Manav Sadhana 1

On the way to Ahmedabad from Delhi, I met a friendly man named Uday on the train who works in the Ministry of Textile. He was very kind and shared a lot of information on Ahmedabad. I wrote down notes for things to see, unsure how much I could fit in, but glad to learn. He had a good sense of humor and kept me laughing on the way, which is always appreciated, especially on long train rides.He told Kristeen (whom he called chotee) and I (whom he called chotoo) to get off a stop early as it was closer to where we wanted to go, so we did and then made our way to Manav Sadhana. I'd heard of Manav Sadhana through Kristeen and other friends who had visited and volunteered there. Many of those friends had gone back several times and could not say enough wonderful things about the place.I was apprehensive about going to Gujarat, due to the anti-Muslim riots which took place in 2002, but did so just to connect to this organization. We arrived from the train station by auto rickshaw and sat down as they were starting their morning meeting with a prayer and moment of silence. We joined and were warmly welcomed with sandoor.We introduced ourselves, then relaxed a bit, put our luggage in our respective girl's and boy's volunteer homes, then took a tour of the slum they had adopted. We got a glimpse of several nursery schools and then the school/community center which was beautiful. Even the people in the colony were warm and welcoming. To me this was really interesting to see that there had been created a real sense of community in the slum and a lot of work was being done hand in hand with the community. They were accustomed to and appreciative of the volunteers who came in their colony.The school/community center had a lot of really creative uses of recycled materials used for construction and decoration. From colored paper wrappers, to bottles and crates these materials were really artisically repurposed. They also had a nice library where I learned how they keep things organized to check out books to children in the community.There were beautiful murals and a nursery with a cool slide and swings. After looking at the slide (yes, a slide) entrance and cool swinging baby in the nursery, I decided that it was the place to live. Afterwards we walked back to Manav Sadahna next to the Gandhi Ashram and met some of the earn and learn kids who create beautiful cards and other items for sale while also going to school and receiving an education. Jagat bhai was removing some strings that were making life tough for a bird he found with entangled feet.Then it was time for my first workshop there. I sat down with the earn and learn kids and taught them to make flip books. This time, I started with circle (gole), triangle (tricone) and square (chorus) on a blackboard and had the kids draw this in different positions, sizes and shapes on their flipbooks. This quickly got the concept across. Then I gave suggestions by drawing blooming flowers, stick figures etc with which the kids could create something new. Jagat bhai is also a very talented artist with many amazing pieces focused on religous harmony depicting many symbols of various religions in creative and beautiful ways. It was really heartwarming to see the kids take to animation so quickly and also to see the adults taking part too. It was really sweet to get all of that support from Kristeen, "", Jagat bhai and really just everyone there. I felt at home right away thanks to all the warmth.Anjali, one of the amazing people at Manav Sadhana met me and within minutes was on the phone arranging workshops with the various schools in Manav Sadhana. I was really grateful for how everyone invited me in and trusted me with their precious time and resources. It is very humbling to walk into a group of truly dedicated and amazing adults and kids and to try and share something that you hope will be worth their time.

Old Delhi for a moment

Went to old Delhi for a bit before jumping on the train to Ahmedabad. Old Delhi certainly has a lot more interesting architecture, but it is so horribly polluted that it does not feel like a place for people to live. I'll have to explore more next time if I get a chance.Off to Ahmedabad via train!

Sonu and the Taj

I took a day trip to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and the Agra fort. It is beautiful and much like the beautiful architecture in Lahore, Pakistan. There was a crazy number of people hawking and annoying tourists outside to eek out a living, but inside it was much more peaceful. It really is a beautiful place, but it seemed so familiar having been to Lahore.On the train there I saw a young boy with an impressive mustache named Sonu. Sonu, along with his drummer sister is a performer who dances and rolls through the train cars for money. It's quite sad really. These sweet children perform much the way street performing monkeys do. I hope he and his sister are well fed and loved. I asked the little sweetheart his name and he said "Sonu".

Manzil Animation Workshop in Delhi

Thanks to Kristeen Singh I had the pleasure of doing my first animation workshop in India with the amazing people at a very special org in Khan Market, called Manzil.We met up with some of the folks from Manzil at Lodhi Gardens, where there was some beautiful old architecture and a picnic for special needs kids and kids from Manzil. Afterwards, Jimmy who is volunteering there took us to Manzil's Khan Market location where we cut used paper to be used as small flipbooks for the workshop. The idea was to use readily available, recycled materials to show the kids how to create animation in a way that they could continue long after I was gone, without materials they did not have access to.There were many things going on that day, and so our first round was with some adult volunteers including Ravi's mom and his sister Sonia. That worked well as a testing ground, before the children arrived later on. There were a lot of wonderful animations created that day by children and adults.We took a break in between and shared some singing and dancing. There's a lot of warmth and love there from Ravi (who was at a conference but joined us afterwards), his mother and sister Sonia (founders of Manzil), Shalu who shared dance and insights and to all the people who teach there and the children who come there (whose parents work for richer families in the neighborhood).Afterwards, a group of kids and young adults joined me for a session on filmmaking where I shared my short film Gul. It was fun to introduce the piece and the wonderful Sindhi music from Pakistan. The discussion afterwards was a lot of fun and I felt humbled at the appreciation and even more so at the amount of thought that people put into expressing their interpretations of the film. This after all was my wish with the piece, so it was a lot of fun.It's amazing to share the joy of animation through the medium of flipbooks which is accessible to all. Thanks to Jimmy and everyone else for helping to make this first effort a success! It was really great to share art, laughter and some great food with my new friends in Delhi.

Delhi, Nizamuddin Auliya's Dargah

So, I arrived in Delhi, tired, but happy. I went to Nizamuddin Auliya's and Amir Khusro's tombs. These are two amazing figures in the history of North Indian Classical music, Qawwali and various other forms of music.These were two important figures in the Chisti Sufi Order who are remembered not only for their musical contributions, but by people of all faiths in India for their life long efforts to bring people together.

Moving on out

So, I moved out of my apartment in LA and took to the road...er air. I'll continue doing freelance work as I travel. It has been a crazy busy month with the Montezuma Film Festival, CTN Expo, moving out and prepping for India, but well worth it.

Alvaro and Michael

We made some great friends name Alvaro (from Spain) and Michael (from France) at the guest house then head out to check out some of the amazing galleries. I took photos where I could. There was an impressive variety of inspiring art. It felt good to take things a bit easier after all the nonstop travel.

Chor Bakar

We walked over to a sort of Bokhari museum, then through an amusement park, looked at the remains of the city walls and then grabbed a bus to Chor Bakar where 4 descendents of Hazrat Abu Bakar are buried. The book mistakenly says that it is Hazrat Abu Bakar himself buried there, but in reality it is 4 of his descendents. There was beautiful tilework and a mosque there besides the graves.

Mubinjan

The next day we put on a short performance for the people at the guesthouse. We had a great time with the owner and her family, eating and talking the night before and they had requested that we play some for the owner's sister's birthday. We gladly did so, after a nice breakfast and then hopped on a train to Bukhara. It was still not too late once we got to Bukhara, so we found a place to stay in a simple, but beautiful old home owned by an old man named Mubinjan. We met some of the other guests and it turned out they were cooking Pilov together that night with Mubinjan. They were all travellers from different countries as well. We were graciously invited. We had limited time there so we wanted to quickly head out to see the city, but decided that we would look for some good dessert to bring back.Omar and I left our things there and head out, walking through beautiful restored Zikr khanas, mosques, tombs, caravansaras etc, but all had been transformed into giftshops. So while the original purpose of these sites had been lost, they did manage to keep the high caliber of workmanship and crafts alive through these shops. There were beautiful handicrafts, pottery, puppets, paintings, calligraphy, woodwork etc. It was all really amazing and of a very high quality. These may have been souvenir shops, but the crafts they sold were not junk like I had seen in some places. It was actually a lot of fun to look at all the beautiful work that people had on display. Besides that, we were walking through all kinds of beautiful architecture. Most of the sites in Bukhara were closer together and very near where we were staying, so we managed to see a good majority of it before making a last ditch effort to find some dessert to take back, having failed to find any traditional sweets. We walked around looking for halwa or baklava for quite a while, following all kinds of directions until we were led to a home where we met a family who were really excited to have us read the script written on a tape of a famous Afghan musician, which we did. They offered to make us halwa the next day, but there was nothing today, so instead their son showed us the way to a general store where we could buy chocolate cake.There, Omar and I bought a tray of assorted chocolate cake slices and walked back to the guest house. Everyone else had eaten and was sitting around enjoying some conversation by the time we returned. We presented the cake, and it was put to one side as they made room for a spread of food for us. The pilov was delicious. Lamb, rice, carrots, cooked to where each morsel of rice was rich with flavor. There were backpackers from France, Russia, Italy etc all sitting around a table talking and laughing and enjoying the very charismatic Mubinjan's stories as translated by Sergei, who was from Russia. Mubinjan did not speak English, but he knew a handful of words and used so much expression, body language and sounds to tell stories that captivated us all. There was a real sense that the coming together of this group of people was a special and sweet occasion. This was not a man out to make as much money as possible. He enjoyed being around giving people and enjoyed giving to all of us as well. Our experiences at other hostels or guest houses varied. There were places we made friends and places we did not, but none was like this where the owner and all the guests sat together in such warmth. I felt like we were really a part of something rare and special even for that place and it seemed everyone else did too.We talked and laughed late into the night, before everyone turned in.

Bukhari, Gulmeera and the kids

The next day, Omar and I decided to head outside of town to the tomb of Ismail Bukhari; a well known Muslim scholar credited with the most reliable compilation of the Prophet Muhammad's sayings and examples from his life (hadith).

The guide book got us to the general area where we were supposed to get a bus to the tomb. Once there it took a bit of asking and waiting and some false leads, before a very helpful boy at a general store in the area made it his purpose to get us a fair price on a minibus (mashrutka) headed to our destination. Omar and I were very grateful for the help. At last we were on our way.In front of us sat a woman with two small children. We didn't have a common language, but somehow we all became friends. She told us about how she was also going to the tomb to pray for her son who I believe had health issues while growing up. He seemed fine now, but she was going to make a prayer for his health. We all got off at the same stop, outside the tomb. The woman's name was Gul Meera and she was only a year older than me, with her sons Islam and Ismail. She had so much personality and she was so much fun, joking with us and really just willing to put in the effort to communicate with the two of us who did not speak her language. I decided in my mind that I wanted to see the tomb, but I wanted to do so with our new friends.

We walked in and had our photo taken by a guy in the courtyard. We would pick up prints later. After that, Omar asked where we could perform wadu (washing before prayer). We head over there, with Gulmeera and the kids in tow. They waited while we prepared for Namaz (prayer). Omar and I finally came out and all of us walked over to the mosque in the complex. Gulmeera held on to the little one, while Islam, Omar and I went in to pray. We stood side by side and prayed. I could see Islam out of the corner of my eye copying us, but not knowing how to say Muslim prayers. Gulmeera had mentioned that she had learned to read some Arabic when she was very young, but did not really know how to all that much. She was like many who identified very closely to Islam, but did not really know the rituals and practices, due to years under Soviet rule when all of that was forced underground and taken from people.

Omar went on to pray with the jamaat (group prayer) as it started and I stuck around with Islam and had him repeat a surat (passage from the Quran) after me. Then I taught him a few simple things and prayed some more with him following. My point wasn't to teach him religion, but just seeing him trying to participate, I wanted to take some time out and help him participate. That made it fun for me too, just so he need not feel like an outsider.

He was a really nice kid. Again, we had no common language, but gestures and a few words and sounds seemed to work well enough. He too was very patient and just a really nice kid, so it felt good to try and share something with him.

Afterwards, the three of us stepped out into the courtyard and continued around it with Gulmeera and tiny tot Ismail. He looked very serious, but was just about the cutest kid ever.

We walked around, admiring how beautiful the tile work and architecture was. Ismail Bukhari's mazaar had a very different feel than the former mosques and former places of Islamic learning that were now just empty tourist sites. This was a place still serving its intended purpose. People still remembered this man and came to pay their respects and say prayers. All of that made for a much more beautiful experience.

The work around the tomb itself was particularly stunning. After walking all the way around, we walked through a museuem of Qurans and gifts from visiting dignitaries. Gulmeera and I read some arabic together. She smiled a lot and it really felt to me like I was hanging out with a sister and nephews rather than some strangers. The kids were very sweet and we took turns holding a bag, and keeping our water bottles etc in it as I would with someone I had known for years or my own family.

We got the prints from the photographer and then walked out to catch the bus.

Gulmeera invited us to eat lunch at her home and I was very tempted, just to spend more time with these wonderful people. We also wanted to see some other important sites though, and we were limited on time, so we told her we wanted to go to the Prophet Daniel's tomb also. A part of me hesitated, because I knew it would be an ordeal to figure out how to get to it, but when else would I be there. Gulmeera just smiled and said sure, we'll go there too. She negotiated with the bus driver to take us there once the other passengers had left.

We went there, walked up the hill and spent some time in the tomb, drank some holy water and just enjoyed being there. Legend has it that the Prophet's body grows every year and so they enlarge the tomb every so often. Afterwards we head to a bazaar, and walked around until we found a spot to eat. We walked around some neighborhoods looking for the Jewish quarter, happened upon some interesting buildings that may have been a part of it and then walked back to the bazaar. The whole time, Gulmeera and the kids were happily along for the adventure. Islam was borrowing my camera and taking photos, I was hangin' with Ismail and it was some of the most fun I had on the trip.

Back in the bazaar we walked around and found a place to eat. We played some music, ate some food, laughed, ate some more and then walked outside where we soon parted ways, all of us a bit sad at leaving.

Omar and I made our way back to the art place where we had met some painters the day before. We had promised to try and return with some music and I was supposed to check out one budding animaters drawings. So we came in with Omar's drumb, got some people out, including many passerbyes and played some songs. I met up with the boy and he gave me a photocopy with a bunch of drawings. He was obviously talented and it was fun to see his work.

From there we head back to the guest house where we played music some more for the owner and her family before going to bed.

Samarkand

The next morning, we said goodbye to Simone and head to the train station to go to Samarkand. We met a guy while we were waiting, who kept miming that he had been electrocuted and was crazy, but was very happy that we were Muslims. That was fun, if a bit odd. The train itself was pretty good compared to a lot of transportation we have used on this trip. It was easy enough to get to Samarkand. Once at the station we hopped in a taxi and made our way to a beautiful guesthouse called Antika. There was a large open courtyard with grapes, apples and other fruit growing on a canopy over some tables. We dropped our things off and head out to get some more cash. Walking around, the city had a different feel than Tashkent. Just down the lane from the guest house was an amazing mausoleum and plenty of restored historical buildings. It was great to see that the buildings are restored, but mostly they no longer serve the intended purpose. In that way there is a disconnect between people and history. It's sad to see at times, but it is amazing to see the crafts and arts kept alive. The quality of wood work, tiles, architecture, miniature paintings etc. Uzbekistan has so many souvenir shops, many in these amazing historical buildings, but the good part of it is the quality of items sold there.After much wandering and getting lost, we made our way home and got some sleep.

Yongiabad Bazaar

 

 

The next day we decided to head out to a flea market called Yongiabad Bazaar with a friend we made at the hostel from Switzerland, named Simone. He'd been traveling for a while and was in the final days of the current trip also. We grabbed a bus to a tram to some walking, to some confusion, to another bus and finally reached the market. We were first greeted by some friendly militsiya (police) who introduced us to some more militsiya. They took a while, and we asked if there was a problem and they realized there was not and let us move on. The market itself was full of all kinds of..well junk and a few other things here and there. Machine parts, clothes, animals, books, old cameras, decorations and all kinds of random second hand stuff. We explored for a while, before heading across town to Khost Imom, where there is a mosque called Telyashayakh Mosque, and the Moyie Mubarek Library Museum (housing one of the oldest Qurans in the world). The architecture around there was amazing, but it was all empty. A guard said he would let us in to see the Quran in the museum, but demanded a bunch of money for it. They even called some kind of caretaker there, who offered to take us, but wanted a bunch of money. We agreed to pay them if there was a physical ticket. There was none, so we walked out. There was a mausoleum in the back that still seemed to be used for the intended purpose. After looking around a bit more walked down to Chorsu Bazaar and grabbed some food. There was an upper, open level in a building at the bazaar with all kinds of food vendors. One area in it was an open room with tables, and outside it there was a man grilling shashlyk. We picked up some vegetables to go with the shashlyk and asked if he could grill them. He could not. So I went inside the dining area, asked for a knife and started chopping vegetables. A lady who worked there saw this and offered to chop them for me.

Simone and Omar returned with some soda and nan. The lady returned with a beautifully chopped and seasoned salad. After lunch we walked down the street to a fast food place to just sit and drink some coffee etc. The place was like a nicer version of an American fast food place. From there we caught the metro, with Simone leaving for a Central Asian film festival and Omar and I heading back to the guest house. We got back and hung out downstairs, playing some music and talking to the security guy named Alex and another traveller named Murat. We didn't share much language between us, but it was pretty amazing to watch Omar tirelessly communicate until after a few songs they themselves were making huge efforts to explain simple things across the language barrier. I was tired and mostly just sat back and watched as Omar learned some more words to a Russian song his friend Constantine used to play.

It was really interesting watching Murat and Alex go from being very quiet, to gesturing and using bits of words to explain the deeper meaning of the song and its pronounciation and how it was sang.

A few hours later Simone returned and told us about his experience at the festival. First he had to convince the ticket seller that this film existed. Then he got the ticket and had to convince the theatre person that it existed, before finally being led to an empty theatre. He convinced the projectionist that yes he did want to see the film even though he was the only one there and that though he did not understand the language he still wanted to watch. Half an hour through the film, the projectionist came down to see if Simone was still awake and asked if he really wanted to watch the whole thing. Simone did, but the rickety dvd started skipping and after many failed attempts he had to stop without ever finding out how this coming of age Soviet era story ended. He told us that the projectionist was a strong communist supporter, who had been in that job for over 30 years. He walked Simone to the metro, giving him advice on where he should go and what not to miss in Tashkent. After all that bizarreness it was time to sleep.

Tashkent Day 2

So we went out again, finally got a little cash, ate some food at last (thankful for the complimentary breakfast at the hostel) and all of that in a day. We had a longer meeting with our friends in the metro as well as many other chats along the way. In fact, by the time we were riding back towards the hostel, we actually recognized some of the new friends in uniform we had met during the day. We went to an internet cafe and then decided to call it a day, early around 7pm, because it gets a bit tiring being always being careful not to photograph any kind of security buildings..especially when you don't read Russian. That's why there aren't that many pictures.

How do I get cash in Tashkent?!

Andy, Omar and I grabbed some food, while Mike stayed to let us back in. We shared a final breakfast together at Andy's friend's kitchen table before Omar and I jumped in a taxi and head to the airport. I packed away my camera stuff because of all the strict regulations and not wanting any trouble. We got there early, hung out for a while, then flew out on a quick hour long flight to Tashkent. Once in the country, we saw many Pakistanis at the airport, arriving on a flight from Lahore. Once through customs, we hopped in a cab after negotiating a price. The guy thought it was funny to try and double it on the way. I opened the door and threatened to get out, and he quietened a little. We got to the place and he did try one final time to squeeze some extra money out of us. I just handed him what we had agreed and left it at that.

The hostel owner greeted Omar and I with some Urdu. Unfortunately, after the usual Muslim jokes, all he could muster was a lot of cursing, asking if we wanted to do all kinds of idiotic things that we had no interest in as some kind of a joke. It is a pleasure to be looked down upon for your race and the unfounded (as in equally applicable to anyone else) prejudices linked by people to it. Even better to hear all kinds of dirty talk from some old drunk guy with a daughter and wife who should know better. Luckily, the place was comfortable, clean and cheap. On top of that the wife and daughter are very nice and seem to run the place, while the guy just sits around with his old buddies getting drunk all day. All in all, one of the better places we have stayed at.

From there we set out to find an ATM. 8 hours of walking from one to the next and finding them all empty all over town, exhausted us physically and mentally. The saving grace was the kindness of people. Seriously, we have met so many wonderful people on this trip, but the way people tried to help us out here in Tashkent is really amazing. For every annoying jerk we meet, there are tons more warm people who go out of their way to help us, and that I think is the lesson to learn from.

I had limited cash that I exchanged from the airport, but didn't want to run out, so we just walked and walked. Along the way, we met bank staff who called around to help point the way. This is apparently a big problem in Uzbekistan. The currency is valued at about 1,329 Uzbek Som to 1 US dollar, so people have wads of cash, but very little money. That and the fact that atms are almost immediatly emptied makes it very hard to get cash.

At one bank, we met a wonderful lady who walked us up to an office where we met a kind man who had learned English as he said from John Lennon and Mick Jagger. I knew he was cool even before he handed us cookies when we asked for a business card and he had run out.

It is a treat to meet such great people, with so much charm and charisma. Even though we felt miserable, hungry and exhausted at trying so hard to find cash and failing, the city is beautiful with mosaics along the sides of buildings, and amazing architecture all over and more kindness from everyday people than we have run across before, and most of the other cities were very generous and kind also.

The metros are absolutely amazing. Each terminal has a unique design. One had amazing paintings of cosmonauts and the space program. Others had beautiful tiles, or vaulted ceilings with flower designs, or sculptures in the walls etc.

Unfortunately we could not photograph any of these. Each metro station is a work of art.Along the way we were stopped for our papers many many many times, but at least they were friendly and polite. Still after a while it does make a person feel like some kind of criminal, and what felt like harmless looks by people before starts to feel less so. It's not a new situation, but it was fun in Xinjiang, China to not feel like that, at least part of the time we were there.

How to go from Bishkek to Tashkent

Happy Independence day Pakistan! So, what did I do to celebrate? Well...I got a mean headache, and felt real weak. I felt so exhausted, I could not even think about doing the drive from Bishkek to Osh, stay the night, then hire another car to the border of Uzbekistan and another on the opposite side to Tashkent. I felt like I had been on far too many rides, haggling and being cheated or worrying about what some jerk keeps in his car door or worse passenger door to make it look like it is ours or who decides to throw stuff through the window at night. So, Omar and I decided to just fly to Bishkek for about $150 more.

This is a vacation after all. We spent the day figuring out the logistics of all our travel plans, then bought or changed tickets. The four of us were exhausted as we shared a final dinner together on this trip at a place called NY Pizza. The pizza was very good and we were all grateful that we had each other to make this trip possible. I went to bed early that night.

Fun at the Osh Bazar

 

In the morning we got up and head down the street to a more modestly priced restaurant than we had seen before. It was upstairs and there was a recording of verses from the Quran being recited over the speakers (kirat). The place had a really calm and peaceful atmosphere. The family that ran it was very friendly. They led us to the kitchen and out back when we had trouble communicating ingredients for an omlette. The food was some of the best I have had in Kyrgyzstan. Afterwards, we head to an internet cafe where the guys had to tend to matters back home.

I uploaded some more blog stuff, then just hung out. Eventually Omar and I went to the Osh bazaar. It was okay, like many other bazaars we had seen, but the police were extra friendly. A pair of them called us over, then checked our documents, before introducing us to a group of their buddies working diligently on nothing to one side of the road, definitely not goofing off or anything. Likewise, we figured we should return the favor by going through all our belongings with them and then Omar stared at the mysteriously palmed 100 som note the one guy had held on to for safe keeping before he returned it. This happens all the time in Osh bazaar according to Lonely Planet. We expected it to occur far more often all over, but thankfully that was the only place and time during our stay in Kyrgyzstan.

After all that fun, we decided to walk back and wait for our other friends who aren't as polite about holding money for us. That evening we met up with some friends of Andy's who were very sweet to come hang out with us. We ate some delicious food together and called it a night.

Lake Issyk-Kol day 2

  

We woke up in the home that Gulbubu had found us a room in. The guys slowly got out of bed and we played some music for the family. The kids started dancing and it was a lot of fun just watching the funny things they did as we sang. Gulbubu kept explaining things to us in Russian and some of the grade school children who knew some English tried to translate bits of it. Either way, she had such a sweet and friendly laugh, like one of my aunts. She was so warm and sweet to us, that even after trying very hard to explain something to us, and then just receiving a blank look with no understanding from us, she would start laughing and try some more. It was a little sad saying goodbye to these sweet people, but I did record some video of something Gulbubu was trying to tell me. I'll try and find someone to translate it for me. Enjoy this video of our biggest fan, dancing away. Watch as her assistant comes in during the clip.

After that, we grabbed some food, played for the people in the restaurant then walked over to the beach and enjoyed a quick dip in the super cold water. The beach had some rides in an amusement park and typical fair type game stalls and food vendors. There was a weird pizza guy selling gross looking pizzas out of a box who didn't seem to take a hint or like it when I mimed that his pizza looked like barf. But he left eventually and so did we, catching a bus leaving for Bishkek. We played lots of music on the way back in the bus, and got here around evening. We head to the internet cafe, then barely made it back to the hostel for some beds that were not gauranteed. So plenty of stress later, we slept in our many times slept in by others beds, and enjoyed the sweet scent of stranger's sweat (one of many times) as we fell asleep.

off to Lake Issyk-Kol, Bollywood in Kyrgyzstan

The next morning we woke up, cleaned up a little and with the help of Andy's friend head over to the train station to get tickets to Lake Issyk-Kol. The lake is a scenic tourist spot, for locals as well as foreigners. After navigating several lines we were turned away to other lines, met a line cutter I dubbed "the Buzzard", then found out that the one and only train there was at 6am. Many friendly taxi drivers approached us repeatedly offering to drive us there for a princely sum. We declined, and one asked for Asel's phone number. I was sad that none of them took notice of me. We thanked Andy's friend Asel, and head over to grab a minibus (or as they call it, auctobus) to the bus station.Once there we got a price that seemed high, so we went the hostel we stayed at, a couple blocks from the bus station, sat down and played some music as we waited for a man there who offered a driver service. Twenty minutes, and twenty more minutes and then many more minutes later, we all ate, found out the bus was the better deal and head out to it once again. We had to wait for the bus to fill up with passengers before it would leave, so Andy and Omar decided to pull out their instruments and help the conductor get people on the bus. I joined after a while and we sang a whole bunch of songs and got a crowd around us. We even managed to make some ice cream money thanks to the generous donations of our audience into Omar's hat.Finally, after a very long time, we all boarded the bus, ice cream in our bellies and started down to the lake. I fell asleep, a bunch of times until we reached Bosteria, a popular section along the huge lake. We stepped out and there were people walking all over, returning from the beach, walking up and down the streets. We grabbed some food at a restaurant, found out the places to sleep on that section of the lake were very expensive, then started walking back to the main road to search for a better option.Along the way we saw an old man playing an accordian beautifully. We sat down and started playing music together. A crowd gathered, the sun started to go down, we had no place to sleep but we were having too much fun to care. He played a bunch of different songs, including an old Hindi movie song "Juta maira Japani, patloon hai Englistani, topi Turkistani par dil hai Hindustani." While we were playing we befriended a lady at a stall next door and some random drunk guy who kept trying to speak to us (like a small child speaking gibberish that sounds like sentences). We explained to the lady that we were looking for a place to sleep. She was really friendly and though we shared no common language, we started walking with her and so did the gibberish guy. She had really enjoyed a Junoon song we played called "Saeen". She turned out to be Muslim as well and as we walked we explained to her "Nyet Vodka" "Mussalman" etc and got away from the gibberish guy and ended up renting a room with her family for the night.

Al-Archa

 

 

We woke up and head out of the hostel to Andy's friend's place. She had very graciously offered to let us stay in her apartment. She seemed worried that the place would be too small, but I don't think she'd seen most of the places we have stayed at. Anyway, it always feels so much better to stay in a place where there is the warmth of friends. So we dropped our things off and head out to meet up with a few Turkish guy that Omar and Mike had met the previous day.Ali showed up at the bus station for us. He took us to a Turkish restaurant, and invited his friend Yusuf to join us. We ate some amazing Turkish food and got to know each other a bit better. We decided to go to Al-Archa where there was a beautiful canyon and river. It took us a while to figure it all out, but Ali was tired apparently from a long night of video games, so Yusuf who spoke English, joined us in a cab and the rest of us squeezed in the back seat. After about an hour or so we reached the outer gate and were convinced that we should walk the rest of the way.So, we started walking along a road for a bit, then Yusuf ran back to get the taxi to come take us the rest of the way. Reluctantly, the cab took us up to the river. We sat down next to it, relaxed and started playing some music. There was a Kyrgyz family having a picnic close by. The children came to check us out, then the grandfather came by and invited us to join them. We sat down at their picnic and they shared their food with us and we played more music. Some other people nearby came with cameras and there was a bit of a crowd there with young and old. It was so much fun playing for them. I don't really care much about singing for everyone in LA. I mean, it is fun, but I don't care for attention and there's shyness too when you're put on the spot in a group, but here with my friends playing music is a joy. Just like when I did it with friends back in high school, it was never about attention. To play music to people here is fun because there is a real sweetness that we share with people when we connect that way, across language and cultures. In many ways, to me it feels like we are saying thanks for being so nice or in other situations, just breaking down that barrier between being consumers on this trip and getting a bit more connected just as people.After a while, we parted ways, head back to the taxi and drove back to the Turkish restaurant. The cab guy wanted to charge us extra again, and we were all sick of getting overcharged by people, so we refused. We could tell that Yusuf was going to pay the guy to avoid any issues, and more than not wanting to pay the jerk, we didn't want Yusuf to pay him, so we paid the extra 100 som and walked back toward the restaurant. Omar and Andy sat down on the steps to play some music, Mike went off to use the restroom, and I walked down a couple stores to get over that annoyance. As I was walking, I heard some men speaking in Urdu. I turned and saw a group of men sitting at a table in front of a burger joint. I introduced myself and asked if they were from Pakistan. They were and invited me to sit with them. A few moments later so ice cream was brought out and I was offered one. I wasn't about to leave after that. I explained that the music they heard in the distance was from my other friends. We talked a bit and I shared some stories from our travels and they shared their stories as well. One man was visiting and the others all worked in Bishkek for a number of years. The ice cream was great and so was the company. Omar, Andy and Mike came looking for me and found me there at the table. The too were invited to join. So we put some tables together and sat down. They even placed an order at the Pakistani owned fast food place which does not serve Pakistani food, for some Pakistani food. Apparently the group hangs our there every day and they have the restaurant cook up some Pakistani dishes for them. Usually on this day they go out for a hike, but as our luck would have it, they didn't go today and so we were lucky enough to meet them.We sat for hours talking, playing songs, then eating, and talking and singing some more. Another wonderful experience with music.Afterwards, we head back to Andy's friend's place, gave her a run down of the day's adventures and went to sleep.

In Bishkek at last!

 

The next morning around 6:30am or 7am, we reach Bishkek and a hostel that had been recommended in Osh. It was very quiet and hardly any people were on the streets as we paid the driver the balance of what we owed and some money to help him with his windshield, not that it was our fault, but because it seemed like the right thing to do to Omar and I. We were all really annoyed by all that had happened, and just glad to be there at last. It felt like we had gone from misery at travel the night before, to really enjoying the day in Osh, to more miserable travel at the last night getting from Osh to Bishkek.The hostel was a house with some tents and yurts in the backyard. The staff was busily preparing food for the wedding of the two owners which was taking place that evening. We got information to take Andy to the hospital, and planned to but he decided not to at this time. Again some guy tried to tell us that we should have jumped out of the car and beat the guy up. He told us about a fight he had got into with some guy who said something to him while he was walking down the street and then a photo of a huge gash he got in his head as a result as proof of why we should have gotten into a fight. While his reasoning seemed sound, we decided his advice probably wasn't worth taking. There are a lot of macho jack asses in the world who put ego before the safety of those around them as well as their own well being. Mike, Andy, Omar and I grabbed some breakfast, then Mike and Andy returned to the hostel for some sleep. Andy and I decided to check out the town and sleep at night instead. We walked around, checked out a mosque, made our way toward the center of the city, and met of with a friend of Andy's from Kyrgyzstan. She took us around to a museuem of Soviet history, with statues of Lenin and many major occurences during his time. It was all pretty sad, until we got to the top floor that was focused on Kyrgyz cultre which was similar to Mongolia and very beautiful. The people at the stores on the first floor were really nice. One lady had me sit down once she learned I was an artist and asked me to make something on a piece of cloth. I drew some flowers on it and signed and gave it to her.We checked out some art in a park just before that also, and walked around an amusement park, ate some good food, then parted ways and returned to the hostel.I finally took a shower, and sat for a bit as we waited for Mike and Omar who had gone out while we were away, to return. They came back and we met up with Andy's friend and another friend of hers again for some dinner. She and her friend were so kind to us, that it really made us feel at home. For all the rough travel and some negative experience during the trip, it is all these beautiful places and even more important the kind people we meet along the way that makes it all worth while.After dinner we grabbed a taxi back to the hostel and got some sleep.