Bananas Don't Travel Well

Smoker at the bus stationContinuing with our plan to freeze in the mountains we decided to head east to the city of Karakol. It would be our base to do some trekking in the Tian Shan mountains. The route from Kochkor to Karakol is about 400 km and can run around either the northern or southern coasts of Lake Issyk Kul. We decided to take the southern road because it was written up in our guide as more scenic, and break the trip about halfway in the town of Bokonbayevo where we would arrange a home stay through the local CBT office.

The first leg of the trip was between the towns of Kochkor and Balykchy. This was by shared taxi. In Kyrgyzstan these are almost exclusively old luxury cars from the '90s: Audis, BMWs and Mercedes. Though this may sound luxurious and comfortable these cars have been put through the wringer by the time they arrive in Kyrgyzstan and the only luxurious quality that remains is the brand name and (sometimes) the paint job. The drive was an hour-long decent from the high mountain pastures (jailoos) past herds of horses, sheep and goats to the bus station in the lakeside town of Balykchy.

At Balykchy the sky was the same concrete grey as the bus station. It was Sunday and there wasn't much going on when we arrived at 10am. The clapboard manty (dumpling) stalls were just lighting their fires. It was cold, and the wind was biting. Still, it was far better to sit in the parking lot than to wait in the marshutka for it to fill up. It took about and hour, but once filled, it lurched out of the parking lot. Overloaded with passengers, the marshutka was struggling: we could feel it accelerating and decelerating as it descended and climbed the contours of the winding coastal road. We had seats near the front so the crowding wasn't too uncomfortable, and the country scenery outside was pretty: rolling foothills covered with pasture on the right, and the mountain lake Issy Kul with the sun glittering off the waves on the left. Three and a half hours later we arrived in Bokonbayevo.

Bokonbayevo is a small town oriented east-west along the main road we arrived on. Finding the CBT office was our first task, and locating it turned out to be impossible. After failing at task one, we settled on having lunch as our second task. We found a cheery and clean-looking cafe and sat down. The waiter was helpful and tried to find the CBT office for us while we ate, but he too was unsuccessful. The food was grey and greasy but we ate it anyway. Fortified, we continued our search for the local CBT office and finally found it, closed for the season.

Having seen enough of Bokonbayevo, and figuring we had covered more than half the distance we decided to push on to Karakol. Lunch was starting to work on Nicole in a bad way, but hoping this would pass we pushed and shoved a little and got spots in the next marshutka. Somehow this one was slower than the first. It stopped more frequently to let people off and on. It was crowded, hot, and worst of all: the windows wouldn't open. Lunch really wasn't sitting well with Nicole by now and her condition was starting to deteriorate. After a couple of hours we were able to arrange seats next to each other. By this time she was ready to explode: she had cold sweats, and was resting her head against the seat-back in front of her. I figured that were about an hour away from Karakol and that she could make it without shitting her pants; she wasn't so sure.

busy KarakolAn hour later I was getting restless. Nicole was incoherent. We were still in the countryside, the locals were getting restless, it was boiling hot and we kept stopping so the driver could check that the back door was still closed, and to let people on and off. It had been four hours since Bokonbayevo everybody was getting tense. The driver pulled over to have a smoke and chat with a friend, and the thirty-odd people in the marshutka glared out the window at them, collectively willing the guy to get back to work and drive. After a very long cigarette we finally trundled on.

It was 8:30 when we passed the Karakol city limits and were pulled over by the cops. After a brief chat the driver started up again and 30 minutes later we were finally out of the van in downtown Karakol. Nicole raced off to find a bathroom, it was cold, damp and windy. I couldn't orient myself on the map, and had no idea where we were in relation to any of the hotels in town. When Nicole returned we hopped into a taxi and paid 50 soms (about $1.50) to be driven 100m to a hotel I thought was much further away. The staff at the Russian-run Neofit Guesthouse were rude and sullen, and wanted extra money for the shower. I returned their attitude in kind and got the shower key for free.

Smell like a gangstaa: some of the fine wares from the Karakol shopping centerWith a hospital, university and department store, Karakol is a raging metropolis compared to Bokonbayevo or Kochkor. Its wide quiet side streets are lined with old wooden "gingerbread" cottages overhung by birch, willow and poplar trees. In the glory days of the USSR it was major naval weapons development center, with the ordinance tested in Lake Issy Kul. When the USSR disintegrated the Kyrgyz government refused to cut a deal with the Russians to allow the testing to continue, though a large community of Russian civilians remain.

The next morning, feeling nearly revitalized from the night's sleep we set out to find the CBT office. We knew it would be still open as it is the biggest in Kyrgyzstan. When we arrived we met Kay, a helpful Peace Core worker, behind the counter. She was very funny and after 14 months in-country had had enough and was looking forward to her holiday back in the States. She explained that Kyrgyzstan is a hotbed of extreme moderate Islam. Most Kyrgyz will self identify as Islamic, but very few will go to mosque on Friday, give up drinking, or pray (definitely not 5 times per day). All across Kyrgyzstan mosques built by Saudi missionaries that go empty on Fridays.

Nicole and GulnaraKay hooked us up with a very pleasant home stay. Gulnara, a shrewd business woman, not only had her guest house listed with the CBT, but had won the Lonely Planet lottery: in 2004 and 2006 she got positive write-ups in the Central Asia guide. With her winnings she was able to build an entire second house for guests, and as it was late in the season we had it to ourselves. Dinner was homemade: vegetarian manty (dumplings), stuffed sweet peppers, and plov. She served us at 6:45 so she wouldn't miss her soap operas which started at 7. At night the local kids came singing door-to-door for money; they would do this every night for a lunar month. We liked it so much we stayed for a couple of nights so Nicole could get better. With a couple of nights of sleeping and eating well we were ready to head up into the mountains.