Over Memorial Day weekend Doug and I went to Lake Issyk Kul in neighboring Kyrgistan.

Lake Issyk Kul is the second largest saltwater lake in the world (second to the Caspian Sea), the second largest mountain lake (second to Lake Titicaca on the Peru/Bolivia border) and the tenth largest lake in the world. Lake Issyk Kul has a length of 182 kilometres (113 mi), a width of up to 60 kilometres (37 mi), and covers an area of 6,236 square kilometres (2,408 sq mi). (Thank you, Wikipedia.) The mountains you see in the background stretch as far as you can see and border Kazakhstan and China.

It was too cold to swim (for this Phoenician, at least) but there were people in the clear, blue water. I walked the beach barefoot and sat and stared at the lake and mountain. We went on a boat ride that gave us a good view of a nearby glacier.

We drove to a gorge to walk around and came upon some men and boys on horses. Two of them had eagles with them. They ran after our van on horseback, laughing and smiling, and kept up until we stopped. I'm sure it was a tourist trap, but it was one I gladly walked into: I got to hold an eagle for the first time.

At first, the eagle flew away from me. Thank God I'm a relatively calm person. FLAP-FLAP-FLAP  Doug got winged in the head. The owner put it back on my arm and it stayed. It was amazing being that near one of these birds. It is quite heavy as you would expect. After I held it for a while the owner raised my arm and turned my hand a little which was the eagle's signal to spread its wings.

The picture of me with the eagle and the following were taken in a gorge that was so scenic it reminded me of the cinematography in old westerns and the best pictures in hunting and fishing magazines. We walked along a road that ran alongside a gushing river. Mountain music. There was even a small falls.

We saw some petroglyphs that had been restored at a place called Cholpon-Ata (dating from the II millennium BC upto the Middle Ages upto the VI century AD - thank you, Advantour). It was kind of interesting, but they just didn't seem genuine to me. While, in America, things like that would be protected from people, these are just out in the open for all to handle. They were in a large boulder field. Anyone could have climbed all over them.

Those were the highlights of the trip. It's very different traveling in Central Asia than in America. Our liason for tours told us the drive from the airport to our hotel would be about three hours. It took five. It was a strange feeling sitting in a van in itch black not knowing where we were going or how long it would take to get there. The road conditions ranged from just fine to God Save Us. And these drivers knew these roads and drove fast. Our hotel and room were both very nice looking. The temperature in the room, however, was about 90 degrees. No exaggeration. The heat came from the floor which was so hot that Doug couldn't stand on it in bare feet. The bed was boxsprings with no mattress. Doug had bruises on his hips after the second night. Behind the reception desk were two pretty young women with nice smiles who were very good at apologizing for everything. On our first full day there, our travel guide didn't show up until around 4:00 so we lost almost an entire day of excursions. I tried to keep a good attitude which wasn't too hard since the lake was so beautiful. We sat there and read. Later, after lunch, I offered to tell stories to the ten children who were with us hoping that would diffuse the situation a little. It did. Just before I told stories, however, I needed a little something to calm down so I went to the store to buy chocolate. It was closed. It was supposed to be open. Grrr. Me. Chocolate. Barrier in between. GRRRR . . . I went to the cute smiley girls and told them that someone needed to open the store now and SELL ME CHOCOLATE! I waited another 15 (long) minutes, but they finally roused the storekeeper and she opened shop. On the second day the accountant didn't show up on time leaving us unable to exchange money before our excursion. I finally went to the desk and told the cute smiley girls that someone needed to find someone now to exchange our money. They finally did it from their own purses. The hotel advertised a gym which was unavailable to us. The food and food service at the hotel was very good. The food was disappointing in that it was not Kyrgiz food. We were actually served hotdogs and hamburgers for breakfast!

Overall, the trip was enjoyable and worthwhile. I'm trying to have few expectations in life. I think the Buddhists say that to live without expectations is to live without disappointment. Makes sense. I'm also careful to not travel around here and expect things to be like in America. However, when someone promises something then smiles and says "Well, in actuality . . ." or "Our website doesn't say that" (when it, indeed, does say that) or "That's unavailable right now (and the rest of the time you're here)" I'm upset. I'd rather have no expectations and be happy. I was not upset about the meals, just disappointed. I didn't complain. I did complain about the staff not showing up on time to help us. Any Buddhists or wanna-be Buddhists out there with suggestions for my attitude?

Bukhara

Doug and I flew to Bukhara, a city in central Uzbekistan with some friends from the Embassy a couple of weekends ago. This trip is my favorite trip so far. Samarkand is much more popular a city, but I liked Bukhara much more. We had a little more time to spend there - we stayed two nights - which helped. Bukhara is a mix of the old which has been restored and the old which stands in partial ruin. It's interesting to see the difference.

Bukhara is much cleaner than Tashkent. My housekeeper, Irina, noticed this when I was showing her pictures. She has never been there. The people were so friendly. We were often greeted by children and students. Doug and I both had a rock star moment. He was practically accosted (I was watching his backpack!) by a group of students who wanted their picture taken with him. The same thing happened to me, though a little rambunctiously. This picture is of a kindly old man offering candy to a little girl and her brother (off camera) who were traveling with us.

Shopping was much more comfortable here than in Samarkand or Khiva. The vendors were not in our face pushing things at us. They were helpful and patient. Many spoke some English. We were working with one young woman who switched from Uzbek to English to French while we were in her shop. Someone asked her how many languages she knew. She laughed and said she didn't know.

We had a dinner and entertainment on our first night. The weather was perfect as we sat outside and enjoyed front and center seats for traditional Uzbek music and a presentation of traditional dance mixed with a fashion show.

One of the highlights of the trip was a visit to a puppet workshop. They hand make puppets using paper mache, sticks and paint. They demonstrate the process while your there, give you a short showing of what the puppets can do then tell you to wander the store and play with any puppet you want. No pressure to buy! The adults had as much fun as the children. A friend of mine gave me a puppet from Bukhara which I wasn't sure what to think of at first. Now I have quite an appreciation for it.

Our hotel was nice. We had airconditioning! They even had cold Pepsi when we arrived which I managed to resist. The staff was friendly and cared that we enjoy Bukhara. It was within walking distance of many bazaars where we shopped. Across the street is the former walled in town center so, again, old meets new. Here are pictures of the courtyard in the hotel followed by the view across the street and the road leading to the bazaars:

Our next trip will be over Memorial weekend to Lake Issyk Kul in neighboring Kyrgistan.

Cruising the Mediterranean

For the first time Doug and I took seperate vacations this year. He went on a yoga retreat to Goa, India where he practiced yoga daily and ate a healthy vegetarian diet which he leaned really suits him. I went on a cruise with my good friend Julie and her mom where I ate (and drank) everything under the sun which suited me just fine, thank you.

We embarked from Rome, sailed to Cannes (France), Monaco, Livorno, (Italy), Sardinia (Italy), Amalfi (Italy), Sicily (Italy), Corfu (Greece), Dubrovnik (Croatia) and disembarked in Venice where we spent an extra couple of days.

It was a joy to be able to spend uninterrupted time with Julie in a completely relaxed atmosphere. I wish I could do that with all of you when we will be home on leave in the fall.

Julie and her mom went on a shore excursion almost every day. I went on five with them: Monaco, Pisa, Amalfi, Cavtat and lastly we went to the Islands of Murano and Burano near Venice.

Monaco was a very crowded city. The houses and other buildings are clustered together very tightly on the hills. Even the royal palace is located on an open public square with no private land around it that I could see. Julie and I went to the Grand Casino where I was to gamble. Specifically I was instructed (by Douglas) to play Black Jack. I chickened out. First of all, It cost $15 just to walk in the door and we only had about a half hour to spend there. Secondly, I saw my favorite casino machine when we walked in - video poker. Maybe next time at the next casino. I would not ever choose to go back to Monaco, however.

Seeing sights that I've only seen in photographs was amazing to me. Like the famous tower in Pisa. I took the obigatory photographs of it, but I also went up and took some detailed pictures like these:

We all stayed on the ship one day and Julie and I took a cooking class and learned to make pasta cabanara. Four words: yummy, yum-yum-yum.

The Amalfi coast is supposedly one of the most beautiful spots we sailed to. I say supposedly because, unfortunately, there were swells on the coast where we were to lay anchor and they didn't feel it was safe to take the tenders ashore. So we wound up docking elsewhere and driving through the slums of that area in rush hour traffic to get to what was supposed to be a food and wine tour which included a tour of a vineyard and a limoncello factory. After we were on the bus sitting in the traffic we were told that we would not be going to the vineyard. Apparently the roads and grounds were too wet to accomodate a large bus. I was quite upset as we were not given any choice before we boarded the bus. (There's a warning to those who are considering a cruise - which I highly reccommend - and are looking at various cruise lines. I do not reccommend Oceana for that reason. They refused any amount of refund to us.) Instead we went to an old villa that wasn't particularly interesting to me, but they did provide a good lunch. The limoncello factory did not disappoint. If you haven't tasted limoncello do so on a hot summer day. We also tasted apple flavored and melon flavored liqueurs. I bought a bottle of each.

Cavtat and the Walled City was an interesting tour on which I'm sure we were taught a lot.

Unfortunately for me, these tours are so brief and packed with sights and information from the guide that I walk away and remember little of what they said. I'm so caught up with being where I am - not a bad thing at all - that it's hard to pay attention to the sights, sounds and a mini lecture. We visited a Dominican and a Franciscan monestary which were architecurally beautiful. Here's a detail:

My favorite part of the entire cruise was the area including Vanice and the islands of Murano (famous for its glass making) and Burano (famous for its lace making). Um, apparently I didn't take any pictures of my favorite islands. (I'm not much of a picture taker.) I had one of those "If I won the lottery" moments. If I did win the lottery, I'd buy thousands of dollars of Murano glass and Burano lace starting with a set of highball glasses (about  $500 - 600 for six) and a coverlet (around $4,500.) The Murano glass was everywhere and I never got tired of looking at it. I've seen glass blowers before, but I saw an old man pull on molten glass and, in about one minute, turned a glowing blob into a rearing horse.

After disembarking we took a water taxi to out hotel. After quite a search to find anyone in the hotel we hauled our luggage up to our room. The hotel was right on the Grand Canal; our window overlooked a smaller canal. Within twenty minutes or so we heard a beautiful tenor voice and an accordian. We looked out the window and, passing beneath, there was a gondola with a man standing and singing, an accordian player seated near two lovers. Welcome to Venice!

Life as I know it now

Forgive me, my few faithful readers, for procrastinating writing a blog entry for over two months. Shamefully too long, I admit. I think it has also been too long since I've written about life here. One of the reasons I procrastinated in writing a new blog entry is that I couldn't think of anything 'good' to write. I must remember that, while I'm getting used to my life here - you are not. So many common occurances here are novel to you and I should be sharing them.

One thing that comes to mind today is the stories I overhear other Foreign Service Officers tell.

The nanny of one of our families is very amused that the father actually cares for the baby when the mother is gone. This is apparently unheard of in her world. One evening just before she left, he wanted to give the baby some milk, but there was none so he gave the baby water.  Aghast, she told him. "You don't give a baby water!"

Although I have shared how much I miss food in America, the food here is delicious. Usually. One of our Embasy employees was served pizza - very popular in Tashkent - with cheese and what looked like a can of corn poured over it. He asked them why they put corn on the pizza. "Because that's the way Americans eat pizza." The waiter then proceeded to argue the point with him.

I was recently at a restaurant that provided English translations on the menu which I always appreciate. The translations were hysterical. My salad was translated as something like "garden growths". There was a dish called "legs escaped from hen coup". Free range chicken? I wish I could remember more. As I do, I'll share.

One man, while stationed somewhere in Africa, was honored by his employees. They roasted a whole goat for him. He's a vegetarian. He smiled graciously, thanked them, then explained that he's a vegetarian. "Eez okay." They said. "Eez no meat. Eez goat." Here in Tashkent, chicken is chicken, while meat seems to be any meat that is not chicken.

 There was a Mexican restaurant in Tashkent that I went to with several Embassy employees. As we ate, one of them shared a story of the first time they ate at this restaurant. They were served tortillas. That's all, just tortillas. They sat and waited for something to go with the tortillas. Nothing. Finally they called the waiter over and asked. He said "These are tortllas (pronounced "tor-ti-LLaz" not "tor-ti-yaz") you eat them." "Yes," they agreed, "But we need some cheese, some meat, some vegetables . . ." "No. You just eat them." This went back and forth for a while. Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo and I'm happy to report that the fajitas we were served at the Marine House happy hour were quite tasty.

It's another world here. I've already gone on about driving in Tashkent, but I don't think I mentioned the general lack of safety measures here. Women regularly sweep the streets with these short brooms over which they have to stoop to use. Although there is a warning sign put in the lane where the women are sweeping, it is never any more than about five yards in front of them giving people lilttle notice to move. Somehow, they survive.

Manhole covers are regularly removed for whatever reason and left off while the workers to to lunch, the store to buy supplies, etc.

The pot holes here are more like sink holes and they sit unrepaired for months. Often someone, to be kind, will put a large tree branch they've broken off into the hole so it looks like there's a small tree in the middle of the road.

There is an amusement park that is being 'built' nearby. There are three or four rides partially set up. A small ferris wheel and a ride that circles around perpendicular to the ground are sitting unguarded and unblocked, open for anyone to climb on and play on.

Flying with Uzbeks is frustrating. They pay no mind to warnings to not use cel phones during take off and landing. As soon as the wheels are on the ground, many stand up and pull their stored bags off the overhead shelf and head to the front of the plane to be first in line. It's like being back in elementary school sometimes.

 The negative behaviors and practices I see do stick out in my mind since we must live with it and deal with it. However, I don't want to just sit here and tell you the negative things.

What do I see that I like? I think I've mentioned some of them before, but they are worth repeating. I love the way they greet each other. They talk over each other saying things like, "How are you? How is your family?" They talk over each other for a good 15 or 20 seconds. When they part company, they offer a sincere farewell. It's like they unspokenly recognize that they may never see each other again so they wish each other peace, health, etc. I admire that.

I love seeing men walking down the street together. Often they will have their arms slung casually over one another's shoulders. This is true of children as well as adults. It's a simple, loving gesture that, unfortunately, is looked upon by too many in America as gay behavior. Likewise, women will hold hands as they stroll. Again, not just mother and daughter or young girls; women hold hands as they walk and talk. I've had two adult friends with whom I've been comfortable holding hands. It's rare in America.

Now from the department of "It's not right or wrong; it's different" comes this little story. Doug and I drove to a bazaar to buy a few bread presses with which you make a pretty pattern in the center of a flat, round loaf of bread. I chose about five, negotiated the price and was looking for money when I saw the man reaching for a sack to put them in. "I don't want a sack" I said. (This entire exchange was, of course, in Russian.) "I'll put them in a sack." "No," I said as I gathered them in my hands, "I don't want a sack." "Yes, please." "No, thank you." This went on and on, back and forth. I explained that our car was right there and I pointed at it. I didn't need a sack. I didn't know how to say that the sack will just tear anyway. (They use the cheapest plastic sacks here in Tashkent. A cherry would tear it.) Finally Doug, getting tired of the scene, told me to just take the sack. No. I then said to the distraught man, "If you'll lower your price by 1,000 sum (that's about 40 cents), I'll take the sack." Done deal. I couldn't believe that he lowered his price and used up more goods (albeight, just a sack) rather than letting me have what I wanted for more money. Repeat after me: It's not right, it's not wrong; it's different.

Here's a preview of what my next blog will be about: