Dear journal,
A really shitty day as it's so hot and humid. Funny how I said that with my coming from Malaysia. But I do miss the friendliness and easygoing attitude of the Southeast Asians. You know when you hit a spot on the travel calendar when you know you just want to fret it out? I think today is that chosen hour. The local mosque gave out the azan cry to call for prayers. This was the closest I've come to a real Islamic observance of prayer time since arriving here. Otherwise it felt none the closer to what my mind had perceived from what I watched and read about on what an Islamic city would be. Quietly the muezzin's voice sounded like the exact one that I would hear from our home in Malaysia. I must be missing things I know a bit at this stage.
The owners of this building called a hostel are a couple blessed with two beautiful daughters of Japanese-Kyrgyz lineage. The husband, as with every consistent Japanese behaviour, is polite to a fault. Diligently working off his ass to keep the place as comfortable as an ongoing renovated place could be. The wife was a complete other story. Guilty of generalising, I have to say again, but not before my mind try to search for any sort of explanation such as a ridiculous hypothesis "could city Kyrgyz women be ruder than their non-urban counterpart?", for lacking of a better phrase, I don't know if it's the menopausal I don't know if it's the water they use to wash their hair, I don't know if it's a non-civil marital dispute, I don't know if it's the Russian juxtaposed facade but this particular woman (as opposed to a she-dog, you would forgive me dear journal as I need to let it out somewhere...) was a pain in the ass.
Hmmm... two ass references in one paragraph. This is indeed a shitty day.
The dorms were lovely. We have a pool that looked more like a water torture chamber of Lefortovo except that it's empty. The top of the building made albeit a dusty small ground for me to do some yoga while enjoying looking over Bishkek's skyline. The shop nearby even sell cheese and cucumber. Just the attitude of this woman who presumed way too much for my liking. I may not be the most politically / public relations trained person, I may be too direct for my own good but one thing about me is that I'll give you the benefit of the doubt first and go to length to help you irrespective of how long I've known you. But fluck that up on this one chance, you're stuffed.
And you never, ever, mess with my husband.
When we arrived, someone on the pack left the front door ajar. She presumed (opps no.1) that it's hubby who forgot to close it While interrogating him like a Gulag monster, hubby being the "no problemo" type just didn't want to masala things up especially when we were dying to check in for a cold shower. Her irritating voice can be heard lamenting and directing the Kremlin security standard on closing the front door. Nothing ticked me off faster than anyone accusing my dear hubby for something he didn't do. Even if he did it, it won't kill to explain in a nice firm manner - agree?
Forget about establishing any sort of mentally stimulating conversation or connection. Not even if I noted on her daughters and they were really beautiful girls. Her dead pan face just wanted to register our passport details. Okay, so far so good. Then I asked (by the way, she's currently mopping our dorm's floor with her dirty mop knocking on every backpack that has the misfortune of lying on the floor - yeah woman, take it out on the helpless, lifeless bag, you spineless coward!) if there is a Coke machine around. It's fine to give me a negative response, just don't make a drama out of it. She (oops no.2) went on to complain how we're "asking too much" while I was handing over the payment for our stay. What grass was she on?
Given today was one where we got a bit of headway on the Uzbek's visa application (so lazy the guys here, we've decided to get it done in Almaty) and planned our country side trekking adventures and dreamed about some cooking to do in the spartan kitchen here to while away the days, we thought of chilling off the arvo in the dorm. Our spirits were high despite the fact that some of our stomachs were a bit funked up from the sudden invasion of city food after enjoying some simple but hearty country fare. The floor was quite dirty and I asked in a friendly manner (my usual), not suspecting anything (in hindsight, it probably didn't matter if I had been non-friendly) if I could borrow a broom. She barked (oops no.3) back in a gorilla that had lost its nest manner "what for?" and a minor shock waved through my mind - wow, she is on some kind of grass! - and stupidly I smiled and said I liked to sweep the floor in the dorm. You know, "semangat gotong-royong", work together comrade? She hissed back that her husband was going to come and sweep the floor and I better not be criticising her work because (oops no.4) there were so many people checking in and she had to do so much work - from this point onward, I couldn't register the bullshit that was coming out of her mouth because my guns were out. Pumping one down her vile throat, the artery fizzed out shots of red across the bed sheets... okay, that was a moment of non-clarity but in reality, I stood there in my you've-just-lost-all-of-your-privileges voice and answered "I am not criticising you". My mind said "you stupid woman, you ain't seen nothing yet". Hubby jumped in to explain that I'm just trying to help out. She just kept throwing her attitude around on the "hard work" that she had to do. My tongue was just about to tell her that if she can't handle the heat, she shouldn't be in the business of running a hostel. Get the shit out because girlfriend, you don't have what it takes. Don't throw your complaints and take it out on me - this I did tell her. Then grabbing my yoga mat, I went up the stairs to chill out.
You know when life throw you lemons? You throw them back and demand for chocolate. You get yourself into a mess, you get yourself out.
Travels. Shows how much you don't know, and strangely, how much you got in you at times. Live to fight another day I guess. I know I'm not feeling 100% but I'm just glad to jab in down in a no-holds-bar journal. The fellow travellers are friendly although some should really wash their feet before jumping into bed *laugh*. I don't know but I think it's insane to expect myself to be on a high all the time. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
Thanks for checking out this page. I know I'm faffing more than usual but I feel a little easier now. Love and hugs from me, here in Bishkek.
ps: A big shoutout to those (family, friends, fellow travellers we've met) who were worried / tried to contact us during our out-of-internet-connection days when Osh was under siege. Yep, Uzbeks and Kyrgyzs were taking out the pipes at each other, some died, many injured. But these were goons. They knew what they were going into. Matters dating far back shouldn't be mixed into the present but any reason can be used to start up something that didn't make sense, in a sick way. But we've seen that there is still a good-to-know, hopeful existence of inter-ethnic clans helping out each other. We lived with them for days. We're fine and we love you all. A thought goes out to our adopted family. I hope those who made the journey to cross the Uzbek border made it back fine.
A really shitty day as it's so hot and humid. Funny how I said that with my coming from Malaysia. But I do miss the friendliness and easygoing attitude of the Southeast Asians. You know when you hit a spot on the travel calendar when you know you just want to fret it out? I think today is that chosen hour. The local mosque gave out the azan cry to call for prayers. This was the closest I've come to a real Islamic observance of prayer time since arriving here. Otherwise it felt none the closer to what my mind had perceived from what I watched and read about on what an Islamic city would be. Quietly the muezzin's voice sounded like the exact one that I would hear from our home in Malaysia. I must be missing things I know a bit at this stage.
The owners of this building called a hostel are a couple blessed with two beautiful daughters of Japanese-Kyrgyz lineage. The husband, as with every consistent Japanese behaviour, is polite to a fault. Diligently working off his ass to keep the place as comfortable as an ongoing renovated place could be. The wife was a complete other story. Guilty of generalising, I have to say again, but not before my mind try to search for any sort of explanation such as a ridiculous hypothesis "could city Kyrgyz women be ruder than their non-urban counterpart?", for lacking of a better phrase, I don't know if it's the menopausal I don't know if it's the water they use to wash their hair, I don't know if it's a non-civil marital dispute, I don't know if it's the Russian juxtaposed facade but this particular woman (as opposed to a she-dog, you would forgive me dear journal as I need to let it out somewhere...) was a pain in the ass.
Hmmm... two ass references in one paragraph. This is indeed a shitty day.
The dorms were lovely. We have a pool that looked more like a water torture chamber of Lefortovo except that it's empty. The top of the building made albeit a dusty small ground for me to do some yoga while enjoying looking over Bishkek's skyline. The shop nearby even sell cheese and cucumber. Just the attitude of this woman who presumed way too much for my liking. I may not be the most politically / public relations trained person, I may be too direct for my own good but one thing about me is that I'll give you the benefit of the doubt first and go to length to help you irrespective of how long I've known you. But fluck that up on this one chance, you're stuffed.
And you never, ever, mess with my husband.
When we arrived, someone on the pack left the front door ajar. She presumed (opps no.1) that it's hubby who forgot to close it While interrogating him like a Gulag monster, hubby being the "no problemo" type just didn't want to masala things up especially when we were dying to check in for a cold shower. Her irritating voice can be heard lamenting and directing the Kremlin security standard on closing the front door. Nothing ticked me off faster than anyone accusing my dear hubby for something he didn't do. Even if he did it, it won't kill to explain in a nice firm manner - agree?
Forget about establishing any sort of mentally stimulating conversation or connection. Not even if I noted on her daughters and they were really beautiful girls. Her dead pan face just wanted to register our passport details. Okay, so far so good. Then I asked (by the way, she's currently mopping our dorm's floor with her dirty mop knocking on every backpack that has the misfortune of lying on the floor - yeah woman, take it out on the helpless, lifeless bag, you spineless coward!) if there is a Coke machine around. It's fine to give me a negative response, just don't make a drama out of it. She (oops no.2) went on to complain how we're "asking too much" while I was handing over the payment for our stay. What grass was she on?
Given today was one where we got a bit of headway on the Uzbek's visa application (so lazy the guys here, we've decided to get it done in Almaty) and planned our country side trekking adventures and dreamed about some cooking to do in the spartan kitchen here to while away the days, we thought of chilling off the arvo in the dorm. Our spirits were high despite the fact that some of our stomachs were a bit funked up from the sudden invasion of city food after enjoying some simple but hearty country fare. The floor was quite dirty and I asked in a friendly manner (my usual), not suspecting anything (in hindsight, it probably didn't matter if I had been non-friendly) if I could borrow a broom. She barked (oops no.3) back in a gorilla that had lost its nest manner "what for?" and a minor shock waved through my mind - wow, she is on some kind of grass! - and stupidly I smiled and said I liked to sweep the floor in the dorm. You know, "semangat gotong-royong", work together comrade? She hissed back that her husband was going to come and sweep the floor and I better not be criticising her work because (oops no.4) there were so many people checking in and she had to do so much work - from this point onward, I couldn't register the bullshit that was coming out of her mouth because my guns were out. Pumping one down her vile throat, the artery fizzed out shots of red across the bed sheets... okay, that was a moment of non-clarity but in reality, I stood there in my you've-just-lost-all-of-your-privileges voice and answered "I am not criticising you". My mind said "you stupid woman, you ain't seen nothing yet". Hubby jumped in to explain that I'm just trying to help out. She just kept throwing her attitude around on the "hard work" that she had to do. My tongue was just about to tell her that if she can't handle the heat, she shouldn't be in the business of running a hostel. Get the shit out because girlfriend, you don't have what it takes. Don't throw your complaints and take it out on me - this I did tell her. Then grabbing my yoga mat, I went up the stairs to chill out.
You know when life throw you lemons? You throw them back and demand for chocolate. You get yourself into a mess, you get yourself out.
Travels. Shows how much you don't know, and strangely, how much you got in you at times. Live to fight another day I guess. I know I'm not feeling 100% but I'm just glad to jab in down in a no-holds-bar journal. The fellow travellers are friendly although some should really wash their feet before jumping into bed *laugh*. I don't know but I think it's insane to expect myself to be on a high all the time. Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow.
Thanks for checking out this page. I know I'm faffing more than usual but I feel a little easier now. Love and hugs from me, here in Bishkek.
ps: A big shoutout to those (family, friends, fellow travellers we've met) who were worried / tried to contact us during our out-of-internet-connection days when Osh was under siege. Yep, Uzbeks and Kyrgyzs were taking out the pipes at each other, some died, many injured. But these were goons. They knew what they were going into. Matters dating far back shouldn't be mixed into the present but any reason can be used to start up something that didn't make sense, in a sick way. But we've seen that there is still a good-to-know, hopeful existence of inter-ethnic clans helping out each other. We lived with them for days. We're fine and we love you all. A thought goes out to our adopted family. I hope those who made the journey to cross the Uzbek border made it back fine.
