better, into guest houses! We packed so much activity into these extremely active days and got to see so much of the country, which we grew to love. Maybe it’s because I didn’t have to pee outside anymore, maybe because I finally got to wash my hair, but I started having a swell old time.
Day 3
“Put your mind to it go for it…get down and break a sweat!”
We woke up on Day 3 in our gross antsy yurt in the Kelemche Jailoo, after a night banging into the anchor swinging over my mattress pad. After a plate of kasha for breakfast (dudes I really love kasha!), I had to say goodbye to my little floofer ball o’ bear workshop, pictured above. This pupster was such a bad little baby but so flinging flanging adorable! It was hard to leave, but we had a long trek in front of us. 18 kilometers, actually, to our next sleeping destination of Kyzart village. For another day, we would follow Melis as he rode his horse and we walked like chumps behind him in the heat and up the endless hills. Still better than riding a horse though.
The first few kilometers were pretty decent, although it was super dry and my eyes started going really fast. Luckily we had a lovely little stop by Melis’s favorite spot, a grassy shady treelined area by a big creek (small river?). So nice. I was going to pee behind one of the trees but Z exclaimed “You can’t pee on Melis’s favorite spot!” True.
I enjoy activity and exercise but 18 kilometers across mountains added up to a lil too much but fast! There were some really steep hills in the second half that damn near knocked us out, with Melis of course amused, watching from the top of the hills from atop his noble steed. (She called me a steed!) Unfortunately, my left hip started throbbing, which is funny because my right hip is usually the one that gives me trouble. (Not funny ‘haha’, I guess.) But we had many more miles to go, trekking over rocks and hills and up and up and down those bullshitty gravel paths. So when we finally arrived in Kyzart Village, my hip was completely frozen. Nooooope.
the road that never ends
flat bit!
Finally we saw VILLAGE! and PEOPLE! you could say we saw Village People! And not just any, but little children who RAN up the road to meet us when we entered the village bounds. Melis went ahead to meet their little scampering feet and gave them big hugs. GUYS, they were his kids! He lives in the village with his family! It was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen. They were so cute and so happy to see their dad. Almost as happy as I was to be done walking for the day.
Melis told his kids he’d see them at home (I mean I imagine) and finished leading us to our guest house in the village, where we would be staying for the night. Despite knowing that ‘guest house’ was on our itinerary for tonight, I had refused to get my hopes up that it would be anything more than a little shack in a camp where I’d still have to pee outside. Remember in that amazing (terrible) (no amazing) Meg Ryan-Tim Robbins movie “I.Q.” about Einstein (such great nonsense) when Walter Matthau (RIP <3) as Einstein said “I’d rather be an optimist and a fool than a pessimist and right”? I think about that quote at least every day (since 1994) because well I don’t wanna be a fool! Mama didn’t raise no fool. And I didn’t want to optimistically imagine that that night I wouldn’t have to walk outside an actual house to get to an outhouse and then arrive and be proved wrong like a fool like a FOOL. That would be not so fun. But luckily I was wrong because we were led into a nice little REGULAR house! With a bedroom with BEDS near A REGULAR BATHROOM! With a toilet and a sink and a shower! Dance dance dance!
We had a lovely lunch with the hosts at their dining room table, set up in the traditional plentiful manner we’ve grown to love (so much melon!), and relaxed in indoor glory. I ate so much watermelon. And then we realized that no one was going to get up from the table until we did, which was super awks, and we didn’t feel comfortable taking such responsibility in someone else’s house, so finally after a long time of sitting in silence playing with our forks, I finally asked if we were allowed to shower. Z said, “I think they would prefer it.” We smelt. So we got to shower! This was the longest I’d ever gone without washing my hair ewwww. But it’s clean now! After we got clean, we just laid around on our single beds (we had three in our room!). My hip was stupid frozen from walking on it when it hurt so I literally couldn’t get up from the bed all afternoon. I tried to find a reading position that didn’t make it throb but I failed. But at least I won’t freeze tonight!
Before dinner, we took a short walk around the village, finding a nice little mosque (above) and lotssss of children who chased us while screaming “HELLO! HELLO!” I know it sounds adorable but after three months of children AND adults shouting HELLO at you it gets beyond annoying.
Dinner was a nice veg stirfry mixture kind of thing and – you guessed it – a GIANT plate of cucumber and tomato salad. I had a lot of bread too because, like the watermelon in this region, the bread was RG too. Also we hiked like 30 kilometers in 27 hours and my hip was wrecked AF! I get to eat all the bread!
I had the best night’s sleep in a week.
Day 4
“Things are looking up…in DULOC!”
Day 4
“Things are looking up…in DULOC!”
After such good warm sleep, I had a plate of melon for breakfast – the fruits of my labors from the previous evening, when Sacha and the family asked me what I would want for breakfast and I said ‘just fruit please’ and they spent 10 minutes trying to convince me to have a plate of shredded potato instead and I was like please just fruit is fine I’ll grab an apple from the basket and they were like ‘but potato though’. I guess no one has just fruit for breakfast in these parts.
At about 9:30am we left for Kochkor village, for a quick stop to get water and whatever groceries we needed and then for the main morning event – a traditional carpet factory.
obsessed with the poster for the October Revolution in the background
See how pretty the woman’s creations are? Keep that in mind for when I reveal what we made.
So, a traditional Kyrgyz (or any, really) carpet factory meant that they use wool and felt. Despite knowing for several days that this traditional cultural art tour was on the agenda, I didn’t even think about the wool aspect before we arrived and they explained it all to us, which I guess was pretty stupid. But despite a decade of veganism, I guess I spent all my worry and attention on making sure the food would be taken care of rather than ensuring that the activities would be vegan. Getting out of horse-riding was enough, I assumed! Once I realized oh this is all wool, it was way too late to say anything. And I’m not sure I would have said anything anyway – this was our one hands-on cultural art exposure in the whole country, and my opposition to their use of wool would literally have accomplished nothing besides cutting our activities and limiting our learning about the culture.
whacking the wool with metal rods to…soften it?
Admittedly, I’m glad I didn’t have the foresight to cancel this activity, because it was actually really fun. Unlike other factory tours that get added to tourist itineraries as boring ways to try to force souvenir-buying, we actually learned a lot here, and the private instruction made us appreciate Kyrgyz art more than any other visit in the country did. The people were nice and accommodating and didn’t laugh at us too hard when they had us make our own little carpet out of scraps.
That’s right – they made us do art. The lady instructing us on how to make the main type of carpet showed us every step of the process and then made us create the design and then physically make the carpet. It was embarrassing! Neither of us are artistic, and when put on the spot we are almost anti-artistic. Also, it’s a very physical process that I imagine takes a lot of practice to get the hang of, so our first attempts at dancing and stomping on the rolled up bamboo holder to squeeze the water out was, well, not graceful.
First, you take metal rods and beat the tufts of felt so they are soft, I guess, as in the picture above. Then, you arrange your design on a bamboo frame, pictured below with the lady laying out the base brown square.
Then we added bits of colored felt on top of the brown square to make our gorgeous design, after which the lady rolled it up in the bamboo, tied the rolled up tube with rope, poured boiling water over the rolled up tube, and used the rope to squeeze it, DANCED on the tube, then made US dance on it and jump up and down on it for 10-15 minutes to get the water out, lather rinse repeat, and then unroll the tube and marvel at your beautiful art as you wash it with cold water and soap.
well this is embarrassing
Are you guys ready to see the art we created? Are you? Remember than everyone on my mom’s side of the family (EVERYONE) is like a professional artist. I did not inherit those genes.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. It’s BARELY our initials. (Ed. note: this is now framed and hanging in our living room.)
After we were hailed and celebrated as Kyrgyzstan’s most acclaimed artistes, they feted us with a lovely lunch in the yurt-for-show in the backyard. We had so much nice food and guess what the main event (for me) was? LENTIL SOUP! What a happy day!
eating yurts are better than sleeping yurts
After lunch, we packed up our gorgeous piece of wet wool and started the drive around Issyk-Kul lake, which we would eventually go completely around. We drove along the southern side, going counterclockwise (or anti-clockwise as they say in the UK, one of the things I fully approve of). Issyk-Kul lake is the largest lake in Kyrgs and second largest saltwater lake in the world (after the Caspian). The name means ‘warm lake’ because, despite being in the Tian Shan mountains which are all snow capped in these parts, it never freezes. Well aren’t you lucky! The drive for the few hours to the Fairytale Canyon was so beautiful! Yay water! I love water! And it was regular summer warm now! The view from the car was so fun – beautiful lake and beach and swimmers on the left, desert and mountains on the right. Kyrgyzstan had ALL the climates and environments all at the same time!
looking to the left
looking to the right
looking to the right a minute later
We hiked around Fairytale Canyon and saw how the gorgeous peaks and cliff faces really did look like something out of a fairy tale! From a magical elephant to a castle in the sky, everywhere we turned had a spellbinding view. We barely made a dent in this huge place. Despite all the wonderful sights, the clearest memory we took away with us of Fairytale Canyon was the white man standing outside the entrance wearing a Ben Carson for President t-shirt. We COULD NOT.
Anyway, here are some pretty pictures of the parts that didn’t make us lose even more faith in humanity.
NOT CHINA!
ALSO NOT CHINA
PARTING THE MOUNTAIN SEA
CASTLE ON A CLOUUUUUUUD
DORK
I’m in a fairy tale and not the shitty new season of Once Upon A Time kind!
After we explored this spectacular canyon, we drove back to the lake shore for a swim! Yayyyy it was time to swim! We changed into our suits in the car (this is MUCH HARDER to do than Jennifer Grey made it look in Dirty Dancing. I was cursing that movie for days afterward) and relaxed in the beautiful blue water. I know what you’re thinking – wait, this is all the same day? All these varied and fun activities in one day? I know! In one day we’re doing more than we did in a week on the Mongolia country tour. (Ok one day I will be done bashing that.) You know how much I love water – in drinking form, melon form, and looking at form, so it should be no surprise that swimming in form also makes me sublimely happy.
Issyk Kul was SO lovely
I FUCKING HATE THIS HAT
The water was cold but it was so fun to be swimming again. We had a great time, except for the CRAZY lady with her family nearby who splashed us and wouldn’t leave us alone. She was a lunatic and we tried to say please leave us alone and she just kept saying (in Russian) GO UNDER GO UNDER AHHAHAH I’M A LUNATIC! It was infuriating but luckily didn’t ruin our time.
Like I said before, Issyk-Kul is the second largest saline lake in the world. Sacha told us some facts about it, and said that “the lake is a little salty” because 260 rivers flow into it and none flow out of it. And then he said it’s also salty because of all the tourists. And we laughed and he kept going, saying “and tourists and no toilets!” and we laughed and then he said to himself (but I heard!) in his thick Russian accent “this is a joke” and I almost threw up trying not to throw up laughing at this without him knowing I heard.
seriously the view from the lake. we could see snow-capped mountains from our swim!
At our next guest house
After our swim, we drove the rest of the way to the village of Tamga, where we were staying in a LOVELY little guest house run by a LOVELY older couple. It was such a nice place. There were other tourists there but none staying on our floor of the one house (there were two houses) so it was like we were alone in a house! I had my own bathroom! Dance emoji dance emoji! The husband and wife running things used to be serious mountain climbers and so the dining area was decorated with absolutely incredible photos of their most impressive treks and climbs up the snowiest and tallets of peaks. The house had an exquisite garden that made us really jealous as we have not been able to keep a plant alive on our patio as of yet. Our room was the standard little basic with the single beds but it was clean and nice. All the vegetables and fruit came straight from the garden, and you could tell. I almost didn’t even care about having more cucumber and tomato and eggplant and tomato and peppers and tomato when they were that fresh. I cared a little. They also grew apricots and made delicious apricot jam. Best of all, they had wifi! It was super weak but enough that I could send a few texts to my fam and send a few angry tweets to Trump defenders. What a great day! Will day 5 continue the fun? Find out soon on the next episode of “how many times will she pee today, Johnny!” Byeees.
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New Orleans Travel Guide: Who Dat?
NEW ORLEANS, LOUISIANA
This is not Disney World! I’ve never been there.
WHO DAT!
My boyfriend I mean my fiance I mean my husband! and I finally made it to New Orleans! As some of you know, we were supposed to go to the Big Easy Apple Patch in January, but that ridiculously crazy ice storm back in January 2014 that destroyed Atlanta and Mississippi also closed all roads leading into NOLA. Here’s a really scary picture we took as we “drove” (slowly glided) through the streets of ice in Brookhaven, Mississippi as we tried to find shelter. Petrifying.
My boyfriend I mean my fiance I mean my husband! and I finally made it to New Orleans! As some of you know, we were supposed to go to the Big Easy Apple Patch in January, but that ridiculously crazy ice storm back in January 2014 that destroyed Atlanta and Mississippi also closed all roads leading into NOLA. Here’s a really scary picture we took as we “drove” (slowly glided) through the streets of ice in Brookhaven, Mississippi as we tried to find shelter. Petrifying.
Seriously, I hope this experience has taught the south about salt trucks.
So that trip didn’t happen, but then we decided to get married so we could go to New Orleans for a mini honeymoon/’wee agavemoon’! Yay!!! I got scared that maybe the universe didn’t want us to ever get there, especially after we had a flight delay, but we got there and we loved it SO HAH UNIVERSE.
Our mini honeymoon in New Orleans started off kind of hilariously (mostly awfully) as we laughed at this sign in the cab (at right). Like…did you have to specify that it’s a crime to kill a cab driver? Do the type of people who normally go to New Orleans not realize that cab drivers are people too, and that killing anyone is wrong? I don’t know why but we found this hilarious. Also, we loved the “may be first degree murder”, not “is first degree murder”, because of course, what if the cab driver attacks and you retaliate in self-defense? Or like if he is driving while sleeping with your wife so it’s heat-of-passion manslaughter? Likely story.
Anyway! We had scoured TripAdvisor for the past few months to make sure that our hotel choice, the Bourbon Orleans right in the heart of the French Quarter, was a good one. It seemed like a good fit: perfect location, had a pool (that we didn’t use), room looked swanky. And, the most important, it had water and unsweetened tea dispensers in the lobby all day and night!
Anyway! We had scoured TripAdvisor for the past few months to make sure that our hotel choice, the Bourbon Orleans right in the heart of the French Quarter, was a good one. It seemed like a good fit: perfect location, had a pool (that we didn’t use), room looked swanky. And, the most important, it had water and unsweetened tea dispensers in the lobby all day and night!
Heaven! This is my heaven!
So we got there hours after check-in time, but our room wasn’t ready. The not-so-nice lady didn’t even apologize or give a reason, just said it wasn’t ready. So we waited, but after about 35 minutes, I was steaming. I went up to the desk, talked to a man and said UMMM WHADDAFOCK? (effectively) He apologized and then looked down at his computer while I was standing there and I was thinking like…um…do I leave now? But then he looked up and said he found us a different room that was ready, that we could have for no extra charge “if we wanted” – a TWO-FLOOR suite with an enormous corner balcony overlooking the famous St. Louis cathedral. I mean, hot damn. Yes please.
The first floor! 
The second floor! 
Our enorme’ balcony |
How excited am I 
I don’t normally like sharing bathroom photos, but this shower had a half door just like they do in London! So ridic! Our wraparound balcony could have hosted a party for the entire town! We didn’t spend much time out there, unfortunately, because hot air rises. August in New Orleans is hella hot! The locals we talked to were like, yeah we take 4 showers a day. Ahh!
After just a few hours in the city, we realized the ubiquity of ‘Who Dat’. I mean, I knew maybe that it was a thing they said about the New Orleans Saints, but apparently it’s more than that. People just say Who Dat about everything. Like this sign: |
whaaaaaa?
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Also, this has no context but it was my favorite thing! It’s a tree covered in bead necklaces and it just makes me happy! |
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One night, after we ate two dinners (which you can read about tomorrow in the New Orleans food guide!), we walked through the old towne (with an ‘e’ obviously) and wandered into one of the many hot sauce & praline shoppes (with a ‘pe’ obviously). This store had hundreds of hot sauce bottles set up for testing, along with baskets of chips. I casually tried a couple, not really looking at the bottles or reading signs, mostly because I love tortilla chips (I hate potato chips but corn chips? Gimme I got it). Ya know, just casual, eating some chips…and then I started feeling like my body was imploding. I looked down to see if I was still in one piece or if somehow my abdomen had been disappeared, and then I looked up and around with eyes wide with fear. Whatttttt waaaaaaassssssssss happeningggggggggg tooooo meeeeeeeeeeee! This man about my age came up to me and asked, “Hey…um…which one did you have?” I pointed to the green bottle in the back and only then did I realize that it had WAIVER FORMS in front of it.
It was the NAGA JOLOKIA, aka the Ghost Pepper, aka the Bhutan poison chili aka the hottest pepper not only in the store but ON EARTH! And I just ate it because I like chips! I mean. Wow. Husband was like WHAT THE HELL OMG HAHAHAHA. And then it started pouring rain and even though I was wearing a white dress I dawdled outside with my mouth open. Before that point in my life, I had never cried without producing tears or moving my face, but somehow, that night, I did.
We strolled a bit so I could regain consciousness, but strolling around aimlessly is the best thing to do in a new city anyway! You get a feel for it – and you learn how to get to your hotel. Once I recovered, we went to CVS for some supplies and saw this hilarious lineup of goods:
The fridge only had wine |
Chocolate wine! Barfolomew! |
Tell me again why I didn’t get these? |
AMERICA.
* * *
The mighty Mississippi!
One early ass morning, we took a National Park Service walking tour that mostly shared information about NOLA’s birth and early development. I love taking walking tours to show you a different part of the city that you may not have discovered yet, and of course to learn! (Of course I don’t really remember what I learned, except that they lied a bunch to get people to move there.) I highly suggest taking this free walking tour, but get there early as they do cap the group at around 10 people (so fance). We had trouble finding the right meeting spot – there are six sites of the Jean Lafitte National Historical Park (everything in this region is called Lafitte because he was a pirate and New Orleans loves Johnny Depp). The right spot to meet is 419 Decatur St.
After that, we checked out the inside of the St. Louis Cathedral instead of just looking at it from our sick balcony. It was a lovely church but the view from the outside, with its fantastic green space in front, is better. I mean once you’ve seen the Vatican you are kind of ruined for regular churches.
Oh look this is a church a what a church
The plaque says “Allison ‘Big Chief Tootie’ Montana”. I liked that the male chief’s name was Allison and he probably didn’t get any flack from idiots. Yay unisex names! |
We also walked through Louis Armstrong Park in the Treme (not just a tv show), which apparently you aren’t supposed to visit at night, or alone. This park is the home of Congo Square, the place where slaves would congregate on Sundays, their day off, and play music and dance.
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MUSIC! (and the alcohol that apparently goes with it)
One night, way past my bedtime, we made our way to the well-known and awesome bar d.b.a. to see the well-known and AWESOME Glen David Andrews band. Oh man was this guy an entertainer extraordinaire! First of all, the bar itself was a superb venue (at least compared to where we were the following night). It seemed clean for a bar, it was roomy, and it had quite a sophisticated bar menu. Second, Glen was such a fun, crazy guy, and he works his ass off to entertain you. We are still laughing because the band performed the most hilarious songs – one about how they would ‘make that mo***f****’ shake (that mofo in question? The headboard), a lotttt about his ex-wife, who is apparently the worrrrrst, and best of all, my favorite thing to come out of NOLA, my favorite new song of the summer – one that went “I will I will I will I will I will MELT YO ASS LIKE BUTTER!” oh my god we were dying, and singing that nonstop for the following…eternity.
The saxophone player was the most impressive I’ve ever seen, not that I’ve ever really paid attention to the instrument before, no matter how hard Duke Silver tries to sway me. Every bit he played felt like a spotlight solo. Just a fantastic performance that made me forget how late I was up. This was the musical highlight of my week, and the cover was only $5! If you are ever in NOLA, I am pretty sure that Glen and his band play at d.b.a. every Monday.
The second night (we saw music every day!) we went closer to the West Bank (not that one) for the Maple Leaf Bar, a very Tulane kids bar, for a concert by Grammy-winning brass band Rebirth. They play big, loud, jazzy…brass band music, which is like paying to see a live headache. They are very talented and good but it is not my cup of tea. However, I may have been biased because the crowd was from hell. I hate college kids. Oh my god. I hated college kids when I was one. This was like a room full of every awful stereotype, so much drinking and pushing and shoving and being dumb. Ugh! I wish I had a mirror for them that showed their future selves looking reproachfully at them, in order to make them take stock of their shitty behavior. The best part about this show, however, was that famous NOLA artist Frenchy, with a canvas set up right behind where I was standing, was documenting the scene in a crazy cool painting that he will probably sell for many thousands of dollars while an angel sings “Beauty School Dropout” to him.
“Do you see how cool this is!”
Another night, we took the ferry (yay ferry!) across the Mississippi River to Algiers Point to see the Iguanas play, plus a special guest I’m sorry I can’t remember. They were decent entertainment, but the real draw was the location itself. Algiers Point is a big open spot of land that every Wednesday hosts pretty much the entire local community, with lots of food trucks and drinks tables set up. It really seemed like every local was there, with entire families and babies and so many dogs! There was such a good communal vibe and a friendly relaxed atmosphere, with everyone sitting on chairs or blankets they brought.
Our last night we went to the very famous Lafitte’s, where only candles are used for light in the entire place (no electrical lights, hence no pictures came out!). This old-fashioned décor creates a dreamy relaxed vibe (or maybe the darkness just made me tired). A pianist played right near our table, and she was pretty great to listen to, if not for her vocal health (you can still smoke in bars here, I think she has inhaled too much secondary smoke) then at least for her song selection. It’s definitely a must, not only for this atmosphere, but because they are the famous makers of the Hurricane, New Orlean’s most famous alcoholic concoction. Lafitte’s isn’t the original creator of the Hurricane but it is supposedly the perfecter. I can’t say because it tasted like alcohol. It’s a potent mix of rum and syrup, grenadine, or fruit juice. Some kind of highly concentrated sugar. We shared one and I stomached maybe 4 sips. My favorite thing at Lafitte’s though was our friend’s PURPLE DRANK. Oh my god Purple Drank is the most hilarious thing ever. It is a frozen…purple drink… that tastes EXACTLY like Dimetapp. Did you take Dimetapp when you were sick as a kid? It’s like grape flavored but in the artificial way that is really more purple than grape? Well, Purple Drank is like a Dimetapp slushee. It’s HILARIOUS. I’m not exaggerating when I say it was exactly like the cough medicine. Oh my goodness it’s so funny. If I didn’t know better, I would say that each drank is a bottle of Dimetapp blended with ice. I mean it could be, I don’t know better.
BAYOU AND PLANTATION TOURS
Sonofagun, we’ll have big fun on the bayou
On our last full day in NOLA, we stole a car and drove about an hour out of town to take a boat tour on the bayou. We went with Jean Lafitte’s Swamp Tours. (We originally had booked a time with Honey Island Tours, but we weren’t going to make it so we called to cancel our booking – three hours before the time – yet they still charged our credit card for it. Not cool bitches.) It was fun to see all the alligators – so many! – but the tour guide was not my fave. (He talked a lot about hunting and other not nice things.) But, a bayou tour is still a definite if you have the time. It took about 2 hours. It’s cool to see all the wildlife in the area. And, funnily enough, on our tour we passed a good amount of set pieces from “NCIS: New Orleans”, which we also saw filming outside our hotel one day! We didn’t see any famous people, but we did see one of their like male-top-half mannequin bodies floating in the bayou. Now that was kind of freaky at first, to say the least.
It’s a turtle! |
There’s a gator! 
Lots of gators! |
After the boat tour, we drove another hour and change to Laura Plantation. Originally, I felt weird to be touring a site of so much torture and suffering, but we chose Laura because reviews said they devote at least half the time to talking honestly about slavery. So, like all terrible historic sites, it was a great learning experience and it felt important to see. Our tour guide was really likeable and knowledgeable, and she struck the proper tone, sharing serious information but having everyone enjoy their visit. We learned about the owning family, and how some of them seemed like good people but then some were truly truly evil. We walked around slave quarters and were told that, despite all the wars and the fighting, the plantation was still operating almost exactly as it was in the 1800s – until 1977. How is that even possible? That is so disturbing and soul-crushing. What the hell. We also learned that despite the result of the Civil War and subsequent legislation, nothing really changed on any plantation. Oh man. I don’t even have words. How is this shit even possible? Ughh people STOP BEING RACIST. It’s shattering to realize that people who still perpetrate racist criminal activity are never really punished themselves. The tragedy and subsequent activity in Ferguson was happening while we were here, and it really brought to light how much work still has to be done. Those cops, probably all of them and all of their superiors, should be in jail for what they did and continue to do. But probably nothing will happen to them. It’s a terribly shitty world and we have to do what we can to make it better, as much as we can. So be nice to people, go vegan, &c.
ANYWAY, there were some bright spots on the tour, including the fact that the stories of Bre’r Rabbit came from this plantation, from the slaves who created the stories to entertain and teach the children. They also had these SUPER ridiculous books in the gift shop. I still can’t get over them:
WHO DAT! 
SERIAL KILLER FACE FFS. |
THE CHILDREN’S EDITION. 
WHY IS SHE DRESSED AS THE DEVIL? ON THE COVER???? |
Seriously, do you see how creepy this kid’s face is in the Kiss me I’m Cajun tee? THIS IS THE COVER OF A COOKBOOK FFS! And the devil costume! I can’t even.
Down the road from Laura is the plantation used to film “12 Years A Slave”! How crazy! It wasn’t open for visitation before the movie, but now it is. We drove by and took a picture.
Car window shot lol
New Orleans is a really fun place to visit. Bourbon Street is full of debauchery and drunken naked people even at 10am. But when you get away from those few blocks, the city has so much great culture, art, music, and of course food – which we will cover the rest of this week! – to offer. The last place we visited was the famous Saint Louis Cemetery, which is filled with interesting stories, from voodoo queens to Nicholas Cage. That’s right, the actor Nicholas Cage built himself a tomb a few years ago in this cemetery because he loves New Orleans and wants to be buried there. How creepy is that!!! I leave you with his tomb, which has a plaque covered in actual lipstick kisses.
Nicholas Cage’s tomb
Yekaterinburg to Irkutsk: Three Days of Train
June 29 – July 2
Dear little baby laptop diary,
I titled this post after one of the most random Broadway plays I’ve ever seen, “Three Days of Rain”, with Julia Roberts making her lackluster debut, Paul Rudd just being our universal boyfriend, and a not-very-famous Bradley Cooper, whom I knew from Alias and was super excited about. Who knew that in a few short years he would be the biggest star of the bunch! Anyway, it was a kind of boring show, and that’s all I remember, which is a shame because I am currently on a train with two days and two nights left to go, and I would like to be thinking about a play instead. How is it going so far, you ask? Let’s just say if I didn’t want to talk so much about Broadway whenever I had the chance, this post would have simply been called Three Days of Pain.
Dear little baby laptop diary,
I titled this post after one of the most random Broadway plays I’ve ever seen, “Three Days of Rain”, with Julia Roberts making her lackluster debut, Paul Rudd just being our universal boyfriend, and a not-very-famous Bradley Cooper, whom I knew from Alias and was super excited about. Who knew that in a few short years he would be the biggest star of the bunch! Anyway, it was a kind of boring show, and that’s all I remember, which is a shame because I am currently on a train with two days and two nights left to go, and I would like to be thinking about a play instead. How is it going so far, you ask? Let’s just say if I didn’t want to talk so much about Broadway whenever I had the chance, this post would have simply been called Three Days of Pain.
After our 24 hour stay in Yekaterinburg – our lovely, fancy-hotel-staying-to-reward-ourselves-after-the-24-hour-train-and-to-treat-ourselves-before-the-3-day-train stay- we boarded The Train. This would be our longest train journey yet, longer than the baby-sized sleepers we’d done so far, longer than when we took Amtrak from Chicago to San Francisco and thought we were so brave. I want to slap old me across the face. Amtrak was luxury. We had a tinier cabin but it was just the two of us, and man alive if I ever slam Amtrak bathrooms again, remind me of where we are now. I would kill for an Amtrak bathroom on this train. We boarded 10pm Thursday, as I write it is 2pm Friday, and we get off this Snowpiercer on SUNDAY at noon. SUNDAY. From boarding THURSDAY! Guysss I don’t know if I’m going to make it. Well if anyone is actually reading this it means I made it, because there’s no wifi so I have to post this after we disembark on that magical day (and actually, after I post all the other posts that come chronologically before this because that’s how I want to do it), BUT STILL, who knows how changed I will be. Who knows if I will still have the same likes, the same dreams and passions, the same hair or if I tore it all out in a ravenous fit of cabin fever unchecked by all the Ativan Caki gave me (thank you Caki)? Will I even be human? Are we human or are we dancers? It’s already starting, see.
Oh dear sweet little baby 8 pound 6 ounce newborn infant laptop, don’t even know a word yet…
We boarded last night and found an empty cabin, which was nice so we could put all our stuff away without bothering people already there (this train started all the way back in Moscow). A very clean surprisingly non-smelly older gentleman (our first non-smelly gentleman in the whole country!) joined us, and he was fine. It was a lucky roommate to have! He was a history professor who was very nice and we chatted for like a minute before we all went to sleep. Perfect! Unfortunately, it was short-lived. The train made approximately 25 stops during the night, during which I started thinking about how excited my brother is for the new “Murder on the Orient Express” movie (me too what a cast hooray for Baby Leslie Odom (I decided to call everyone who is a ‘Jr.’ just ‘Baby’ instead, shout out to Baby Robert Downey)) but then of course I started THINKING about Murder on the Orient Express and how I’m as close right now to that situation as I’ll ever be and these strangers are always in our cabins and everyone smells bad and has knives because we all came prepared with days of food and the appropriate cutlery and I was like don’t let anyone stab anyone tonight Dame Judy! So then I couldn’t sleep for a while. I finally started to maybe get closer to sleep, despite the rocking motion of this train being worse than the downtown trains of the NYC subway the ones you cannot possibly try to surf hands-free during else you’ll fly into the opposite end of the carriage, and much worse than the tube with all its own dragon noises and bumping and creaking and omg. But then, at 4am, our friendly cabinmate got off at his stop. Lucky guy was only on a train for 6 hours! That’s nothing! Then, unfortunately, it started. The kind of cabinmates I had feared started coming in our room. Our first new cabinmate was a smelly Russian man about our age who immediately took his shirt off and let the smell fester even more. I was on a bottom bunk, Husband was on the top, and Shirtless Youth was on the other top. Then a few hours later after another frighteningly jerky stop, our next cabinmate arrived. He is maybe in his 40s, maybe 50, and he is a giant flesh person. He is just a giant sack of human. This is a tiny f-ing cabin and either his endless flesh or his even worse stench is EVERYWHERE. We can’t put our legs down to sit on my bunk because his are there. We can’t breathe without breathing in his b.o. He is scratching right now while humming. He scratches his uncovered skin (he’s wearing shorts and like a belly shirt) and flicks whatever comes up all while humming, Guys. I’m trying to be strong and brave and grateful. I am grateful that he doesn’t smell like smoke. That’s literally all I got.
I thought the unwritten but definite rule of these cabins was that whoever is on the top gets to sit on the bottom bunk on their side during the day and use the little table for their meals. Each side keeps to themselves. I begrudgingly learned this on our first long train when Husband and I both had bottoms so the woman on top of mine sat on my bed a lot. I learned, great, that’s how it’s done, she can’t prepare her food and eat up top. OK, I got it, sorry I gave you a bad look. But this morning, after I exercised outside our door in the hallway (there’s a bar running down the hallway of our cabin, it’s tight but it’s enough space to do barre exercises like I’m a GODDAMN BALLERINA and lots and lots of squat variations and calf raises. No one was up when I was out there so I also got out my resistance bands and worked my back so darn happy about that I think I’d go insane if I was cooped up here and couldn’t at least try to work a muscle), I came back to sit on my bed and read and Shirtless Youth was sitting on my pillow by the table making his breakfast. Like. NO. You get the bottom bunk and table part from the guy BELOW YOU. That’s the rule!! Omg! I guess he literally couldn’t because the Giant Flesh Ball Man was oozing out everywhere you turned and they couldn’t both sit on that bunk, but still, that’s not my problem man! I waited outside and did more calf raises and then when he got up I claimed my spot back and haven’t left since. Except to pee in the literal pits of despair. These toilets are so grimy and sludgy and I’m spending so much time in there because I pee a lot and Husband and I brought 15 liters of water on this trip with us and I have to drink it even though I fear it’s not enough for three days. That’s for two people! (We each carried a 5L jug and had three 1.5L bottles between us and I also had about 1/2 liter left in another bottle. Hey I guess that is 16L maybe we will make it.)
OH MY GOD Giant Flesh Ball just went to the bathroom and came back shirtless and is now putting deodorant on while sitting next to me I am going to vomit. OH my god Shirtless Youth is also still shirtless and just got down from his top bunk by jumping onto my bed with his smelly feet right on my sheets, right next to my physical body. He was just ‘cleaning’ his grundle with his towel I cannot believe this. GFB Man is still humming and now is drumming his fingers in rhythm the whole time on the table omg I am going to LOSE MY MIND.
Oh wait. Oh my god they both seem to be getting dressed! And not in their smelly sleep clothes, in real clothes with buttons and things! Ahh praise Jesus are they disembarking? Did we reach their stop? Or did we reach my melting point? We don’t stop for like 30 minutes I cannot wait to see how this goes! I’m so nervous and excited and scared that I’m getting my hopes up! Are they going?? Will our new neighbors be even worse? Even smellier? Even more in my personal space? Why do men think they have the right to my personal space? I guess we will see what happens in 30 minutes when we stop at some combination of letters I already forgot. I have to go pee before they lock the bathrooms at the stop (they get locked at every stop because, well, because everything ‘flushes’ onto the track, so at least it’s a civilized reason). We will see what happens.
Oh my god she already locked the bathroom! We don’t arrive at the stop for another 30 minutes this is INHUMAN. GFB Man is brushing his crumbs from his side of the table towards me and the computer. That’s just swell of you. He’s still humming. Shirtless Maybe-Not-So-Young Man is now shirtless again, despite having dressed himself five minutes ago, so I have less hope of his departure now. He’s also sitting on his top bunk with his feet hanging off pretty much in my face (it’s tiny room) and they smell so bad my eyes are tearing. I’m also equally frightened that if they do get off, our newbies will be even worse. What if THEY reek of smoke? Ughhh that would be worse. And we have TWO FULL DAYS LEFT. Two more sleepless nights. Two more days of having to time my bathroom breaks between frequent stops. Two more days of constant Purell because there’s no soap in the bathrooms. Two more days of using precious bottled water to brush my teeth and wash my face because the train water would give me cholera. Two more days without contacts because no way I’m touching my eyes. Actually that last one is good, my eyes need a break from contacts.
While I wait on my ability to pee and breathe from the smelly guys maybe leaving and cry from possibly worse new cabinmates, I will tell of all the food we had to buy and bring onboard for 3 days. No meals are included in our ticket and the dining car is very expensive, but also I think they have zero options for me anyway. Husband will check it out later or tomorrow I’m sure (we can’t both leave, someone has to guard our stuff). So in Yekaterinburg, we found a few giant supermarkets that were very expensive (they had no cheap supermarket, so weird! No little bodegas like have been all over the rest of Russia either). We found lots of good treats and bought a lot, but considering it’s three days worth of food for two people it’s probably just right. We bought jars of white beans in tomato sauce with some veg in there, which I’m sooo pumped about. Like mamma ‘taliano looking stuff, I hope. We also found vegetarian grape leaves in a can, another tomato sauced bean thing in a can, and lots of bread. And we brought that fantastic Russian staple, instant kasha! Sooo good. I used to think kasha was just a part of that disgusting Main Line Jewish dish of kash’ n’ bowties but aside from that it’s actually really good. And good for you! Along with cucumbers, tomatoes, and pickles (probably not the best idea because they smell, but if people don’t care how their bodies smell why should I care how my food smells), and more apples and orange, we are set. Plus we found a lot of chocolate in Yekaterinburg so happy dance. And cookies! Every city we’ve been in so far, I’ve scoured ingredient labels and found one package of accidentally vegan cookies. Never the same one, so we’re on our third try. The chocolate chip ones in St. Pete’s were still the best, but the cinnamon ones in Moscow were very yummy too. I will report back on these weird blueberry puffballs I found! I hope that when we eat all this stuff I don’t have a Meg Ryan in “French Kiss” train moment (LACTOSE INTOLERAAAAANCE who knows it? best movie ever I pretend Kevin Kline won his Tony a few weeks ago as a belated gift for “French Kiss”).
quick cooking kasha! |
this chocolate bar is ALL OVER the country !! accidentally vegan wooohooo |
these amazing Trader Joe’s finds are gonna get me through! Brought two bags! |
found these amazing dehydrated veggie crackers at Veggie Bro in Vladimir (go back and read about it if you missed it last week!) |
There are good things. I got to have an instant Quaker oatmeal packet for breakfast today, which is (I’m sorry) one of my favorite foods and one of the easiest things to make because of the samovar in our carriage (every carriage has a samovar of endless (god I hope!) hot water, so anything instant is good). We also use the boiled water to clean our dishes and stuff. I read “Between the World in Me” already, which was wonderful, “The Days of Abandonment”, which I actively despised (sorry Kip), and David Sedaris’s new diary-entry book, which is better in short bursts than all at once. I also reread dear sweet Nora’s “I Feel Bad About My Neck” because it’s the best. I have a lot of podcasts on my phone, and I could listen to at least half of one Gilmore Guys (or five regular length podcasts) before my battery dies. Also, there are really nice Dutch women with two little kids down the car who we are talking to a bit. They smell fine. It’s a treat.
Well, back to reality. The two smelly guys did indeed get off. But we immediately got two new Russian men who…I’m not yet sure, but I think they might be worse. They’re meaner, that’s for sure. When they came by, I said hello (in Russian) and smiled and they didn’t even blink or glance at me just threw their stuff on their bunks and went back out. WTF. A few minutes later, Husband did the same thing when they returned and again, no eye contact, no utterance of any kind in our direction. Stupid Russian jerks! Fine don’t talk to us, that’s good for me. But they smell a little smoky, which better not get worse. I’m promising myself two things: If they ‘magically’ get smokier (meaning they’ve smoked on the train, which is not allowed), I am going to say something (I am able to say ‘you smoked? where? not allowed!”); and if they sit on my bed at any point I am putting my foot down and getting super scary and yelling “NYET! that is your side, and this is our side.” I think I know how I say that. They know each other so that makes it easier. I hope it doesn’t come to my having to yell in very poor Russian at men I have to sleep next to for at least one night. Their phone noises are on, too, which is a big no-no, and just as the icing on the cake, their phone noises are incredibly loud bits of very bad songs.
Dear little baby laptop, lying there in your ghost manger, just watching your Baby Einstein developmental videos, learning about shapes and colors…
Guys! The men all left super quickly and we had the cabin to ourselves for dinnertime on the second night! Then an army man joined us and was so well behaved and organized (and made his bed immaculately in 8 seconds flat, we were very embarrassed about how ours looked after that). He smells fine! The Dutch family down the hall has become our friends, and they are vegetarian so we are going to all meet in Mongolia (where we all end up for Naadam) at Loving Hut! And there’s a Danish girl (not to be confused with The Danish Girl) about our age who is now also our friend and we will probably see in Mongolia! Things are looking up in Duloc! Oh man it all really depends on your cabinmates, I guess. Well but the constant bathroom locking is terrible, especially for me, so that is really rough. But with decent, nonsmelly roommates this whole train thing might actually be…fun? Okay obviously I need a nap since I’m clearly losing it.
