Today I did something that I ought to be doing more, since it is one of the great things about living in Singapore. I went to Little India and had a good explore around the area. I've been there a couple of times before, but it seems there are plenty of reasons to go back! I had forgotten that it is leading up to Deepavali right now, so a perfect time to visit Little India. For those of you who aren't versed in indian festivals, Deepavali is the "festival of lights" and one of the biggest celebrations of the year. During Deepavali, people light earthen 'diyas' (lamps), decorate their houses, set off firecrackers, and have huge feasts with friends and family. The lighting of lamps is apparently a way of paying obeisance to god for attainment of health, wealth, knowledge, peace, valor and fame. I think Deepavali is November 1 this year? I better check and make sure. It will be really fun to go back to Little India for the celebrations. Anyway, leading up to the holiday, the streets of Little India are packed with people buying decorations for their homes and beautiful sarees for the celebrations. They have set up a special holiday bazaar on one street to sell holiday treats, jewellery, and decorations. I ended up buying some fabric that was on sale, so now I better come up with some ideas of what I want to make out of it.

Well, I am off to Burma tomorrow. I'll write again in about a week about my Burma adventures, and include some pictures as well. We will be going to Bagan, which I have high expectations will be one of the most fascinating places I will ever visit!

In the interest of health and deliciousness, I have taken to eating yong tau foo pretty much everyday, and sometimes twice a day (like today). Part of the reason for this is that there aren't actually that many other alternatives for things to eat at school that haven't been drowned in vats of oil. Yong tau foo is so great though- it's like a huge banquet of make-your-own soup or noodles. You go through a line where you put all the things you want in your soup (different vegetables, tofu, meat) and then request for it to be made specifically how you like it- type of noodles, with or without broth, etc. I always get some grass-like green veg, tomatoes, seaweed, and tofu. And maybe some eggplant or carrots, but no noodles, and just broth. And then you add this sweet sauce and a little chili, and mmmm, the perfect lunch. The other thing I love to have here at school is fresh-squeezed juice. Watermelon or mango are my current favorites.

The school cafeteria is quite interesting here. I kind of like the set-up, though if only there was less oil.... Basically, they rent out space for food stalls run by locals. So all over campus there are little food venues set up just like the hawker stalls that you can find throughout Singapore. Because of the multiple ethnicities here, they always have different stalls for Chinese, Indian, Muslim, and Western food, with a lot of other variations.

After that frustrating week I desperately needed a break and to get away from Singapore for a bit. Luckily, I was able to make plans to meet up with my friend Miah on Tioman Island for a couple of days. Tioman is a Malaysian island that is off the Southeast Coast, and relatively near Singapore. In fact, there are flights directly to Tioman from Singapore and there used to be ferry, though unfortunately they shut down that service last year. So instead I hopped on a bus at 6:40 am for the 4 hour drive to Tanjong Gemok in Malaysia to catch the ferry for the 1.5 hour boat ride. Arriving at 2:00pm, I found that the people fromthe hotel were not there to meet me at the jetty as they promised, so after waiting around for a bit I caught a water taxi out to the Panuba Inn and immediately found Miah loitering on the beach waiting for me. Tioman is the only island in Southeast Asia that I have visited outside of Thailand, and it was quite different. Less developed and a bit more ramshackle, but with lots of charm that only secluded beaches can give...

Here are some pictures from my balcony:




I love waking up to those kinds of views!! Made me wish I had more time to spend out there letting the stress just melt away... All we did was hang out on the beach, swim a bit, and take a short walk through the jungle to the neighboring beach. We were accompanied in our walks and lounging times by lots of monkeys and giant monitor lizards (I would guess around 4 feet long- these are the biggest lizards I have ever seen!)




The monkey pics are kind of fuzzy for some reason... oh well.

Here's an example of the kind of "roughing it" lifestyle I lead. No posh resorts for me!



Just kidding actually. I don't stoop quite so low these days. Not saying I wouldn't have in the past, but I am somehow feeling too old for all that now. I really do think those toilets may still be used by the odd person though, which is a rather scary thought! Probably at night in the company of giant lizards and cockroaches...

Well, all in all it was a lovely mini break. Of course, can't beat hanging out on beautiful beaches in the company of good friends!

I should probably clarify that even while I am complaining about some of the annoyances of life here in Singapore, it has not escalated to the level that I am unhappy that I made the decision to come here. No, at least for now, I am still happy to be in Singapore for the year. Singapore is still a good place, just frustrating of late! In fact, what I have decided about Singapore is that it would be a great place to live if you had money- because that's when you can afford all the wonderful things that Singapore has to offer- shopping, restaurants, shows, etc. It is definitely a center of culture in Southeast Asia, and a great mix of East and West, thus presenting access to "whatever" a foreigner should want here, right??? Well, such is the case if you are in the class of people who can afford it. Student life, on the other hand, is far below what it should be for a developed country like this. The facilities are totally run-down and inconvenient (I recently found out that there are no fire alarms and the building has electrical problems). In fact, I was reflecting back on all the places I've lived overseas, including in much less developed countries like Morocco, Uganda, and Kyrgyzstan, and the truth is that where I am right now is the worst accommodations I have had. Hence the reason I am fed up with it. So, maybe I will see some progress as I went to see the Dean of the Law School and he said he will see what he can do to help me. In this country you definitely have to go up up up to the very top person if you want to see anything accomplished. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that change will come soon, though it is far from a sure thing, and who knows how long it will take?

I went to the embassy of Myanmar to get my visa yesterday (I am going to visit Natalya there in a couple of weeks). Even though I am generally appalled by the actions of the government of that country, I do have to admit that their embassy was one of the most efficient and best I have visited. I submitted my application for a visa at 10:30 in the morning, and they had it ready for me by 3:00 in the afternoon. Wow, that never happens.

So because I was already downtown far away from school, I ended up having a non-study day on Orchard Road. My friend Heather met up with me in the evening and we went to see a movie. Oh, remember how I wrote earlier about those government signs to discourage things like jay-walking??? Well, at the beginning of the movie when they have all those commercials now, there was a government-sponsored commercial that used the same THINK AGAIN slogan campaign. it was so graphic though! It showed a boy running across the street where there wasn't a crosswalk and then getting SLAMMED into by a car. His family comes out and stands around his crushed and bloody body (which they showed in great detail) on the street crying. Can you believe they showed that at the movie theatre and that this ad was sponsored by the government?!

I have a Singaporean stalker boy. He is this 19 yr old law school pip-squeak who I met in the hallway at school for like 5 min, and now he calls me and text messages me ALL THE TIME. He has no social sense whatsoever, and I have tried to put him off multiple times, though it doesn't seem to register with him. Maybe today, though, finally, I might have gotten through to him. He called me and I actually answered the phone (don't usually answer, just ignore), and I was like "why are you calling me?" and he said, "don't you like to hear from your friends?" I replied, "Are we friends? We talked for 5 minutes in the hallway once, 2 months ago. I'm really busy, so I'm sorry, but I can't meet with you. Goodbye." So hopefully he got the message this time. When I met him, he came up to me and said, "Hi, my name is Dylan like the guy in 90210." Uh, ok.... So I was friendly and answered his barrage of questions about me, but never expected him to go into stalker mode. One of my other girlfriends here told me that you have to be careful cuz the guys here do that. It's bizarre.

The day has degenerated in a way that I am feeling kind of disgruntled and frustrated with my life out here at the moment. I think I'm going to visit Residence Life to find out if I can move on campus, because that would at least solve some of the basic frustration that has to do with the inconvenience of my living situation. I spend approximately 12 hours a day in the library because I feel that I can't get any work done at my apartment due to the discomfort of being there and lack of internet access. I could come to school for just part of the day, but once I am here I feel that I have to stay at least until it gets dark so that I can go for a jog on the track on my way home. Otherwise I wouldn't get any exercise because it is too hot to exercise outside during the day, and the gym here is really quite disgusting so I can't go there (it smells horrible, nothing is clean, everything is really old, and there is not enough equipment for everyone to use). If I have other errands to run during the day that do not involve school, the day is basically shot for getting anything done because it takes too much time taking buses and the metro around to go downtown AND to school. As it is, I spend about 1.5 hours a day waiting for the bus and commuting to and from my apartment to school.... ok, so you can see I am frustrated at the moment! The other thing is that I don't even really know if they will consider letting me move on campus because they are sooooo inflexible about rules here. They might just say, "Sorry, graduate students can only live at Gillman Heights, and not the on-campus residences" and not even consider my pleas for an exception. Well, I will try. Don't know if I can come to school tomorrow though because I need to go get my visa for Burma. Another day wasted with useless activities....

I'm sure by now you have all heard about the bombing in Bali on Saturday- 26 people killed, including locals and tourists from Australia, the US, Japan, and South Korea. They are attributing the bombings to the regional terrorist group the Jemaah Islamiyah, who were responsible for the last attack. This bombing occured in much the same area as the last one, near the resort town of Kuta. It is so sad that this had to happen, especially at a time when tourists were starting to go back to Bali and feel "safe" once again. This has to be a hard blow for the locals, who earn their livings from tourism. Most of the local people in that region are Hindu, not Muslim, which is apparently another reason the Muslim extremists find it an easy target. I wonder how the Indonesian government is going to respond this time? They have to do something substantial to crack down on terrorism in the region....

So, as you know, this is the very topic I am writing my thesis on. The recent attacks highlight how important this issue is.

Testing out my new camera in "self-portrait mode"


Admittedly, I didn't do anything interesting yesterday that could include taking other pictures, so you will just have to settle for my grin :-)



I have my last laser sailing lesson this Saturday, Mexican cooking on Sunday, and possibly an outing to the beach with some of my friends from my constitutional law class. I also have to head over to the Myanmar embassy sometime soon to get my visa. maybe tomorrow....

My roommates and I have decided to institute a weekly "family meal" together. We will take turns cooking for each other and introducing each to our different cuisines from home. We've grouped off so that every other week the Chinese girls (Tang, Gu, and Bi) will cook, alternating with the Americans (Ashley and myself). Yesterday was our first Chinese meal, and it was fabulous! The girls made fried rice, fish, prawns, and a couple of different vegetable dishes. It was so nice to have a home-cooked Chinese meal because most of what you get at the hawker stalls here are either versions of a stir fry drenched in oil or noodle bowls. So next week it is Ashley's and my turn, and I think we're going to make Mexican because none of the girls have ever tried it. We are limited in our cooking abilities because we don't have an oven, and only a double burner, but I think we can manage to make quesadillas, or something like that. I do miss cooking a lot, so I am really looking forward to these weekly cook-a-thons.

I'm playing for the law faculty's volleyball team today in an inter-faculty tournament. I was quite looking forward to the day, but it turns out that none of the other girls on my team know how to play, which leads to a boring game. Grrrr. A lot of the girls on the other teams are quite good and it would be really fun to play with them. But as it is, my team gets slaughtered- basically, we can't even make a single play and I am also the only one that can serve the ball over the net.

So I kind of feel like this is a total waste of my day, but can't bail now unfortunately. At least I brought my computer so I can try to get some work done between matches. 4 more hours of this to go....

Fabulous! I have figured out how to add images to this blog, which means that I can now also share photos of my travels with you. These are two pictures that my friend T.T. took of Koh Tao, Thailand when we were there earlier this month. I'm getting a digital camera soon as well, so I will have more to share in the future....

I've decided that the best way to ensure that I get my thesis done by the end of the year is to stay here in the library until close every night (closes at 10pm, so it's really not that late). The only problem with this plan is that it's like an ice box in this library and I feel like I should have lugged my winter gear out here to put up with such extreme climes! Instead, I am wrapped in my too-thin pashmina scarf feeling my nose go numb. Oh well. One must suffer. ;-)

So, holing away in the library probably won't give rise to the most scintillating blog entries, but you never know... besides, I've got a few trips planned for the coming month. Can't spend every second working! And let's not forget about sailing- tomorrow is lesson 2.

I had my first sailing class ever yesterday. The university here has a sailing club, and I signed up for a class that they were offering with the Sea Sports Club out on the East Coast of the island. It is a 3-day course on laser sailboats- small one person racing boats. My next classes are Thurs and Sat next week. Anyway, I loved it! On our first day we were only out on the water for a little over an hour because we had to spend a lot of time going over theory, tying knots, how to rig up the boat, etc. I capsized within about 3 minutes of being out to sea, because of extreme confusion over what the heck I was doing, but then managed to keep the boat upright and moving back and forth for the next hour. Capsizing was a bit of an event, because you then have to single-handedly get the boat upright and haul yourself back into the boat (need to lose weight and build upper body strength to make that part a bit easier), but I am glad I did capsize because it made me realize that falling in really is not a big deal at all. Can't wait for Thursday and more sailing!

Oh, and the East Coast is really lovely. The Sea Sports Club is out at a place called Pasir Ris, which is much more residential. There are parks, trails, beaches. You can even see Pulau Ubin (another small island) from the beach where we launched. And in fact, the park at the Sea Sports Club has the coolest playground ever! If I was a kid, that place would be my heaven. Who am I kidding? I don't have to be a kid to enjoy it!

Today is the last day of the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival. I went to Chinatown yesterday to see if there were any special celebrations happening, but alas, there didn't seem to be much besides copious amounts of mooncakes for sale. Apparently, the moon festival is no longer that big of a holiday- not even comparable to Chinese New Year. My Chinese roommate, Tang, said that the Moon Festival has even been surpassed by Christmas in China!

I've tried a few bites of mooncake though, in honor of the holiday. That's an interesting story.... apparently mooncakes became famous because during the time when the Chinese were under threat from the Mongols they used the mooncake to smuggle messages to organize a rebellion to overthrow the Mongols. The mooncakes are a very rich cake made from lotus paste and other sweet fillings, and the Mongols didn't like them, so they knew the Mongols would never find the messages hidden inside. The rebellion was organized for the 15th day of the 8th moon, was ultimately successful, and led to what today is the Mid-Autumn Moon Festival.

While on the topic of food, I did decide to try a local food while I was in Chinatown yesterday- peanut soup. Basically, it tasted like sugar water with peanuts in it, so I wasn't really that keen on it. Though it did have really yummy rice dumplings with a peanut butter-like filling inside.

You can also get toasted sandwiches out of vending machines here. It kind of scares me, so I haven't tried it....

I don't often think of Asian countries as being as overtly patriarchal as, for example, the Middle East or Latin America, but gender discrimination certainly still exists out here. I just found out about two existing policies in Singapore that illustrate this point. First, health coverage in Singapore does not extend to the dependants of female civil servants, only of male civil servants (comes from the idea that the male should be the main provider for the household). Second, the medical school here has a quota system where only 1/3 of the class can be female. Apparently, this discriminatory practice is accepted because of the heavy government subsidies expended on medical education and the "belief that female doctors are more likely to quit active medical practices when they get married and become mothers, thus wasting national resources." To me, this is an illustration of why Singapore is still hovering on the edges of the developed world, but hasn't made full entrance into it. There needs to be some basic recognition of equality between the genders, and at the very least an attempt to purge discrimination from government programs.

While I do enjoy living in Singapore, I also have a few gripes. And this blog wouldn't be completely honest if I didn't include the negative, would it? First, the one thing that has REALLY annoyed me these last couple of days is the way Singaporeans communicate- they will not answer simple questions! I know this is cultural and North Americans are actually probably quite unique in their directness, but having been conditioned into the North American way of relating to the world, I can't help getting a little annoyed sometimes.... So, examples: (1) I wanted to order a pizza. I called the pizza place and asked what their special included (they advertise 2 for 1)- was it a 1 topping pizza or a 2 topping pizza, etc? The woman WOULD NOT answer my simple question. No, I had to give her my address and actually order it. But how could I order the pizza if I didn't know what I was ordering??? (2) One of the local gyms was advertising a 6-week trial membership for $20. Wow, that sounds like a great deal, right?? So I called up the gym to find out how long the promotion was lasting, and what the normal membership fees were. Would they answer my questions? Of course not. I had to make an appointment to go in to the gym and meet one of the managers for a tour and to discuss membership options. So I did this. All I wanted to know about was the trial membership. Would they tell me anything about it? Of course not (I am beginning to wonder if it even exists). They kept trying to push a full membership on me and a 12-month contract, and even gave me a special student "deal" ("only for you"- yeah right). And I had to sign up TODAY or the offer would go away. I admit that when we finally got down to a the student deal, it was an ok price, but of course I hadn't come prepared to pay an enrollment fee and 3 months deposit. Couldn't even pay it today if I wanted to. After over an hour of meeting with the guy for a simple gym membership, it all came to nothing. See why I am annoyed? And I am a very patient and tolerant person! You should have seen my friend Heather who was with me (and admittedly still has "the rage" against Singapore- even after living here for 6 months)- she was seething!!

Pretty much everyday there are little things like this that happen here in Singapore. In general, none of this bothers me, because I have actually experienced far worse inconveniences in other places in the world. It's all part of what you have to expect about living overseas. If you come with an expectation that things will be the same as at home, you are bound to be disappointed and to not enjoy your time overseas. Expect to have to adjust to a totally different way of living, and you can chalk it all up to a "different" but simulataneously exciting and enriching experience! So yes, I am a bit annoyed, but it's a small inconvenience when considered on the whole.

All the same, I think I will make a list of things I "like" and "don't like quite so much" about life out here (in order to give you all the real picture of life in Singapore):

I LIKE
- The diversity of neighborhoods and places to hang out in Singapore- it will take me the whole year to explore this entire island.
- The multiracial society.
- How CLEAN everything is (huge fines for littering and such is a small sacrifice to keep a city this wonderfully clean).
- Singapore's location- it's a great base for exploring the rest of Asia.
- All the subsidized activities, food, computers, etc. for students out here.
- The excellent public transportation system.
- That taxis are so affordable.

I DON'T LIKE
- How long it takes to get everywhere on public transportation (waiting and more waiting) and that I couldn't have a car or motorbike if I wanted to because of all the fees and never-ending procedures to go through.
- That it also takes forever to hail a taxi in this city- waiting an hour on the street is not unheard of.
- People walk soooo slow here, never move to let you pass, and will often smash into you on the sidewalk and not apologise.
- The only real form of local entertainment seems to be shopping.
- Living costs are quite high (except food at school), and the apartments really are not very nice for what you pay.
- That the rulemaking goes a little far here... leading to a complete lack of flexibility in all areas of life.

Singapore has some fantastic storms. Booming thunder, lightning, torrential downpours...the whole works. Love it (especially for the cooling effect). Right now I am waiting out such a storm. Normally they pass within an hour or so. I don't want to attempt to walk to the bus while the rain is still coming down, so instead I am hanging out in one of covered outdoor walkways between buildings and getting caught up on internet and such. The buildings here are architecturally designed to be as "open air" as possible. Thank God, because it actually gets soooo cold in the classrooms where the AC is pumping that I would rather put up with a little heat than freeze to death.

I am very impressed with my fellow students and professors (the two that I have) here at the National University of Singapore. Studying here really impresses upon me the narrow-minded approach that Americans have to the world. Yes, law school in the U.S. is probably the most challenging in the world, and no doubt prepares students more to be lawyers than schools out here (I still can't believe law degrees are an undergraduate degree in most of the world?!), but still our education is very limited to what matters in AMERICA, and no where else. We just don't look outside. Here in Singapore everyone knows about the legal systems in, at the very least, the US, UK, Australia, New Zealand, France, Germany, India, China, and maybe even places like Sri Lanka and South Africa. It's amazing. They can tell you how the political systems are structured, how judges are selected for the highest court of the land, how international law is incorporated into the domestic laws... sometimes I feel rather small when I realize that my Singaporean professor may actually know more about the American legal system than I do.

Singapore is a very interesting country in which to study the law because Singapore intentionally look to other countries for guidance in its own courts. For example, Singapore's tax law is taken almost totally from South African tax law. Singaporeans look around the world to see who is doing things right, and then borrow and make it their own. Of course, Singapore has only been a country since 1965 and is still very much in the early years of developing its judicial system. But it's good to be in a country where people realize that they can learn something from the experiences of others....

So I promised I would actually write something about my trip to Thailand, rather than just babbling on about technology and backpackers.... I spent one day in Bangkok, basically doing nothing, with the exception of going to one of my all-time favorite restaurants for dinner: Cabbages and Condoms. I love this restaurant! Now, you may be wondering about the name...it does have a purpose. The restaurant is run by the Population and Community Development Association, one of Thailand's biggest charitable organization, in an effort to raise public awareness about AIDS. The name "cabbages and condoms" came from the idea that condoms should become as common and "everyday" in Thailand as is cabbage (a staple of the Thai diet). So, the restaurant serves great food, including vegetables that come from rural development projects, and simultaneously raises money for an important mission. It ultimately makes one's meal that much better knowing that your money is going back into the community. That, and they even give out free condoms in place of mints at the end of your meal.

The main purpose of the trip to Thailand was to accompany my friend Heather back to Koh Tao, where she had been taking a diving course and needed to pick up some gear that she left behind the last time she visited the island. I had never been to Koh Tao before, but had spent an idyllic few days on neighboring Koh Pha Ngan in August 2001. Koh Pha Ngan is famous for it's full moon rave parties, but as you probably all know, I'm not much of a raver, so I actually spent my time there on the other side of the island enjoying a peaceful, tropical paradise. Koh Tao is similarly situated, with beautiful stretches of beach and lush green hills. Koh Tao, however, is eerily reminiscent of "The Beach" in that a small community of westerners have found their way to the island, and apparently never plan to leave.... It's "the" place to dive in Thailand, so divers come from all over the world to either teach or take the dive masters training programs. They pretty much spend their days diving and basking in the sun, and their nights drinking and using drugs. It's a bizarre alternative universe that draws a certain type of person in, creating a microcosm of Western culture in the midst of a Thai paradise. The locals and tourists flit around in the fringes of this culture, and if they're like me, try to actually avoid the Western influence and find the Thai culture that still exists if one looks for it....

So, the trip to Koh Tao was very enjoyable because I mostly just lazed about on the beach and ate good Thai food. I was there with Heather and two other girls whom we pick up along the way- T.T. from New York and Flavia from Brazil. They were both lovely girls and I really enjoyed talking to them. Also, there was a fantastic tropical storm our second night at the beach, and I LOVE these types of storms. Sitting on my balcony staring out at the sheets of water pouring off the tin roof and the rain pounding beyond was a most enjoyable way to pass the evening.

Went back to Thailand this last weekend for the first time since 2001. It was great to be back! Although the rushed weekend trip to Bangkok and Koh Tao did not fully satisfy my need to experience Thailand all over again. And it was a bit strange to be back as a tourist, rather than living there. It also made me feel rather old, to see how many changes had happened in just a few short years. The biggest change that I noticed was a change in the backpacker culture. Of course, there are still the age-old grungy backpackers out there who go to Thailand for no other reason than to wallow in their own filth and lose their minds to drugs. But there also seems to be a "new age" of backpackers who no longer retreat from the rest of the world as they backpack across unexplored lands, but is a city-hopper who travels on the high-tech road complete with laptop computer and mobile phone. Hostels are now providing wireless for these savvy travellers- no more tramping through unfamiliar streets to hunt down an internet cafe or waiting in frustration as the one computer in the shop keeps booting you off in the middle of emails. It's all about 24 hour contact with friends and relatives, photos taken with digital cameras sent immediately over the internet, and free internet calling and constant instant messaging. Some of these technological advances are a bit disconcerting for those of us who appreciated the simplicity of life on the ride, but at the same time the indisputable convenience of travelling as such is a seductive possibility. I am about to succumb to some of these developments myself, planning to venture into the world of skype and to buy my first digital camera soon. I don't think I will go so far as to bring my laptop with me on trips (the paranoia of losing it or having it stolen on the road is too great), but I do appreciate the pervasive presence of technology and how easy it has made it for me to stay in touch with family and friends back at home.

The Singaporean government tries to keep everyone in line by instituting strict laws and penalties- of course, Singapore is infamous for this and most foreigners know that you can't chew gum, do any drugs (automatic death penalty), jaywalk, etc. The aspect of this "rule of law culture" that I most get a kick out of are the government banners everywhere on the street showing a person breaking the law, with the slogan "Think you can do such-and-such? THINK AGAIN." Ha ha, I love those. I've seen those banners for jaywalking and weaving in and out of traffic. One of my friends told me she saw a similar banner showing a person trying to squat on a western-style toilet (Singapore has both western-style toilets and more traditional squat toilets, and I guess some people don't understand the concept of a sit-down toilet and try to climb up on the toilet and squat, thus, as you can guess, causing a huge mess).

I had a very eventful weekend. Signed up for a tour of China Town sponsored by the university on Saturday. The best part of the day was a visit to the Chinese Heritage Center. The center is a cleverly-designed museum that showcases life in China Town at the turn of the century. Half of the museum is a replica of the living quarters of the residents of China Town at that time- one can walk through and looking into cell-like rooms, kitchens, and workshops in order to understand what living conditions were like back then (extremely cramped and poor). In fact, I think it is one of the best cultural museums I've been to because of this aspect- aside from pictures, films, etc. it gave a real picture of what life was like for the Chinese immigrants.

Saturday evening I went to a beach party sponsored by the Graduate Students Society. The party was held on Sentosa Island- a small island directly to the south of the city. Sentosa is mostly a resort and man-made beaches, although it was still lovely, and good to know that there is a beach nearby where I can escape the urban jungle. Though I am hoping that Pulau Ubin (another nearby island) offers a more genuine (or perhaps I should say less resort-like) beach experience.

The party was definitely fun, although kind of like reverting to college madness. lots of European exchange students making themselves sick from the free flow of alcohol.

I'm beginning to explore more of Singapore. I have now been to China Town, Boat Quay, and Orchard Road, as well as Little India, Kampung Glam, Raffles, Clarke Quay, and the Harbour Front. Orchard Road is the shopping mecca of Singapore. Huge shopping malls and department stores line the street, selling everything from designer shoes to knock-off watches and tourist t-shirts. There are a few good reasons to visit Orchard Road, primarily big book stores and movie theatres. Boat Quay is one of the more picturesque areas on the waterfront- it is across from the Asian Civilizations museum and is basically a row of restaurants with patio dining on the waterfront. China Town is just what you would imagine- a mini China squeezed into an 8 - 10 block radius. I loved it. There are cheap merchandise stalls, shops selling beautiful antiques, and a whole street of hawker stalls selling Chinese food. I want to go back at night because it looks like they block off the street and light paper lanterns all around.

An observation about Singapore: Singaporeans are super good at marketing. Everywhere you go there are advertisements and many are quite high-tech and catchy. In the underpasses on Orchard Road the walls are lined with billboards that change in perfect synchronization. The clubs at school must have so much money because their event posters are huge and poster-like with color pictures and advertising catch-phrases.

Melaka, Malaysia is small, artsy town in the southwest of Malaysia. A 4.5 hour bus ride from Singapore (a small chunk of which is spent at immigration), Melaka is an easy weekend trip. I went to Melaka to meet up with my good friend Chizuru, who was passing through Malaysia on her way to India. Chizuru and I somehow both managed to arrive at the Traveller's Lodge in Melaka within half an hour of each other, quite a feat seeing as we both were a bit delayed getting there, and I spent about an extra hour walking around the town just trying to find the hostel. First, for anyone going to Melaka, Chizuru and I definitely recommend staying at the Traveller's Lodge. It's inexpensive, very clean, friendly, and in a good location. Chiz and I actually spent a good deal of time just lounging in our air conditioned room and getting caught up on each other's lives (while enjoying some decadent wine and chocolate). Aside from long chats between friends, we spent most of our time wandering around Melaka's China Town, popping in and out of clothing and crafts shops and art galleries. We both loved the local artists in Melaka, falling particularly hard for the paintings by an artist named Titi, who was as friendly as he was talented. I have to confess that we didn't do much besides talk, shop, and eat. We made a point of sampling some of the local baba nyonya delicacies at Cafe 1511, and went to a really fabulous make-your-own-satay restaurant called Capitol Satay.

The American influence is omnipresent in Singapore. Televisions on the public buses screen American shows and advertise American movies ("Must Love Dogs" is getting a lot of promotion out here). American brands are everywhere-- I can probably find almost any store out here that I could find in the States. For that matter, the Scandinavians also seem to be doing well, as many people have Nokia phones and I live right next to an IKEA (in fact, my first ever visit to IKEA was here in Singapore). One of the cool things about Singapore is that it is such an interesting mix of cultures. Not only is the Western influence unavoidable, but, of course, Asia has made its mark here as well. Today, when I was talking with my research advisor about the different ethnic areas of town-- Little India, Kampung Glam (Malaysian), Arab Street, China Town-- he made the comment that Singapore is actually "one big China Town." In many ways this is true, as the Chinese make-up by far the largest proportion of Singaporean people and the Chinese way of doing things is reflected in government and business. Singapore has differentiated itself from China, however, in promoting its multiracial society. I am still trying to grasp how exactly this all works, as it seems clear to me that many people associate with those from their respective ethnic and language groups (walking down the street you may pass different small groups of people speaking in Mandarin, Hindi, Malay, and other dialects), but at the same time nearly everyone in Singapore speaks English and groups communicate with each other through English. Also, I believe the government has an official policy of trying to make the different groups mingle- for example, in their housing scheme there are quotas (or something of that sort) that say, for example, "so many Malays must live in this neighborhood, or building, so that the neighborhood remains multi-racial." It's all very structured. Probably the most structured/regulated place I have ever been. I have yet to decide if I think the regulations are too invasive, or rather, easy to live with.

Singapore turned 40 on August 9th, and in recognition of this occasion, the city hosted a whole week of celebration. I attended the celebration at Marina Bay on Sunday evening with a group of foreign students from China, Japan, and Hong Kong who all live in the same building as myself. After making many transfers between trains and buses, we found our way to the celebration site, and decided to start the evening with a traditional "steamboat" dinner. Steamboat reminded me of Japanese suki yaki because it was a pot filled with boiling broth placed in the center of the table-- everyone then went to a buffet of raw meats and vegatables and filled heaping plates to bring back to cook in the broth. This particular steamboat had the added element of a grill surrounding the pot where each diner could choose to grill meats and vegetables instead of boiling them. It was a kind of make-your-own dinner event (which I love). Most of us foreign students were amateurs at steamboat, and managed to burn many of our meats on the grill, before we realized that we were supposed to put some oil on the grill to prevent burning. Alas, we ended up making such delicacies as "cucumbers a la charcoal." The meal ended with a free ice cream bar-- flavors to choosed from: red bean or corn. I really have a hard time getting used to beans and corn as the dessert flavor of preference in this region of the world.

After dinner, we made our way out to the concert grounds, where Singapore played host to a number of famous singers from China, Hong Kong, and Taiwan. We watched a sort of "Asian Spice Girls" performance before the stage fell silent for the fireworks show. And what a show! These fireworks far out-performed any I had ever seen. In the U.S. we tend to think that the most magnificent fireworks involve the biggest explosions, but here the fireworks became a form of art, like a dance. Each night during the celebration Singapore hosted a different fireworks "choreographer" from around the world. The man who put on our show was from France, and the entire show was beautifully choreographed to music and sound-effects blasted through speakers. It was so beautiful that there were none of the "oohs" and "ahs" of a usual fireworks display, but instead a deep silence of appreciation.

The blog is officially up and running once again as I set off on a new set of adventures abroad.... It all starts today, my first day in Singapore. I don't have a lot to report yet, as most everything is a bit of a blur, as it usually is on the first day in a new place. The taxi ride from the airport across town to my apartment gave my first glimpse of what it really means to be one of the world's busiest ports-- Singapore's shore is lined with enormous cranes and huge shipping boxes, and boats dot the horizon. What I saw of Singapore's downtown as we sped past on the highway included soaring skyscrapers and more skyscrapers under construction. I live somewhere on the edges of town (I am really not quite sure where yet), on the 15th floor of an apartment complex that can be defined more by it's stark simplicity than its comfort. I share a rather small, linoleum-covered bedroom with another girl, whom I have yet to meet. As far as I can tell, there is no air conditioner, which was a big disappointment after living a whole summer in DC with inadequate AC. I guess I had nothing to complain about.... So, I'm feeling a bit skeptical about my housing arrangements, but will reserve judgment for the time being. I've spent the last few hours wandering around the NUS campus trying to get my bearings-- quite a task because the campus is so huge! Not much to report besides the fact that I managed to successfully register for classes. Next I need to meet my advisor and register for my student visa.

Delhi Impressions

Delhi is everything everyone ever described and more. We are staying in a rather dingy hotel (the"Smyle Inn") in Paharganj near Old Delhi. Last night we discovered the meaning of "cleanish" rooms- ie. there's hair on the sheets and pillow and the blankets smell like a dirty dog. Actually, it's not so bad for seasoned travellers such as ourselves. Well, we did sleep covered head to foot in our clothes (primarily due to the chilly night air though), banged the bed several times to kill any microscopic flesh munchers, and surveyed the wall thoroughly for blood (it is said the bed bugs lie in wait on the wall instead of in the beds for their prey). We also covered the pillow cases with Cara's sleeping bag to make sure no remnants of the last sleepers haunted us at night. You see, Cat is a little paranoid after being attacked by those mysterious bed bugs in London, that left her itching for weeks and scarred still.

Paharganj is a bustling tourist haven. Bright oranges, purples, blues, greens, yellows, golds, silvers, and every color in between dangle from shops. The streets are just wide enough for two rickshaws and a motorcycle to squeeze by each other, of course, narrowly missing colliding with the scores of pedestrians also trying to pick their way through the busy streets. Street vendors constantly haggle passersby to come into their shops and sample their wares. Blaring horns urging anything in front of it to get-out-of-the-way. Cows really do seem to "blend right in", unperturbed by the noise, chaos, and frantic mobility. It is common for a cow to stop in front of a cafe and gaze at you while you eat, or to see an elephant walking through the streets while eating dinner. The cows often graze in the garbage (wouldn't want to eat that) though shop owners do feed the lucky cows a carrot or two in the evening. The streets are uncommonly clean considering the cows wander throughout, in fact we do not have to "watch our step"at all. Although we have decided that this may be a result of the constant traffic, resulting in the fact that any fecal matter is simply ground into the street, rather than the possibility that there are persons specially employed to clean up the shit of these holy animals.

We are still discovering the food. Indian food definitely deserves its good reputation. So far, we've only tasted the vegetarian fare, and lots and lots of chai masala (what we know as chai in the states- a milky, sweet, ginger, cardamom delight). We've also had a couple of fabulous sticky honey sweets from street vendors, and samosas of course.

Peanuts cooked in hot sand, rice balls boiled and topped with syrup, samosas (a pastry filled with curried veggies and potato) with chutney and yellow curry served in a biodegradable leaf bowl, many forms of chapati, etc also line the streets . ..

We arrived in Delhi on Saturday morning, fortunately avoiding the exceedingly long immigration line at the airport through the stealthy work of a business man Cat befriended on the plane. We then sailed through the crowds of taxi cab drivers, having pre-arranged airport pickup with our hotel. Ahh, smooth sailing . . .we loved India already.

The people are joyful, kind, friendly and helpful, save a few amusing calls, "where are you from? Are you from Australia? You are very beautiful. Why are you so serious?" As far as the impending tormet that we were told awaited us, we have experienced very little of it. Of course, there are the typical pushy shopkeepers and male stares, but this is nothing threatening in the least. Maybe many people who've travelled here and felt immensely harrassed had not travelled to Arab countries previously. So far, nothing compares!

As far as begging goes, yes, it is intense. This is definitely a country of contrasts. Children and elderly people do tug your arm, but children seem to know you will not give them $$$ and ask for chai instead (of course this request is much harder to refuse). Their feet are black with dirt and crusty from walking on pavement. Mothers with babies wrapped in their arms follow you and look after you with pitiful eyes. It is a difficult situation to deal with because we want to do all we can to help them, but we're not sure what the best approach is. We have had a number of conversations about this, but these social problems remain unresolved. The poverty in India is more "in your face" than in many other places, so it makes one have to confront the problems, rather than simply push them to the side... How many countries have open, tiled urinals in side streets where men go to relieve themselves, backs to the street, requiring passersby to squeeze past them as they urinate and fill the air with their filthy stench? (the street referred to is on the way to our hotel. Funnily enough, we didn't notice that men were actually openly peeing right next to us until maybe our 4th or 5th time passing by. Wondered where that smell came from...)

We had a discussion with a shopkeeper the other evening who loved Bush, and thought all Muslims were bad people (of course we do not share his opinion). He said that everyone here has his or her place (referring to the caste system) and told us of his state, Rajasthan.

Yesterday evening we wandered to Connaught Place, past families and groups of rickshaw drivers cooking their evening meal on open-fires on the sidewalks. Trees overhang the dark street that glows with the firelight. . . .we meandered through a labyrinth of concrete barriers blocking the construction on the metro, and finally found our way to the heart of Connaught Place. Here, wealthy Indians go to have icecream and eat in nice restaurants. McDonalds and Pizza Hut were available. After wandering around for awhile we decided to hire an auto rickshaw back to Paharganj.

We spent much of today and yesterday wandering the bazar in Pahaganj and have already broken down and purchased gifts. We know of two friends getting married and just couldn't resist the urge to buy wedding gifts. There are many tempting products in the shops here, and we simply can't resist the prices!

Somehow three days have disappeared and we're not really sure what we've done with ourselves. Wandering up and down Paharganj, talking with shopkeepers, sleeping late into the morning, trying to make plans to leave Delhi (seems we keep postponing a departure), getting caught up on email, and simply commencing the real vacation.

We’re trying to figure out what to do for the next couple of weeks. We have two girls from the office coming down to meet us here on Sat. Masha, the director of YHRG and Nadira, the program director, will be here with us for New Years. We can't wait to see them, but it does make our touring a little complicated as Masha has already been here and will only stay for a week. I think our best travel options are to either visit Rajasthan or Kashmir during their time here. Maybe Cat and I will go to Varanasi for a few days before they arrive this Saturday. Well, that's all the news for now.

-Written by Cat, with a few additions by Cara

Travel adventures begin anew as we wander the streets of Delhi, taking in the vibrant life of one of the world's most crowded and exotic countries....

First, however, we want to post some rather amusing anecdotes on Central Asia, written by two British travellers-- Basher and Jeremy-- who we met during our last week in Kyrgyzstan, and who added a bit more fun and flavor to an already memorable week in Bishkek. Here are Jeremy's observations on Central Asian Livin':

[This is an account of Jeremy and Basher's visit to Uzbekistan (one could easily substitute Kyrgyzstan- the cultures are very similar), with insights into Central Asian families, food, and toilets.... ]


"So with equal amounts of curiosity and trepidation, we arrived in Samarkand to the home of Feruza's spinster aunt Madluba, a mafia hunter employed by the government, and a sort of ball-busting version of Dorien from Birds of a Feather. Madlubu had devoted her off-work hours to caring for the hibernating bundle of blankets in the corner who she introduced as her mother. Grandma manifested few visible lifesigns, but stirred sporadically to mutter something in Russian to nobody in particular. You are like Jesus・she told me inexplicably. Unfortunately, my healing hands didn't run to curing advanced dementia.

Next up was the home of another aunt, Madriga, whose domestic arrangements involve labouring all day to bring in the mutton, while hubby sits around in a khalat, and occasionally gives his teenage son a clip round the ear. Then finally to the Bukhara abode of Feruza's own dear mother ・a journalist of some local renown, apparently, but one battling behind closed doors with the demon drink (Anyone for vodka? Oh, just me again then)・. Despite putting on her Best Mum in the World act for our benefit, mother-daughter tensions were clearly running high. The What are you doing with your
life・routine was the favourite, although the truth is that Feruza is engaged in highly daring political activism as well as putting hand to mouth as a waitress, whilst her mother subsidises big bruv professional naval-gazing. Nevertheless, the order of the day was plov-a-plenty (see below), many jovial enquiries into all things British, a rather disturbing randy fascination with Basher, and an insistence that we propose a lot of toasts, as a poor excuse for the woman to neck more vodka.

The Uzbek Book of Hospitality contains only one golden rule: offer your visitors everything you've got, and don't take no for an answer. Whatever food you have must be served up immediately (We got six mint humbugs,
half a melon and some vodka), and if your kids have any amusing talents they must use them to full effect (Dance girl, can't you see we've got guests?!). Oh, and remember: mutton equals happy guests.

Food, spurious food

Central Asian cuisine has evolved from the traditional diets of ancient Turkic tribes. The sum total of this accumulated culinary wisdom comes down
to this: catch an elderly beast that's fallen behind the herd, then boil it. Vegetables are an unnecessary extravagance for a hardy nomadic folk. Plus, I think, seasoning was outlawed as unrevolutionary during Stalinist times. So Uzbek dishes are all offal-based: ostensibly comprising either udders or double chins. All the regions of Uzbekistan put their own spin on dinner time, investing an inordinate amount of effort in reparing the kinds of cuts of meat that your cat would laugh at scornfully. Thus, the pride and joy of the Jizzekh region, for example, is the incomparable, salty
Jizz. What every Uzbek family prays for when gathered round the dinner table is, however, the nation's favourite plov. Here is a recipe for plov, just like your mother used to make:

WHAT YOU WILL NEED:

1. Some form of meat・ Ask your butcher for something that died in mysterious circumstances・
2. Plov is a rice and mutton dish. Calculate the quantity of rice needed for the evening to end like the Gluttony scene from Seven. Then double it.
3. Vodka for the chef (mandatory).
4. Garnish of soggy carrot scrapings, fished out of the plug hole (optional).
5. Spices or flavouring of any description? Not for this recipe Delia!

PREPARATION:

1. Laying your pound of flesh on a chopping board, carefully cut out the leanest, most tender morsels. Throw those bits away.
2. Tenderize by dropping on the floor a few times. Any bits of fluff that get stuck on only add sophistication.
3. Heating the rice in chip oil will be much more original than doing it the old-fashioned way.
4. At this point in the cooking you will probably begin to realize the sheer scale of the cock-up you've created. Start drinking your vodka NOW.
5. Serve the whole lot on a single plate in a great steaming heap. Stand over your guests swigging vodka menacingly until they either finish it or start to cry. As they run to the toilet, cheerfully inform them that it doesn't work.

Tummy trouble

After a few days with an Uzbek family, mealtimes will start to look a bit like this:

Breakfast: garlic and pig trotter soup
Lunch: cocktail of antacid tablets and Imodium, washed down with tea that looks like crude oil.
Dinner: plov time again, is it Mother?

Now the human digestive system really is a miraculous thing. Think about it: day after day it does its duty, sifting through the inappropriate matter you shovel down to find something salvageable and nutritious, and
compacting the rejected remainder into soft, manageable pellets for easy disposal. After a particularly good clearout you congratulate yourself, with nary a thought to who the real hero is. Yet your stomach labours on.

After this much punishment, however, your well-maintained plumbing will have degenerated into a bubbling, gastric Chernobyl. Dashing from the dinner
table to the bathroom, therefore, you will not be best pleased to find that the antique lavatory hasn't flushed since Stalin, and is now a museum of mutant parasites, trapped like flies in amber in the encrusted bowl.
Time for a trip outside, then, where yet more horrors await.

A rickety shed down the street houses the communal dumping ground where bad plov comes to die. A letterbox shaped hole in the floor goes down 15 feet
to what can only be indelicately described as an enormous pile of crap. You're going to spend a good deal of time here, getting to know every knot in the timber, and striking up a decent rapport with the old woman from up the street who seems to walk past like clockwork every time the wind blows the door open. Aiming your watery bowel movements accurately from a
squatting position ought to be a training exercise for the RAF. Bonus points if you can make the turd pillar topple over by the sheer force of your own discharge. Twenty odd minutes of listening to the faint patter of
turd on turd later, thoroughly drained, its time to go for a lie down, and hope to God that everything will be alright in the morning."


Well, at least Cat and I didn't have to endure any stomach traumas quite that horrible, although we did have an encounter with the toilet in Osh that made us vow to become vegetarians forevermore (hmm, that didn't last long). The letterbox toilets are definitely a favourite out here, and I must note that in some ways at least, guys have it a lot easier than girls on that account!!

Written by Cara
(with a lot of help from Jeremy)

Our time in Kyrgyzstan (well, my time, since Cat is coming back here after our India trip) has flown by so fast and now there is only a week left! We've barely had time to write in the blog here, but we will make more of an effort in India when we resume our vagabonding ways. We fly to Delhi next Saturday morning, the 20th. Unfortunately, our schedules are so packed that we haven't had much time to do any preliminary research on what we would like to do in Delhi, so that will all be done on the spot.

Anyway, winter has definitely entrenched itself out here now. Yesterday was probably the coldest day of the year. Poor Cat was freezing at her work out at the base- most stores here are along the lines of open-air stalls with only small, portable heaters for warmth- and the North Face shop at the base is no exception.

I've decided that Kyrgyzstan at this time of the year is a combination of winter wonderland and winter nightmare. Everything is blanketed in white and it is gorgeous. The air is crisp and clear and the white mountains tower behind the Soviet buildings. Lenin points skyward from underneath a blanket of snow (the Lenin statue is ironically now right next to the American University- it was banished to this less conspicuous locale earlier this year and replaced on the main square with a statue of liberty-esque thing). Everywhere I go, I see mothers and fathers pulling their small children behind them on sleds.

This winter joyousness is directly juxtaposed with the vision of a woman sitting on the roadside, shivering beneath a plastic tarp that is draped over her like a shawl, hoping to make money from the small pile of sad-looking pickles that is vanishing under the falling snow. The work goes on and you would think this country would be equipped for winter, but it is not. All of the markets are open-air. Vendors weigh out oranges with chapped and swollen hands. Sniffling and rosy-cheeked children wander around trying to sell whatever they can get their hands on. I know that there are hundreds of street children in this town- you cannot avoid them- and I cannot imagine how they cope with the cold. I mean, we suffer because the heat isn't turned up high enough! This is another appalling problem that the Kyrgyz government must face: lack of gas to provide heat. Uzbekistan supplies Kyrgyzstan with gas, but their tyrant of a leader makes this relationship as difficult as possible. For example, now, for the first time in thirteen years Uzbekistan has demanded that Kyrgyzstan must pay entirely in cash for their gas imports. Of course, there is no way Kyrgyzstan is capable of doing this. So the Kyrgyz people will likely have to suffer from no heat right in the middle of the coldest part of winter. No wonder people still yearn for Soviet times.


written by Cara

Quick apologies for the slap-dash manner of the last entry. Was suddenly overwhelmed with guilt for not writing in so long and wanted to at least put something.... grammar and punctuation mistakes and all!
-Cara

I have the unfortunate task of trying to write a monumental blog entry without the help of Catherine. The two of us are almost becoming co-dependant on each other! Our writing, our cooking, our fumblings in Russian- all have become enhanced by our combined efforts. We’ve been thinking about how we have become each other’s family out here and what a change it will be when I go back to the U.S. and Cat stays out here… I’m going to miss her so much!!! And I must say that I am quite jealous. I think Central Asia has worked its way into my blood. So much so that I am already plotting ways to come back out here this summer. Another legal internship perhaps? It’s a thought…

Well, it’s another cold, snowy evening in Bishkek. Cat is out with a friend, Boris, a local guy of Ukrainian origin who has a very cute curly mop and is interested in her North Face-sellin’ self… I’m passing the evening as usual at the office, working on a paper for law school, and listening to Russian MTV in the background. I was thinking I ought to write a bit about what our days are like here in Bishkek. We are so busy that we don’t have time to write often, and here’s why….

8:30 Cat has Russian lessons (I used to attend lessons also, but the pressure of getting my law assignments done as well as the internship work has become too much, and I’ve had to let this go- while I tell myself that I will try really hard to study Russian in the evenings). Russian lessons last until 11:30. It is 3 hours of grueling one-on-one combat with a robust and boundlessly energetic Russian woman who seems to be just a little drunk at times…

I go to work at the same time- normally to the Legal Aid Center for the morning. There, I do random tasks helping Altynai with translations or legal issues, drink lots and lots of tea, and hope that there are no explosions that cause the power to go out for hours on end. Sometimes I am left to my own means at the office, when I try to answer the phone in Russian and communicate that the caller needs to call back later.

Cat usually goes home for a shower and a mini-break after Russian lessons and then meets me at the office around 1:00 or 1:30. We normally have a pile of errands to get done- post office, bazaar, tailor, administrative tasks errands for the office, travel agent, etc.

Then around 3:00 or 4:00 we make it out to the main office where the real work starts. We battle our way to a computer and get working on our various projects. For example, Cat just completed a rather involving report on Child Protection Systems in the US, and I am now starting a report on Juvenile Justice issues in the US. We also put in a lot of time preparing a recent publication in English: Monitoring Human Rights in Orphanages and Boarding Schools for Abandoned Children in the Kyrgyz Republic.

Sometimes we make it out of the office by 7:00 or 8:00 pm, but oftentimes not. In fact, Cat has taken to sleeping on the floor at the office lately! (a direct result of this child protection report).

We also have a good circle of friends and a pretty busy social life here. Many evenings are full with dinners and outings with friends. We go out dancing at least once or twice a week on weekends. It’s doubly insane now for Cat now that she has this North Face job on weekends. She gets up at 6:30am to go to work and gets back from the Base around 9:30 or 10:00 pm, and usually meets us straightaway for a night on the town.

My weekends lately have been full with the usual work or some huge projects for the organization. Last weekend I spent the entire time preparing for the organization’s 8th birthday. I made little paper hats for 10 hours!! That was enough artistic creativity for one day…. I thought I never wanted to see a paper hat again. They were smash hits at the party, although I secretly thought we all looked like giant ice cream cones bobbing around on the dance floor.

Well, I am being summoned- business dinner with people from the OSCE. They were out here for a conference yesterday regarding human rights in orphanages. So, this is going on and on, but I still can’t come up with an adequate conclusion…. Desolee!

Written by Cara

Whenever we get back to Bishkek everything returns to the work routine, life slows down, and we no longer have interesting anecdotes to relate in this blog! Winter has definitely come to Kyrgyzstan- we had our first snow this weekend and it is still lingering. The cold has set in, and we are shivering our way to work in the mornings, and trying to avoid the gray mood that can come with the onset of winter.

Cat had her first post office experience yesterday, which was soooo frustrating. Imagine, waiting in a huddle for nearly an hour with approximately 8 other people all trying to shove their way to the front of the counter, eventually never to be served. A pointless waste of time. It reminds me of Morocco when I had to buy my books and ended up waiting in line for 2 hours, even though there were only two people in front of me. One of the things one really grows to appreciate while travelling or living abroad is the American sense of efficiency and service. It's also rather disheartening to think about the fact that if these societies cannot even run a post office efficiently, how are they supposed to develop and run a democracy and capitalist market economy?

Written by Cara

“Tumblings and Ramblings”

So, we left you stranded in a Sanatorium outside of Osh. The seminar, “Teaching Human Rights” for educators ended last Friday, November 7th. It was interesting and we learned many techniques to teach human rights to children and youth. After a night of dancing until the wee hours and saying goodbye to the other participants we piled into a van and were driven back into “civilization”. We stopped briefly at a new marvel, the “Aga Khan” school, where we were astounded by the ornate handiwork and detail of everything from the tiled and patterned wooden floors to windows imprinted with traditional Kyrgyz designs. The fresh scent of wood lingered everywhere.
We moseyed briefly through the bazaar with the girls from the Youth Human Rights Group. Alas, our visit was rapidly cut short because several of the women became lost and the rest of the group waited impatiently. We opted to wander the streets in search of our hotel instead of taking the ride out to the airport and back.
The “Taj Majal” hotel was better than expected, decked out with a TV (with more than one babbling Russian channel) and a rather nice bathroom. Although, we thought we trapped in the North Pole during the night and succumbed to wearing all of our clothes (which incidentally haven’t been removed since, as it is very, very cold). We smartened up the next night and stole the blankets from the proprietress next door (actually, she willingly conceded them).

We’ll save you from more boring details and move on to climbing (actually strolling up) Suleman Mountain (more like a rocky hill) in the middle of the town. Osh actually celebrated its 3000 year anniversary in 2000. Well known historical figures like Alexander the Great are part of Osh’s colorful history. The mountain chill got to us so we went in search of some local art. Cati stopped in a nearby deserted building to leave remnants; the smell emanating from the locally-frequented building drove Cara twenty feet away. There was a side door opening into a dark hallway, and thinking that it was just a typical establishment we entered and peered at drawings lining the walls. We happened upon a man who turned out to be a professor and he gave us a private tour of the gallery and his personal studio.

After much confusion and meandering in the dark in the opposite direction from our hotel we managed to communicate to Mr. Artist that we were staying by the old Demir Bank, not the new one. We passed the night brainstorming ideas of how to “save the world”. It was a nice break from the previous evening of being surrounded by random men in an internet café who kept asking us definitions of words such as “sponge” and “cuddle” in between their heated conversations with internet lovers. The walk home consisted of constant dodging of gangs of prostitutes (it was shocking because these women dressed normally and on first glance were unrecognizable as prostitutes) and vodka soaked men.

Navigating the local transportation seemed daunting, but turned out to be rather fun. We traveled from Osh to Uzgan on a mashrutka and mangled our way through several Russian conversations with fellow passengers. It was overcast all morning and lapping the dirt streets of Uzgan several times in search of the architectural monuments and main bus station made us a fine shade of blue (note the theme of the day, we need to buy more warm clothes ‘cause its frickin freezing).

The red brick mausoleums honoring bygone kings of the 12th century stood determinedly against the pasture and gray sky. They are marvelous testaments to Islamic decoration and architecture. The solemness of the people and weather were tempered by a rather theatrical muddy face plant by Cara. Cat did not come to the rescue as she stood in blatant disbelief of the slow motion tumbling passing before her eyes. A group of youngsters were thoroughly amused by the event and Cara, she took it very well, though she was covered in mud for the rest of the day. Throngs of hard faced men stood in packs along the road (ogling us), and we admitted that it would be a very, very difficult place to be a female Peace Corps worker. After stopping several women and asking directions to the main bus station we wandered into an enclosed area lined with buses and overflowing with head-scarf clad women, and men in long jackets and tall white embroidered felt hats. Different people directed us to different buses supposedly departing for Jalal-abad and at long last a young man approached asking in perfect English, “where are you going?” We followed the other women and climbed on to the bus early to obtain seats and huddled there for several hours while the bus was repaired. The ride passed quickly as we spoke to several young Kyrgyz and Uzbek youths in broken Russian and English. Finally, the broad tree-lined streets (a seeming must for city-planners) of Jalal-abad welcomed us. It is true that there is nothing to do here except eat in cafes and we have taken care of that this evening, eating in three of them. So, we’re moving on tomorrow for the mountains and ancient walnut forests (cat loves walnuts).

Written by Cat and Cara in a dark internet café in Jalal-abad!

Disaster struck. Four times so far- and we thought bad luck only came in threes. It seems that we’ve been cursed this last week… (I have to add that since we wrote this- we’re doing a looong blog update thing by writing during the evenings after a conference- the disasters keeps on multiplying).

It all started on Wednesday night with Cat, deserted in the office, Russian MTV blaring American pop, cramming to finish her project by the impending deadline. An explosion. Shards of glass everywhere. Total darkness. She practically dove under the desk thinking she was the target of some crazy sniper attack. It turned out just to be the induction, “everything goes wrong when you spend you’re first night in the office alone” experience. The exploding light bulb was followed by crashing computers and the disappearance of her document. Many humorous calls were made to Nazgul for help. A sleepless night was followed by semi-conscious Russian lessons. Cara and Cat finally made it home that afternoon barely in time for their rendezvous with Ben and John outside their door (a meeting arranged so that the boys could do their laundry and pick up their pots and pans). The key was put into the lock, but the door refused to open. After attempting to jiggle the lock free with a credit card (as if it is really ever that easy), and even toying with the idea of scaling the walls to enter from the balcony, they called upon Nazgul to get the spare key. A fairly straightforward, albeit rather annoying, solution. Predestination had other plans. A little background: the previous week Cat and Cara had returned home one evening and locked the top lock, as usual. However, try as they might, they were unable to later remove this key from the top lock. In fact every visitor treated the key “as the sword in the stone.” There it remained until this fateful day, when it had somehow gotten twisted when the housekeeper came to clean, jamming the lock shut. Nazgul, (who’s beginning to gain ta reputation as our savior), loaded down with a VCR and our keys, arrived an hour and a half later. But, the stubborn lock still would not budge. We left, beaten, destined to spend the night on the floor of the boys’ living room. This wasn’t much of a hardship though, as we lightened our spirits with a “Sex in the City” video marathon.

The next morning was a frenzy of activity. At long last, a locksmith came and Cara and Cat were able to take showers after a three day hiatus from cleanliness. The afternoon flew by. We packed for the conference in Osh, wandered around Bishkek looking for a bank, ate ice cream in the park and finally ended up at the tailor. Cara’s getting some clothes made from her African fabric: bright yellows, oranges, blues, maroons, with squiggles, zig zags and masks. They’re her to a T. Cara and Cat finally dragged home around 7 pm, just in time, or so they thought to be the Good Samaritans by starting the boys’ laundry and cooking dinner for the girls from the office (a pre-Halloween warm up). Second load done and third to go. Cat’s changing for the evening’s festivities were interrupted by loud shrieks from the kitchen by Cara. “Holy shit! Help! Help! Cat get help, get in here now!” Torrents of black water spewed from the washing machine pipe, flooding the kitchen and snaking across the hallway floor. Cat, naked, raced to help. In transit, the doorbell rang. Nazgul, the first of the guests to arrive for dinner, waited patiently on the other side of the door, unprepared for the chaos that would meet her. She heard screams from the apartment and was greeted by Cat streaking by and a river of soapy black water rushing toward her. “Ah, turn it off, turn it off!” she yelled. Cara hit the “off” button (should have thought of that before) and the waterfall subsided. We scrambled for towels and buckets to mop up the mess, meanwhile bewilderedly staring at the washing machine hose that had spontaneously decided that it had had its day, and busted in about ten places. Unfortunately, the cycle wasn’t finished though, and we couldn’t leave the laundry to mildew. So, we rigged a double bucket system and held the hose just right. Every now and then runaway squirts of water re-soaked the repeatedly mopped floor. The rinsing cycles seemed never ending. At least an hour passed of “quick, change the bucket, change the bucket,” “stop squirting water everywhere,” and never-ending mopping. The other guest witnessed a rather subdued version of the funny predicament. As is Kyrgyz custom, they all arrived suitably late (thank God), merely finding Cara with her pants rolled up to her knees, running back and forth with buckets. Finally, all was clean and the ten of us sat down to enjoy good ‘ole home-cooked spaghetti with cabbage salad. The party laughed about the night’s adventures and headed to the “Metro Bar” for the Halloween celebrations “a la Americaine.” The costumes conjured up pictures of “Animal House” and the walls reverberated with Russian disco music. We weren’t quite into the spirit of the party, not having dressed up (who has time when there are exploding washing machines to worry about?). However, about halfway through the party some face paint came our way and we spiced up our boring outfits with some facial art. Cara painted a huge butterfly on Cat’s face, and soon random people were coming out of the woodwork asking her is she was “the face painter.” Right… anyway, she did her civic duty and painted a few extra faces, free of charge of course. By the way, Cat has gotten the bright idea that we need to take our face painting skills to the streets and start earning some valuable money. It’s an idea….

We departed for Osh at 8:30 on Saturday morning (after about 2 hours of sleep), sigh, believing all was well on the home front, and that our week of disasters was to be replaced by new adventures (of the more welcome sort) in Osh.

Osh is in the south of Kyrgyzstan, a more traditional area of the country. The city represents the Kyrgyzstan that we expected before arriving. The town is full of cafes and a huge bazaar, mosques, and cars driving every which way, ignoring the possibility that there might be any traffic rules. A large hill, or mountain, dominates the center of the city, and is the major landmark by which to orient oneself. Luckily, we arrived on Saturday afternoon but didn’t have any duties until Sunday. So, Cat, Cara, Nazgul, Sveta, and Kahramon (guy from Tajikstan), took a taxi into the city to spend a few hours wandering around- the conference is a bit outside of town at a Sanatorium, so this was one of our few chances to explore the city. Nazgul took us to a “milk café” (where many foods are made from milk products) and we feasted on raspberry pancakes, fried donut-like things with smetana (like sour cream), shashlik (meat on a stick), and palmeni (or however you say it- it’s kind of like ravioli dumplings in a yogurt/smetana sauce). We all agreed that milk cafes are awesome and that we need to learn to cook some of these delights (to add to our small Kyrgyz cooking repertoire, which now consists of: funchoza, umari, manti, and pilaf- not sure how well we can make any of those, but theoretically, we should be able to manage these cooking feats). Nazgul also took us to the bazaar, where we loaded ourselves down with nuts and chocolates to take back to Bishkek, and if we can manage to fit them into our bags, maybe we’ll even bring some back to the States with us- the nuts here are amazingly tasty and cheap.

Since we’re talking about food again (yes, food is an inevitable conversation topic while traveling because a large percentage of a traveler’s time is spent exploring foreign cultures, including the varying cuisines). Right now we have become self-declared vegetarians. At least temporarily. Because two nights ago (Sunday) we all had the lovely opportunity of experiencing food-related illness of the highest order. Actually, Nazgul was the sickest of the sick. Catherine and I listened in horror as she proceeded to vomit out what sounded like all of her internal organs throughout the night. Everything only proceeded to get worse. At about 3am Nazgul was in such pain that we feared she had appendicitis, or an ovarian cyst, or hepatitis, or about anything else we could imagine. Cara ran to get Nadira, who drowsily stumbled down to our room, freaked out by Cara’s frantic mutters in French that Nazgul was very very sick and should go to the hospital. Problem. The sanatorium where we are staying is in an isolated area outside of town and there are no cars. So it took two hours for a doctor from the hospital to make it out here. All the while Nazgul was writhing in pain and we kept imagining worse and worse scenarios. Luckily, it just turned out to be a serious reaction to some rather nasty food. In fact, just a few hours later, Cara had her own bout with the food devil (although not nearly as bad as Nazgul) and Catherine, too, experienced some lingering discomfort from what we have decided must have been some rancid meat. Hence the newly-adopted vegetarianism.

To return to the disaster saga, our laundry adventures did not end with our departure to Osh. Of course not. Being the good and trusting friend that we are, we loaned our keys to our friend so that he could finish his laundry while we were gone. We told him all about the exploding washing machine and the debacle of Friday night. He promised to fix it- i.e. replace the hose- and then complete his laundry. Well, Sunday afternoon Nadira arrived here with a rather grave look on her face….. shit. Turns out that the laundry disaster erupted into a laundry horror story, when, on Saturday night Masha (our boss) received a phone call that our apartment was completely flooded and that water was washing into the apartment below. Ok, we’re still not quite sure what happened, but we most emphatically state that we are not to blame (we were, after all, in Osh) and that we are simply cursed by the laundry gods. Maybe we will forego doing laundry for the rest of this trip….

The good news is that the rest of the week has passed without incident.

Written by Cara and Catherine

After a night of enduring mosquitoes gnawing on my forehead and sweating from the uncharacteristic humid weather, I awoke to a beautiful morning. The necessity of crawling out of bed after a scant few hours of sleep to go to Russian lessons could not diminish the beauty of the new day. Ah! Even the smoke seemed thinner than the last few days. In fact, I didn’t notice as many burning piles of leaves today—maybe people are finally realizing the futility of such efforts when the leaves just keep on falling.

An unfortunate calamity befell us a couple of weeks ago—my camera broke. I’m not quite sure how this happened, and can hardly believe it, after having that trusty camera never fail me for at least 10 or 15 years! But alas, these things happen I guess. Everything seems to be working perfectly, except that the film doesn’t catch and start winding. So of course, right when this happens, I keep spotting perfect photo opportunities and wishing that I had my camera at hand. I guess we’ll have to either venture into the world of disposable cameras or get a generous friend to loan us a camera.

Written by Cara

Sorry- just realized there are weird symbols popping up all over these posts. Must be the Russian keyboards. I'll see if there's anything I can do to fix this little annoyance, but don't count on it-
cheers,
Cara

We’re spending another Monday night sleeping at the office- this is becoming a habit. The place is so busy during the day that sometimes it is difficult to have computer access, and as our work revolves largely around research and writing, this is essential. For example, right now it is 4:30pm and the office is teaming with people dashing back and forth working on preparations for next week’s human rights conference in Osh. Well, perhaps I exaggerate the hectic atmosphere of the office. I wouldn’t say that it is ever really stressed out here- in fact, I would characterize the YHRG as a relaxed office full of good-humoured and efficient workers. Which is why we love it so much here! It really is the ideal work atmosphere to be surrounded by good friends that you trust and enjoy working with. If only every work environment was quite so ideal….

8:00pm has just passed now and I am slaving away editing the English version of a report on Human Rights in Orphanages in the Kyrgyz Republic. I am actually learning lots of interesting (and disturbing) information about the conditions of orphanages in Kyrgyzstan, but I must admit that it can be tedious work. I don’t know how professional editors or translators do it- staring at grammar, grammar, grammar all day long. It is totally different from the creative process that goes into one’s own writing, and sometimes it can be quite challenging to technically correct another person’s writing without changing the content or the essence of the words. This is my big task for the week, as I want to finish this report before we head to Osh. It needs to be ready for publication.

Catherine is working on finding information about child protection and juvenile justice in the US right now, and I must admit that I am a bit envious because her task is far more interesting than mine! I’m not sure how exactly we assumed these duties for the week, but it just kind of happened…

I guess that’s a bit of background on the workaday routine here in Kyrgyzstan. Just to prove that we are actually working hard and not just flitting around paragliding, having dinner parties, and shopping at the bazaar-

Written by Cara

Bishkek is ablaze with Autumn. Literally. Leaf removal crews are out about the city clearing up the abundance of golden leaves from the streets in whatever way they can, be it with small, handmade straw brooms or enormous bulldozers. Heaps of golden leaves sit on the street corners, bidding goodbye to the remnants of summer- one last hoorah before incineration. Smoke tendrils curl up from the wilting leaves, creating a haze that drifts over Bishkek. The air feels a bit heavy during this time of year, and the expectation of impending winter is slowly creeping upon the inhabitants of this Central Asian city. Small children are bundled up to keep out the cold- their pumpkin faces sandwiched between fuzzy winter caps and warm jackets. Street vendors appear well-equipped for the crisp cool of morning.

Last weekend summer made an unexpected visit, and we greeted it joyfully by heading to the foothills for an afternoon of paragliding. Our second paragliding adventure was as exciting as the first- better in many ways because the gray clouds had disappeared from the horizon, and the towering white mountains came into view. Thus, we spent an ideal afternoon alternating between flying through the air against a backdrop of painted mountains, and sunning ourselves contentedly on the hilltop as we watched various paragliders take off and land in the distant fields.

The unexpected heat of the weekend has now crawled back into hibernation, letting autumn reign in full glory. We are celebrating the season by hosting various dinner parties this week, and cooking up a storm with the last of the fresh produce. Apparently, we will soon be subsisting off pickled vegetables (other people’s pickled vegetables since we have neglected to prepare any for ourselves) and the interminable bread and meat.

Written by Cara

"Lake Issyk-Kul"

We've been a bit incommunicado this week because we've been holed up at the Royal Beach Resort at Lake Issyk-Kul for a seminar on the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights' Standards and Mechanisms. Will write more about it later, but basically we had a great time collaboring with and getting to know lawyers from around Kyrgyzstan, as well as diving into the frigid lake.........

-Cara

Tried to post this earlier in the week, but had some trouble. But anyway, here it is-

Nearly a week has passed since our last entry and it is getting more and more difficult to remember everything we’ve done without writing a novel in order to include it all! But, do not despair, I’ll do my faithful best to relay all of our interesting exploits of the last week….

This has been a week of meeting interesting people and never lacking new things to do. It seems that nearly every night after work we had somewhere to go and someone to meet. In fact, George had to play absentee daughter for most of the week and crash at my place because of all the late nights on the town.

This chain of activity started on Wednesday night when we had the great fortune to attend a free concert at the Philharmonic. The concert was a special production sponsored by the Swiss Corporation. A music group called Tien Shan, which was composed of twenty musicians from Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Mongolia, Khakassia (a region of Russia), and Switzerland, fused their music together to create one of the most unique and eclectic sounds we have ever heard. The low, guttural vocalizations of the Mongolians harmonized with the softly beguiling pipes of the Kyrgyz, while the Tajik drums simultaneously added depth to the jazz-tinged yodels of the Swiss. I don’t know if it’s really possible to paint this music into words, as it was the most unexpected combination of sounds that one can imagine! Each group on its own produced extremely beautiful music, and when they came together they had us entranced, eyes and ears soaking in the ethereal magnificence of the performance.

After the concert we weren’t ready to go home, so we went across the street to the newly-opened Metro Bar (formerly called the “American Pub”) to hang out for awhile before retiring for the night. I had visited this club with Masha the previous week, and I wanted to show the place to George, as it was apparently one of the “in” places in town (which has definitely been confirmed). We were tamely enjoying some tomato soup and water when a guy behind us asked us “if we were American missionaries?” Ha! That’s the first time anyone’s ever asked me if I was a missionary…. Apparently, he had taken in our appearance and ruled out the possibility of us being diplomats or another form as expat (we’re a bit too shabby to pass ourselves off as such) and he knew we weren’t peace corps volunteers, seeing as he was one, which left… missionaries. Well, we forgave him for this grievous mistake, and we had a nice long chat and received an invite to a dinner party the following evening.

So, Thursday night rolled around, we did our best to appear the least missionary-like that we could, and found our way to Ben’s (another peace corps volunteer) house, where we were surprised to find that we were the only girl guests in a crowd of around 10 or so guys. Unavoidable observation. But, these guys turned out to be a really friendly and interesting group, and we had a great time. We even had the great fortune to partake in some homemade apple pie, a pleasure that is rare in this corner of the universe.

Friday night passed by fairly uneventfully in preparation for the promise of a more exciting Saturday.

We had been looking forward to Saturday all week, as it was Nadira’s (one of the girls from the office) birthday. We all planned a big bash for her at Janae’s (an American foreign service officer) house, and then at Metro Bar afterwards. Cat and I wanted to surprise Nadira with a cake, so after spending the morning at the office, we bought everything we needed (not an easy task) and headed to Masha’s for a bit of baking. Now, this was probably the biggest accomplishment of the week, because the cake that we managed to produce was absolutely orgasmic…. who would have thought? A bit of creativity, and wow, together, we can come up with some incredible inventions in the kitchen. This one is definitely a keeper and will probably be passed down to our respective kids as a secret family recipe….

The party was really a lot of fun. To begin with, the embassy does very well by its employees, and Janae’s apartment was the perfect place to host a party for 20 or so people. And then Altynai had called over to Metro Bar earlier and specifically requested that they had the DJ ready to cater to our dancing needs. All in all, it was one of those fun and memorable nights.

Sunday was supposed to be a slow day of relaxing and getting some work done. It’s a really good thing that it turned out otherwise! John (the guy who made the apple pie on Thursday night) called us up and asked us if we wanted to “go flying.” Hell yeah! This meant that he took us out paragliding with him. He is in the middle of his training and takes weekly lessons from a daredevil Russian guy with a metal plate in his head, Sacha. Cat and I, as well as a former peace corps volunteer, Lucas, and Janae made up a merry party of paragliders headed for the mountains. Janae drove us all in her jeep (we were telling her that she ought to get her jeep sponsored by the company or something as the day was full of “jeep commercial” moments- jeep driving through herds of sheep across a field to pick up paraglider, jeep perched on hill top with towering mountains behind, mud-covered jeep at end of happy, active day…). I was particularly lucky to get to be the first person John ever took on a tandem ride. This meant that we had 3 crash take-offs before finally managing to make it into the air. Nothin like being dragged through brambles behind a runaway parachute, the smell of cow shit assailing the nostrils as the ground thumps by. Actually, as most of you can probably guess, I really didn’t mind having a few crash and burn experiences. I always think that it’s a great way to get rid of any fear that might be teetering on the edge of the mind- you know, it’s no longer unknown, so what’s there to fear? Anyway, both Cat and I agree that paragliding is one of the most incredible sports ever, and we are contemplating taking it up ourselves....

Written by Cara

"Bishkek Wanderings"

First weekend in Bishkek and our plans to visit Lake Issyk-Kul were aborted in the hopes that we will have the chance to attend a conference there next week. Instead, we spent the weekend orientating ourselves with Bishkek. We went to a place called Manas Isly- something like that. It was a sort of an ode to the cement creations of mankind commemorating the Great Manas. Manas is the Kyrgyz national epic hero- "The Illiad of the Steppes" that tells of the formation of the Kyrgyz people. Manas is the superhero who carved out a homeland for the Kyrgyz people.

The best part of the visit was actually the stunning view of the mountains. Most of the time the mountains hide behind a shroud of clouds, and you wouldn't even know they're there. But on a rare day when the clouds part and the sky is a soft azure, the mountains tower over the city, their snow-capped peaks reaching into eternity. Bishkek is on a sort of flat plain rolling out from the base of the mountains (kind of like Denver, although the mountains here are far more stunning). Cara, who now uses "The Lord of the Rings" as her measuring stick for worldly beauty, definitely classifies these mountains as something of such epic proportions.

That was Sunday... actually, now that we look back on this weekend, we didn't really do that much.... Saturday was Cat's host mom's birthday so we both attended her celebration and got a taste of some fine home cookin. We were also coerced into dancing with her mom to try to banish the blues when the whole family left for the airport because Julia, one of Cat's host sisters, was surprisingly called to take a job as a stewardess on a flight to the UAE that evening.

Sunday afternoon was a beautiful, magical day in Bishkek. But we spent most of the time wandering around trying to find brown sugar so we could make cookies. To no avail. But we did substitute cinnamon and white sugar for brown sugar, and it turned out somewhat decent. Well, Cara was horribly offended by the quality of these cookies, definitely terming them the worst chocolate chip cookies she had ever made. A true travesty to cookie making. Cat thinks Cara is delusional and has too high standards for cookie making. Once we figured out how not to use foil and charboil the bottoms they were a delicate mix of chocolate hazelnut and sugar cookie. Although, by this time we'd both had so much dough, they all tasted the same and maybe we were both just hoping that our craving for real American chocolate chip cookies had been satisfied. We both had rather upset stomachs for the rest of the night. There's a reason why mom's say not to eat so much dough...

At least we know that we can cook normally, and these cookies were just a fluke (it's only because we didn't have the right ingredients and the oven was old and testy)... right. Well, we did manage something spectacular with that lasagna in Istanbul. Look for more cooking adventures to come throughout this time in Kyrgyzstan, as we will attempt to delight our friends with culinary splendours.

Anyway, we've been at the office since 9 this morning and have the enviable job of staying here all night and all day tomorrow. There has to be someone at the office 24 hours a day in order to ward off crime. Actually, it's not a bad job cuz there's a comfy sofa bed and internet all night long...

We are both determined to regain our healthy selves and put the days of food food and more food behind us. Thus we have started our new resolution by fasting for a day and drinking lemon water. Although we are about to eat soup.

Written by Cara and Cat