"Follies" at London's National Theatre: All the Middle-Aged Crises Plus Lots of Feathers and Sequinsby Randi / November 9, 2017
After our perfectly lovely time in Almaty, Kazakhstan, it was time to cross into our final ‘stan, the one most believed of Herman Cain: Uzbekistan. There was no easy direct way to go from Almaty to our first destination in Uzbekistan – Tashkent – so we had to take an overnight train (but of course!) to Shymkent, Kazakhstan first, then get a taxi to the border, cross the border, and then get another taxi from the other side of the border to Tashkent. It was exhausting just to think about, but considering how relatively well our travels had gone so far, I was optimistic that it wouldn’t be too troublesome. I think I’ve previously shared on this blog that IQ quote about being an optimist and fool? Yeah.
To relish our final moments of Almaty’s modernity, we got an Uber to the train station instead of arguing with taxi drivers. We would have enough of that the next day, oh boy, would we have enough of that. When the car was due to arrive I shut down the little baby laptop and prepared to put it away and get my giant pack on…and true to chitty, chitty form, Windows decided to install updates then. DO NOT SHUT OFF YOUR COMPUTER. You think that maybe it was one of those quick ones since they didn’t ask first? Here’s the picture I took.
150 UPDATES. What in tarnation is that about! This is the kind of bullshit that can put me off Windows forever. I had to hold my computer open in the car, in the train station, as we waited for and then boarded the train. Can you even picture how ridiculous this crap made me look? I had a giant backpack on my back, my stuffed daypack slung on one arm, my ticket in one hand, my passport open in the other, my purse hanging cross-body, and the laptop nested in the crook of my elbow. If I thought people had stared at me before in these parts just for being a Western female traveler, hoo boy, was I in for some learnin’.
Fortunately, this train helped to balance out the fury that the computer caused me. Because of some of the less-than-stellar experiences endured on the Chinese overnight trains, we decided that our first night back on the rails after so many weeks merited an upgrade! We got a private berth instead of sharing with 2+ randos (not to be confused with randis which are usually good) and it was GREAT. And clean! The little compartment had one set of bunk beds against one wall and a little vanity table with a (clean!) mirror and small table on the other side. I thought there was a closet but the inside door was a connecting one to the next compartment, for families I guess. Our neighbors were none-too-pleased when they realized someone was trying to open the door but they had a crying baby so it’s a draw. This little room was so nice, as was the train in general. The bathrooms weren’t horrifying, AND – there was a water cooler! Guysssss! I could refill my bottles with potable water! My baby nephew says to me “drink agua!” every time he sees my water bottle and you know what Huddybear? I did!
We placed the still-updating computer on that little table and left it to finish. When we went to sleep, it was at number 9. Of 150. In the morning, when it was at 33, we just shut it down and used up ALL of our restraint to not smash it into a thousand pieces.
As we waved goodbye to the European-style cosmopolitan vibe of Almaty, we knew we were saying goodbye to civilization in general for a good while. Our time in Uzbekistan would comprise experiences on the more raw, less modern side of things, as our itinerary tracked ancient Silk Road stops and historically important towns and landmarks that are more or less untouched since the old days. Meaning, it would be like stepping back in time, especially considering how modern the city we were coming from was. Bye civilization!
But we didn’t realize at first just how drastic the contrast would be and how quickly it would materialize. When we got off the train in Shymkent, we needed to get a taxi to the border with Uzbekistan, and it was quite the ordeal. We asked several drivers for prices but all were oodles more than they should have been according to literally every piece of information – internet, books, hostel employees, previous travelers. We talked to a woman at an information desk by the side of the road (I don’t know if it was official; it looked like the Bluth banana stand without bananas, which I wanted even more than information) who told us in Russian to take this bus that was there and that would do the job. We were about to board but with a little more questioning, we figured out that that bus just would take us into the city center, where we would have to find the bus that would actually take us to the border, or get a taxi. The extra step seemed incredibly unnecessary and unwanted, especially if we would end up needing to negotiate with a taxi there anyway. We might as well just do that now, we thought. So back we went to argue with taxi drivers. Finally we found one who offered a not too bad price, so we agreed and unloaded our stuff and got in and…didn’t leave. The driver instead started filling the other seats with other people. We sighed but this was to be expected, right. Finally the car was full and the driver starting driving and took us to…the other side of the train station. What’s going on, we asked, not actually wanting the answer because we knew there was some bullshit about to come our way. The driver indeed spewed some bullshit, telling us to get into this other van that was there, already full of people. So this driver we had found wasn’t actually going to ever take us to the border. He was taking us to his friend with a van. He actually had the gall to agree to something he was never intending to do and then DRIVE US 15 SECONDS TO ANOTHER PART OF THE STATION.
Oh man this shit was just the beginning.
We said are you kidding me, no f-ing way, we are not getting into another stuffed mashrutka and paying the price we agreed on as if we were getting a private taxi. So we went back to the front of the station and started all over again negotiating with drivers in Russian the best we could. One driver promised he would just take us and not fill the car with others and we said great let’s do it. We left the station, drove for five minutes down the main road…AND THEN TURNED BACK TO GO TO THE STATION. What the HELL is going on, we asked? OH – he had to pick up another person. At the station. That we had left. You said it would just be us and ALSO WTF, we said. That’s it just this one more, the driver promised. JFC, fine, we said, come on let’s go. We again left the station, and then the driver stopped the car along the side of the main road where a crowd of people were standing. He wanted to pick up another person from this crowd! And not someone he knew about, he was just going to ask if anyone needed a ride. FFS. We yelled HELL NO! Just take us to the f-ing border right now! He reluctantly left and started driving the three of us to the border — at the fastest speed I’ve EVER witnessed any car go, race cars in Talladega Nights included. I was petrified. This guy was such an asshole AND he was a dangerous driver?? Oh my god. We sped down the roads passing every car and weaving through lanes and cutting off EVERYONE else on the road and just holding on as tight as we could, terrified.
When we were sufficiently in the middle of nowhere, nowhere near anything we could see or walk to besides highway and desert, the driver pulled into a gas station along the side of the highway. He said he needed gas, and didn’t have money to pay for it, so we had to pay for it. Are you KIDDING ME? I started screaming at him in English, I knew he could understand my hatred and disgust at him even if he didn’t know every amazing curse word I used. We are not paying for your gas, you crook! But then he popped the trunk and started pulling our bags out, threatening to strand us along this highway in the middle of nowhere if we didn’t pay up. As much as I despise giving in to people like this, we really had no choice, so I gave him a little money. But no, that wasn’t enough. Apparently gas is very expensive in Uzbekistan or something because he kept asking for more. I really didn’t want to give any more and set a dangerous precedent in case he kept stopping along the way and demanding more money, but luckily that didn’t happen. Just this one instance of extortion so I guess we were lucky. He got back in the car — I don’t even remember if he actually pumped any gas — and flewww down the highway for another hour while I sent him death ray stares from the back seat. He drove mostly in between the two lanes, stopping anyone who dared even think about passing him. I continue to wish him very ill thoughts, naming him like Arya except I don’t know his name but the universe knows who I mean. Get ‘em.
Finally, finally, he dropped us near the border. We walked up to the gate, took a deep breath to get over the horrible experience we just miraculously survived, and then another deep breath to prepare for one we expected to be equally terrifying. See, the Uzbek border brings with it a lot of rules, and a lot of horror stories. We never heard anything as strict and scary as the stories about Uzbek border guards. They can delay travelers for hours, going through every single nook and cranny of their luggage, opening every container, going through pockets, everything. Worst of all, Uzbekistan has a VERY STRICT and VERY SERIOUS no-drug policy, and their list of banned substances includes things that we can get over the counter in many Western countries. So we had to be careful about every substance we were bringing in, and make sure we had prescriptions ready to show. But the banned substance list is serious, and it’s not something you can get around with a prescription. If you try to bring any of them in, you could go to jail. One of the substances on the banned list? Ativan. I know. Because we did our homework (do your homework!), we knew about this trouble before we left for the summer, so I only packed about as much Ativan as I thought I’d need up until this day, so I wouldn’t have to throw much out. I still had a few extra I had to toss back in Kazakhstan, but nothing worth crying over. It’s just so funny and perfect that the one thing that would have helped me deal with the shitshow that was this country was the one thing I had that they outlaw. COOL GUYS.
When we got through Kazakh exit, we were given the forms. We knew we had to declare every kind of currency we had on us and in what amounts, so we had counted up all our shiz on the train. This is more annoying than it sounds when you have traveled to 10 countries! We had dollars, we had euros, we had pounds, we had soooo much Chinese yuan that converted to like just a few dollars but takes up so much space, we had Mongolian money, we had roubles (a significant amount since we would return to Russia after Uzbekistan), we had Kyrgyz money, Kazakh money. Man alive this really makes one appreciate the euro zone. We wrote everything down and then had to declare our valuables, including our phones, readers, and the baby laptop. We had read about other white travelers who had to unpack everything and who were detained for hours so we were super nervous. But, luckily, the border guards on duty for us were SO excited to meet Western tourists that they were pretty much just friendly and trying to ask us all sorts of questions, not about what we were carrying but about us and the west and whatever. We SO lucked out. I mean there were no toilets anywhere to be found but still, quite lucky. I guess I could have brought my Ativan in after all but better to be safe than to end up in an Uzbek prison in the driest desert with no toilets, right.
Oh but then we had to find another taxi to take us to Tashkent. Guyssss. I never want to take a taxi again. But there are no buses! There’s no other way! You just find a guy with a car and you hope that they are trustworthy. Ish. We found an old man with an old car and mistakenly thought ‘hey maybe this old guy will be more legit and somewhat decent than the younger asshat men are.’ We showed him the name of our guest house in Tashkent and he said ‘oh yes I know that place!’ We were relieved. The guy drove us through the nothingness and into the city, where he immediately stopped, got out, and started chatting with two young women. What is going on NOW, we wondered. Then the two women got in the car with us. I know. What’s going on, we asked?? One of the women spoke a little bit of English and she explained that the driver didn’t know where the hostel was, so they were going to help them. Let’s go over this again. The man who told us he was familiar with the hostel not only lied about that and didn’t know it, but DIDN’T EVEN KNOW THE ROAD IT WAS ON. And here’s the kicker – neither did the two women. They were just helping by using their phone maps –WHICH WE HAD TOO. And they showed us that they didn’t know how to read their phone maps, because WE were the ones who ended up instructing the driver on where to turn and how to f-ing drive. It was ludicrous and so frustrating and like, are there ANY taxi drivers in central Asia who aren’t complete assholes?
Finally, after we screamed NO, LEFT – NO YOUR OTHER LEFT about 40 times, we found our guest house, yelled at the driver to get out of our sight for ever and never come back here again, and entered the house eager to shower and relax. Naturally, the room wasn’t ready yet.
We’ll talk about that guest house and about the rest of Tashkent in the next post. Until then, I need to go take an ativan.
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Moscow, Russia: A Bustling City of Landmarks, Police, and Barricades
I honestly still don’t know how I feel about Moscow. We spent four days there, and saw all the things we wanted to see in four days, and I just feel like I don’t have a handle on the city. There’s a lot going on and every area feels like a different city or even country. The center is really fancy, with every high fashion design house and jewelry company represented on polished streets. But 10 minutes outside the center, and by the train stations, it looks like how we’d imagine Russia at the collapse of the Soviet Union. It’s all very incongruous, and not being able to grasp the correct mood of the city made me feel uneasy. Although, it could just be because of the P.O.S. hostel we stayed at!
We left St. Petersburg Wednesday night at 11:55pm on the famous Red Arrow sleeper train, Train #001, for Moscow. This was our first real leg of the Trans Siberian (or Trans Mongolian…or Trans Manchurian…we’re going to Mongolia & China so it’s like both/all/I don’t know). Oh we met some older tourists earlier that day or the day before who were Russian but lived in Miami. They asked what we were doing in Russia and we said “We’re doing the Trans Siberian Railway!” and the Russian Miami lady said “Oh is that a Jewish thing?” Like first of all what. Second of all what Russian person doesn’t know about their train system? Thirdly who says anything like that to 3 strangers who are combined only 1/6 Jewish? Was so weird! Who doesn’t know what the Trans Siberian is when you are IN Russia? So now every time we are faced with any sort of new thing we go “Oh is that a Jewish thing?” Amazing. So anyway, on our St. Petey-Moscow sleeper, we were in second class but it was the fanciest darn train I’ve ever seen. (What on earth is first class like!) I boarded with my teeth already brushed, my face already washed. I hurried to the bathroom in the train-provided slippers to take out my contacts and put on my pajamas, and then I was ready to snuggle into my clean white-sheeted bottom bunk when…our stranger cabinmate arrived! Second class means cabins of four beds, and we were three people, so we had a STRANGER! His name was Ivan and he was a Russian man, mid-30s I’d say. He was super nice and friendly and spoke enough English to get by with us, but that meant he was up for chatting AND he had a friend in the next cabin who came in and sat with us! On our beds ughhhh. It was after midnight and I wanted to sleep and I was so tired from all we’ve been doing and these two Russian guys were drinking and chatting for hours with the two American boys while I did the head-conk sleepy thing I used to do in Statistics. I mean trying to stay awake so strangers can drink and talk in your room after midnight when one of them isn’t even supposed to be there and in the best case you can only get like 6 hours of sleep and you have a HUGE day of sightseeing to do the next day isn’t exactly my idea of fun. But I’m weird like that.
Still, it was a beautiful train and a great experience – one which really spoiled me for the subsequent train journeys this trip, but we’ll get to that later. On this fancy train, they gave slippers and toothbrushes and little water bottles and breakfast cookies (not for me but still). Even though we didn’t get enough sleep, we were excited enough by our arrival in Moscow to charge through a whole day of stuff. We arrived at the train station which is in one of the not-nice areas and I was like oh hot damn, we’re not in Kansas anymore. We made our way to our hostel, which was luckily centrally located in the nice part of the city, so its location was 100% responsible for its high online rating. 7 minute walk from the Bolshoi Ballet, 15-20 from Red Square. The location was responsible for all its internet points, because it was a p.o.s. The teenagers ‘working’ there, and I use that word loosely, barely did anything at all. It was an ordeal to get them to do their job, like put toilet paper in the shared bathrooms. One of the guys working a few night shifts I think was just hanging around because he was the boyfriend of one of the actual employees. It was all very ridiculous and unprofessional. Speaking of those shared bathrooms, one for each sex, they each had one communal hand towel by the sinks. Those towels were not changed more than once in our four day stay. Husband said the men’s remained on the floor in a puddle the whole time. Worst of all, they didn’t have a water cooler or purifier like the last hostel did. We aren’t supposed to drink the tap water so we had to buy sooo much plastic. Ugh. All of this doesn’t even compare to how rude the other guests were. Loud talking all night, music, hell one guy was playing his ukulele at all hours and even though I really like the ukulele I think he put me off the ukulele for the near future. What a shame. But the winner was the guy who was skyping for three hours one night, seated at the small desk right outside our door. He had the loudest voice I’ve ever heard in my life and was a ridiculous person, talking about his views on Ukraine and how he wanted to protest something while in Russia and I was like omg you really are an idiot. When it got past midnight and we were still clearly hearing every painful word of his through our closed door, I went out and was like ARE YOU F-ING KIDDING ME? He moved to a standing wander outside the men’s dorm which I think went over with them equally well. I’m so glad to be done with that place (although I’m writing this from a tiny tiny train cabin shared with two strangers and what I would give for that private room right now.
The first thing on our agenda was to see Red Square, but Husband missed being away from work for so long apparently because the first thing we actually did in Moscow was meet his colleague at the Moscow office of his firm for coffee lololol. Really nice guy! I had two bottles of law firm water for free!
Red Square
GUUUUM
After dropping our bags, we immediately set out for Red Square. That’s the big f-ing thing to see, right? We wanted to see it straight away! (Look how British!) But the politzia had other things in mind. The entire area surrounding the Red Square was barricaded off and black sedans did what seemed like speed tests back and forth in front of the Four Seasons. People who spoke a little English said it was because that day marked an important day in Russian history, but I don’t know how the fake car chases help to celebrate it. With the entire central region cordoned off, it meant we could not get to the Red Square, St. Basils Tomb, the State History Museum, the Kremlin, Lenin’s Tomb, GUM (the department store that was the subject of literally every practice sentence in our first semester of Russian – “Where are you going?” “I’m going to GUM!” “Where can I buy souvenirs?” “You can buy souvenirs at GUM!” – so it was what we were most excited about in all of Moscow, I think. Pro tip, you can’t actually get souvenirs at GUM; it’s a super swanky mall now with every expensive designer you can think of represented, plus endless ice cream carts. We’ve never seen so many people constantly eating ice cream as we have in Russia). Our entire Moscow list was suddenly unavailable to us! So we decided to use that unfortunate turn to go out to the burbs to pick up the rest of our train tickets from the company we used to book them. (You can book them yourself, but we are on such a specific schedule, and it’s summertime so the routes fill up, so we didn’t want to risk it. Also, so far all our trains have been full, so it was worth it.)So at least we got that over with, but we still hadn’t seen really any of the city yet!
State HIstory Museum
Later that afternoon, we decided to try again, but nope, barricades everywhere you turn. Luckily, one of the guards at the barricades (you at the barricades listen to THIS! no one is coming to help you to fiiiiiight you’re on your oooown you have no frieeeends <– literally the meanest lyric in all of musical theatre) was able to communicate to us that Red Square itself was now open, but the gates remained all around – except for in one roundabout area which we directed us to. A little more walking (we’re walking like 10 miles a day erma my po po feet)and we finally made it to what we came for.
Mixed up files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler
The Red Square is impressive, mostly because of St. Basil’s Cathedral, the famous onion domes you know. It’s a lot smaller than we expected, but super gorgeous. We went inside immediately, and it’s surprisingly not a big hall like most other churches but is made up of tiny chapels and little staircases and alleys connecting all these disparate parts. I didn’t care much for the inside, especially after being blown away by the inside of the Church on Spilled Blood in St. Petersburg, but it’s still St. Basil’s and so famous and important so go if you want. The outside is where it’s at though.
One entire side of the square is GUM, one is the State History Museum (which Husband went to when I needed a morning off from museuming which was the best decision maybe I ever made), one is Basil’s, and one is the walled off border of the Kremlin, plus Lenin’s Tomb. We wanted to go to Lenin’s Tomb right after Basilypuddy but for some reason it was closed off. The guard said just ‘closed today’ and open tomorrow. The Tomb has very specific, short hours – just 10-1pm – so we were upset that we would have to fit it in another day. Guess what. It took four days of trying before it was actually open. “Historical days”, “Graduation”, more “Graduation” – guards over the next three days had all kinds of excuses ready for us as to why it was closed when it wasn’t supposed to be. So frustrating. When we finally got in, on our very last day, it was an hour and a half wait! 90 minutes in line just to see an embalmed body?
Not Lenin’s tomb but at Lenin’s tomb
Weird stuff inside guys
Oh that’s right, Lenin is literally displayed in a glass case (of emotion) like it’s an open casket at a funeral. He looks like he just died. They are embalming the crap out of him. It’s sooo weird. I knew he was like mummified somehow but I didn’t expect it to just be like ‘here, it’s a body like normal, except dead for decades’. I made several emoji faces during our hurried walk around the glass case (the many guards usher you along quickly (also no pictures allowed of course, would be too weird)) and I think the guards were laughing at me. It was so weird. I wonder if this was Lenin’s wish or if it was decided after he died. I hope his ghost isn’t like freaking out over being a tourist attraction. So weird.
Guarding Moscow’s Eternal Flame outside the Kremlin. Strangely this is a popular place for newlyweds to take photos – and indeed we saw some doing just that!
Inside the Kremlin – Cathedral Square
Another day was dedicated entirely to the Kremlin. Okay guys, if you are planning to go to Moscow soon and visit the Kremlin – which you should if you are there – know that it is an absolute shitshow to get in. Well, first of all, we had to change our designated day for visiting that due to “Graduation” a few times too! Moscow was entirely a city of barricades and police activity, always unexplained to the populace. I think it’s just the goings on of a police state, like they are constantly reminding the citizenry that they don’t have free reign, that the police are the ones with power and have the control here. It really seemed that way to me. Everywhere we went, we encountered barricades and had to replan. It was really annoying and one of the top reasons I wouldn’t want to live in this city. It was a constant onslaught of police activity and being told you can’t do certain things.
Senate building (maybe)
Garden in Kremlin
So, when we finally got to go to the Kremlin – it requires a whole afternoon – we were relieved, before we realized what it took to get in. First, you wait in the longest line for the ticket hall. Guess what, the main tickets are sold at separate windows from extras like the Diamond Fund (the crown jewels, which you want to see), so once you go through the entire line, you have to get in another line to get the extra bit tickets. This happens a lot. Luckily, I went to scope out the inside situation when we were still a good 45 minutes away from being inside the ticket hall (who knows how long from a cashier) and I noticed almost-empty ticket machines in the corner. We of course used those for the main tickets and we saved a good hour. Why was no one using the machines! Crayballs. And someone said you could buy Diamond Fund tickets at the actual building inside, so we hoped they were right. Like most big attractions so far in Russia, once you wait in the line to buy your tickets, you have to wait in another line to get in the attraction. This one was even worse than the ticket line, not because of length but because of tour groups pushing and shoving. It was another absolute shitshow. Russian queues make British people turn to dust. They just push and crowd and have no regard for anyone who may have been there first. So we forgot everything we learned in London and pushed right back. We made it to the severely backed up metal detectors and noticed that most of them were going unused as people just went through the central ones, causing most of the backup. Peeeeopleeeee.
CANNONBALLLLL
Luckily, once you’re in, it’s fine, as long as you stick to the specified walking paths – the guards mean BUSINESS. Anyone who stepped off the path or crossed streets not at a designated crossing had loud whistles blown at them until they got back on the straight and narrow. There were constant whistles.
now that’s a cracked bell
Kremlin just means fortress, not government building, but Moscow’s famous government fortress has made the word stand for it as well. It’s a huge expanse of land behind those walls, with various Senate buildings, Congress halls, monuments of tanks and cannons…and like 8 cathedrals. It’s different to have most of your government grounds be cathedrals! But that’s what we’re here to see! Endless cathedrals! They were the things you can really go inside (of course you can’t go in like the Senate) so hooray for them.
We also were indeed able to buy tickets inside the actual Diamond Fund. These were some crown jewels, man. So beautiful. Of course no pictures allowed here either, but I distinctly remember my favorite thing besides the super giant diamonds. They had this brooch that was a bunch of flowers, made of diamonds and gold and jewels, that was so pretty. But the audioguide told us what made it even better – it was hollowed out inside so it could be filled with water and fresh flowers could be placed inside! I was cracking up. Can you imagine Catherine the Great wearing a flower brooch pinned to her dress that actually had water and fresh flowers inside?! I like to imagine that she bent over to pick something up and the water spilled out and some court man slipped on it.
Because you’ll be spending a lot of time here, it’s important to bring snacks. They have a few carts of various Russian foods like pireshok, I think, and I was able to grab a trail mix bag. But you can find better snacks on the outside. And bring plenty of water! It was a hot day. Actually every day so far has had moments of heat interspersed between mostly freezing temperatures and then incredibly strong rain storms. What is this weather.
outside Kremlin
Even though I’m already museumed out, it’s literally like the #3 thing we will be doing this trip besides seeing cathedrals and taking trains so I geared up for the Tretyakov gallery. They have a main building and a new annex that I thought sounded like it would be small but it was literally the biggest single exhibit I’ve ever seen. It was 20th century Russian art, charting every new movement that happened, and it took 3 hours to go through. When we were finally done, it let us out to a stairwell that led us into…another exhibit. JFC I was about to scream. It was worse than Caesar’s Palace for keeping you in and not letting you leave! I was in a Bunuel movie and I was NOT AMUSED. It was a decent gallery but come on that’s a lot of museuming.
On our walk to the gallery ahhh
On the way to it though, we found this huge fake ship statue of Peter the Great. This memorial is kind of hilarious and awesome. It’s so big! Its champion was the former disgraced mayor of Moscow so there are rumors that it will be removed but come on, you can’t get rid of this. It’s so fun.
One of the funniest things we did in Moscow was go to the Museum of Soviet Arcade Games! It’s a very happening hipster joint with tons of old arcade games from Soviet times. They are so sad you want to cry but it’s really adorable. They gave us English instructions and a bag of tokens and we tried to play them. Most were super glitchy and frustrating but it was so cool to try them out!
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Moscow also has some gorgeous metro stations. We walked mostly everywhere but Husband made a point to find the most beautiful ones. Our Russian teacher told us about them when she went between semesters. They were pretty cool!
The best part of Moscow was the Bolshoi Ballet, which I’ll write about in another post (theatre reviews! never stopping!) and a mostly vegan restaurant called Fresh that I’m obsessed with (food in another post too). Looking back, we did do a lot of fun things in Moscow, but it was all in this overwhelming sense of unease. It’s a city in a time of change, for sure, and it’s unclear what direction would be best for it (you don’t want that fancy center part to take over and price all the citizens out, but you also want it to grow financially). I definitely felt this unease and it prevented me from enjoying Moscow as much as I thought I would. Maybe it was all the police and barricades, maybe it was the city itself, maybe the hostel, maybe because I was surrounded by people eating ice cream and I couldn’t have any and it was so sad. I think some places you gel with and some you don’t, and that’s fine. Onto the next!
Traveling Through Kyrgyzstan, Part 2: Ooh This is Me I’m Having Fun!
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.
