A Bowl of Vegetable Soup

I’ve been covering a LOT of distance the last few days, and in a sense, that’s very gratifying after my Bishkek vacay. I’m not entirely sure how to break it all up, wince I have stories form each day, so I’ll put it into smaller chunks, highlighting things worth mentioning, and maybe in a few days say something about the Pamir Highway in general.

From Bishkek to Osh with Meret.

Ever have one of those moments of complete silence with somebody you don’t know that well? Like your mutual friend leaves to go to the bathroom and the two of you are left just kinda..sitting there. You speak up…exchange an obligatory chuckle, then go silent till said mutual friend comes back. This was that…for 12 hours. But more on that in a quick sec… back to Bishkek…

So Tuesday I received my Uzbek visa from the consulate around 11am, which meant I was ready to head to Osh ASAP! This was the famed decision between flying (on hour) or mashrukta/shared taxi. It turns out the flight was actually kinda difficult to book, and they didn’t have a ticket for that day (or next morning) in my luggage weight class anyway (Pegasus air is kinda like Ryan air, so ya know, shoes cost extra, etc). Since it was the afternoon anyway, I figured I would go for the wheels route. The price difference between a shared taxi and marshrukta was small, so I went with the shared taxi for the comfort of a regular car seat (marshrukta seats are technically padded regular van seats, but they mostly remind me of those metal fold up chairs at school concerts). As my luck would have it again, not a lot of people were heading that way, so I ended up the only passenger in a VW station wagon FULL of stuff to be dropped off at various points a long the way. Passenger seat=winning.

As expected, my driver, Meret, didn’t speak any english, and my Russian/Kyrgyz only got us past pleasantries. We then communicated our ages, the fact that I’m single (big problem at my age in Kyrgyzstan), and he is married with 3 children. That was about 10 minutes into the drive. That’s when the “where’s our mutual friend” silence began. We made stops every 2 hours or so for food, tea, toilet, or to drop some random package off to somebody. Needless to say, I didn’t get a terrible amount of sleep. The good part, however, was that we arrived in Osh about 9 in the morning, which is a lot better than like…3am or something. Meret dropped me off at the hostel I booked for no extra charge, and we said our goodbyes. So glad to be at a hostel where I can refresh, right?

Not quite. This particular hostel (booked on hostel world, too!) was a bit rough around the edges…also on the insides. Unfortunately due to the rain the previous night, they had no running water. I was bummed out since it had actually been a while since I showered (we’re talking before Altyn Arashan and the van-tank…). Looks like I would have to hold off a bit more. So I rested for a couple hours, then hit up the city of Osh.

I’m not sure what I was expecting from Osh, but this was slightly below whatever that was. Perhaps the hype of the city’s history and it’s relatively large size works it up to be about what Bishkek is. But it’s certainly a less developed city, and much more drab. Regardless, there were some neat things to see. I walked down to the Osh Bazaar, considered one of the oldest bazaars in the entire region, which, is fair to say one of the oldest in the world. Osh was an important stop over on the ancient silk road route, trading goods from what was to become China and the western world. So to think of the fact that I was bartering (ok not really cause their prices were really good actually) and buying goods in the same city as they were thousands of years ago. That’s a neat thought. After the bazaar, I walked up Sulaiman Too, essentially the rock of gibraltar of Osh. I spent a while relaxing up there and just enjoying the city view and the fresh air.

A Bowl Of Soup

Back to the hostel, where uneasy going Australian (is there any other kind?) named Callum was making some vegetable soup. Since I wasn’t able to talk to Meret very much, Callum got hit with all the conversation I stored up. He was kind enough to let me help myself too, and over the soup we sat for a long time and had a long talk.

You see, he’s been traveling for 18 months from Sidney and targeting Istanbul. I’ve met a lot of long-term travelers, people kinda floating through different nations, etc. But this guys is doing it all on his bicycle, and factually started in Sidney…crossed Australia through the outback to Darwin, up Indonesia, SE Asia, China…across China and Tibet…and is now here. Hats off to you mate, you win. But back to the soup- we talked about a great many things, but two things stick out as particularly relevant.

Firstly, was the idea of taking your time to look around. You can imagine you don’t have many other options when crossing half the globe on your bike. He mentioned how he’s had the chance to really stop and ponder the world around him. In a physical sense, there’s a chance to observe nature and things you’d otherwise miss, say a birds nest, or a tree (don’t laugh, Peter and I ended up doing a fair bit of bird watching in South Africa). And in another sense, perhaps this is just an important mindset he’s developed. Sure, every traveler has places they just need to move through quickly, but what an opportunity to see the world like he is seeing it. It goes without saying (but I’ll say it anyway), let’s not move too quickly through everything. Take time to appreciate where you live, the people in your life, and when traveling, the people around you in those places.

We then talked about some of the famous Anatrctica expeditions. Namely, the Robert Falcon Scott expedition- the one that failed miserably and everybody died ( I brought that up…), and that of Ernest Shackleton, where all his men lived..surviving imperceptibly small odds, existing on blubber and whatever else (he brought that one up…). Concerning men like Shackleton, we discussed the exceptional leadership quality he had. Namely, because he refused to show himself as disheartened. Anytime a problem arose, he immediately went to finding a solution instead of harping on the issue. His positivity, without a doubt, saved lives.

Without being too dramatic, this was one of the best vegetable soups I have had. Perhaps it was the fact I hadn’t eaten in a while, maybe it was something nostalgic, or maybe it was the company, as we sat slurping, dipping bread, and having a laugh over a whole range of subjects. Sometimes we meet people we just click with, and it’s a lot of fun, and honestly, meeting other travelers is one of the best part of traveling.

You see, when on the road, it is so easy to get down. It gets lonely, it gets difficult. I mean, I can barely order food since I can’t read the menu or speak enough of the language to differentiate between subtle words with drastic differences. It is simply difficult. But I find those who enjoy problem solving tend to have an easier time of traveling. I LOVE solving problems and figuring things out, and maybe that’s why travel is enjoyable to me. But I very often can feel down or frustrated, and I’ll have to remind myself that positivity goes a long, long way.

Thanks again mate for the bowl of soup, it fed more than just my stomach.

-BK

A Farmer, a Consultant, and the USA

Occasionally, when people find out I’m American, a political discussion ensues. I certainly don’t mind talking geopolitics, and going over the complexity of the whole thing. But usually I’m asked very pointed questions, questions I’m not entirely sure hoe to answer. I’m called on to answer on behalf of the United States, and sorry, I’m not secretary of state (yet…). To be specific, there are two conversations in particular that I thought highlighted some points we tend not to think about. Firstly, the financial aide given by America to developing nations, and secondly, how our involvement in development projects may be hindering more than helping. I apologize in advance for an overwhelming lack of knowledge on these topics, but I’ll highlight these conversations, and hear out what people said.

Valentine and the farmer.

You may remember Valentine from my adventure in Altyn Arashan. This hard-as-nails manly man had a few strong opinions regarding our involvement in global politics. We both agreed that the situation is complicated, and that our history with Russia could have gone over a little more smoothly (and still could be…). The example he cited was the following:

When we give aide to foreign projects, specifically food donations, we as Americans will give a lot of money to see that cause come to fruition (we agreed this is a good thing). When that food arrives in target country, we would expect that said food programs are put into place and people are fed. Ideally, this food would be donated, free of charge, to those in need. We were in agreement that many programs do this. However, from his experience on the distribution side of things in a past life, he stated that most programs will SELL that food at a highly discounted price. This gives slight profit margins (maybe not even profit, perhaps just covering some operating costs) to the program, and gives buyers a better deal. Now here’s where Valentine gets aggravated. Think of the farmer whose small crop yield took quite a lot of labor, who then brings it to market (often great distances at a cost to himself). He is selling at $10…while the US food program is selling at $5. You can see where an issue starts to arise. The farmer sells no product, and now has less to go into his crop yield later on. When this farmer gets bought out and cannot afford to sell anymore, a monopoly arises with the food aide program…who then start to sell at $10..$15. You can see where his frustration came from.

Shaktybek and a certain consulting company.

I met Shaktybek while in Karakol, and he was an absolute pleasure to get to know. His background is in telecommunications, and for years was involved in implementing the telecommunications infrastructure here in Kyrgyzstan, and eventually sat under the vice minister of the country. When politics became complicated (the most recent revolution, as it were), it was expected that Shaktybek would start taking bribes for himself and those above him (among other things), as the proletariat could become stronger. He couldn’t do it, and resigned his position. He then entered international consulting, living in London, Switzerland, and the US for some time. He did this in the telecommunications field at first, and then found himself working on a development project at home in Kyrgyzstan. It was through this project that he transitioned into becoming heavily involved in Kyrgyz development projects. Though we talked for hours about many issues, this one frustrated him the most:

He was incredibly excited when a project he was working on was approved for aide from the USA. He thought to himself “ah, the United States, now we will have the help we need”. We donated a sum of money, and instead of sending consultants directly (as he was used to doing in his prior experience), the US hired an outside consulting company, one with quite a famous international name. He was unused to the idea of a third party, but was still excited because of the name of this company. They sent somebody to Karakol to head up the project, and to meet with Shaktybek, the local point man. As he began talking with this consultant, he learned that they had almost zero experience whatsoever. Not only regarding the project they were accomplishing (something about tourism and a cheese factory), but almost no experience….at all. He continued to give two additional examples of almost the same thing happening; You can imagine how disheartened he was to learn that with the USA at the helm, hiring a well known consulting company, the nation of Kyrgyzstan took a back seat.

It was this last though that struck me. Sure, every international consultant may start somewhere with no experience, but you wouldn’t expect it from such a large company. However, it was this idea that Shaktybek felt that his country is not taken seriously as a nation to be invested in. He explained to me their vast natural resources (which, recently, a mining contract was turned down by the USA…), their desire for democracy and education, and to be considered globally minded. He passively mentioned that most global councils have yet to add the Kyrgyz language to their texts.

So what am I trying to get at here? I know far too little about the details of food programs, government aide, geopolitics or consulting, to state whether things are true, how complex they are (and I’m sure they are very complex), and what goes on in the background. But that’s not my point.

My point is that people see what we do in a very different light than what we think. We watch a moving film on Sunday, and pour our money into companies, programs, and websites. A few people even work abroad, and yet sometimes, it’s not being done in the right way. The perspective of what we do is undermined, and perhaps with due cause to think so.

So like…do I have a solution for the entire development project side of the US government? Haha…no. But I think it’s good to have these conversations and to think about things. Valentine and I applauded US companies that stimulate local economies by doing things such as digging wells, irrigation systems, giving farming tools, seeds, and business micro-loans. Shaktybek and I were happy to talk about the success of many projects done by various US companies who found the right people for the job to develop a clear strategy, set up the right people, and follow through with the plan. There were still positive sides to these conversations.

And I think this matters. I think it matters how people view us. I think it’s a matter of fact that our actions, as a nation, have weight (amongst every other nation!). We have a reputation of being able to help, and we should guard that reputation by appropriate actions to see that help go through.

I guess the take home is that if you want to give money to a program, give time in an office, or even go abroad and work, to do your research and ask a lot of questions as to implementation. More than that though, don’t forget that we’re living in a truly global time, and that each place has something to bring to the table. Nobody deserves a back seat, or to be forgotten or thought lesser of.

A final note- I’m sure many of those reading have positive examples, and I’m glad of that. A few of you will want to do a fact-check rant, I’m not looking for an argument. I’m just hoping to bring to light some interesting conversations I had with real people on the ground, highlighting some areas to work on. I hope this all stimulates and inspires you to follow through and be excellent in whatever you’re doing. Thanks for reading!

-BK

Central Asia: Karakol, The worst road, and a guy named “Bob”.

High up in the mountains outside of Karakol, Kyrgyzstan, via a nearly inaccessible road, I had reached Altyn Arashan. Here I sat, completely naked, and completely silent, in a natural hot spring with a man whose name had an impossible combination of “v”s and “ch”s, whom we agreed to call “Bob”. Occasionally we hit the pause button and realize we are in a unique moment in time, and this was no exception. But before I come back to this, this story starts back in Bishkek a couple days ago.

Having received 2 of 3 visas in Bishkek, and the third awaiting my call the following Monday morning, I had time to get out of Bishkek for a few days, and there was no better place than Karakol. This sleepy little town is renowned for its outdoor scene, and tends to have a “must not miss” reputation around the traveler’s hub. It’s 6.5 hours from Bishkek to Karakol, and along the way it was nice to see some mountain scenery, fresh air, and the stunning lake Issyk-Köl (I posted some pics already!). Once I got there I walked to my hostel, a very clean and spacious property with an owner who speaks near perfect English (so nice!).

The next day I headed to Jetti-Ogüz. A combination of mashrukta (a sort of public bus system- think a dodge sprinter packed wth people getting on and off, paying about 50 cents a ride), hitch hiking, and taxi got me to the small outpost in the mountains south of Jetti-Ogüz proper. About and hour worth of traveling outside Karakol. Though the hiking trails weren’t marked, and I was fairly confused where to go, I simply hiked up the nearby hill as far as I could and was rewarded with some pretty incredible views of mountain peaks, horses at pasture, and the famed “seven bulls” sandstone formations looming over the valley. I’d say it was worth the wiggling to get here.

I relaxed back at the hostel, and had some very in-depth discussions with our hostel owner about development projects in Kyrgyzstan, as well as the developing world at large. He has a long history working as an international consultant in his past life, and has transitioned into humanitarian work here at home, and is incredibly involved with excellent perspective and ideas. I hope to make a separate post talking about his thoughts, as well as some others conversations I’ve had along these same lines. But back to our story- he suggested some other things I should do: including the Sunday morning animal market (largest in central Asia, and Altyn Arashan, THE must not miss destination).

Up at 6:30 am, the animal market was a real hoot. It’s just what it sound like- a massive bazaar vibe, all centre around selling animals. Lots of yelling, laughing, animal noises, and stall-food (omgyessss). It was a lot of fun for me to roam around, and was requested to take pictures of people and their animals almost every 5 minutes. Every photographers dream! Then came some decisions about Altyn Arashan; you see, it’s about an 8 hour hike there, followed by sleeping in the valley, then about 4-5 hours hike back. Not for the faint of heart, or those with 4 very painful, irritating blisters on their feet (hey, that’s me). But, I figured, I probably shouldn’t miss this, and I’d have to deal with the pain anyway. So I took the mashrukta to the trailhead, and started walking.

About 30 minutes into the hike, I heard the sound of an engine…to be specific…the engine of an old, war-hardedend russian van-tank (at which point a van turns into an indestructible off-road vehicle, I’m not sure, but this piece of machinery was flirting the line). I waved them down, and as my luck would have it, it was the owner of Yak tours (one of the hostels in the valley) and his driver coming back from a supply run. This is incredibly rare, and I was pretty excited to hop on in. And we started our ascent.

Valentine and the van-tank

I can’t properly describe the condition of this “road”. I think hiking it by foot would be difficult, and never in my most daring assumptions would I call it a road meant to be traversed by vehicles. 50% mud, 80% boulder, and 100% fury (here’s to you Furiosa), this is by far the worst piece of socially acceptable vehicle routes I’ve ever encountered. My respect for the vehicle and it’s driver are as high as the risk of being crushed by falling rocks- very high.

After about an hour and a half of rock-climbing-with-a-van, we crested the valley of Altyn-arashan, a steep, alpine valley with some serious mountain peaks in the distance. It was, to say the least, absolutely beautiful. Having ascended with these guys, I essentially signed up to stay with them, which is fine. Their “hostel” was a very simple adirondak-esque cabin, with few accouterments, and which hadn’t been cleaned in perhaps…ever. Valentine (pronounced “teen”, not “tine”) whipped up some vegetable stew, and we shared a lunch together.

It was after this lunch that he suggested I check out the hot springs. So the van-tank driver and I walked over to the hot spring, which consisted of a shed with an actually really well developed little pool feel to it. I figured I’d introduce myself to the monster-truck driver, and we settled on “Bob”. Then Bob stripped naked and got in. I had a decision to make here. Would I go ahead and do the I’ll-stay-in-my-short-b/c-im-obvioulsy-uncomfortable….or…just cultural immersion. I chose the latter. And that brings us around to the the start of this story. Don’t you worry, Valentine joined about 10 minutes later.

Bob the van-tank driver and hot spring tour guide

Hot spring

The overnight was bone chilling, but luckily I had a rock hard bed to sleep on and a thin blanket to remind me that I love my down-jacket. Overnight, a hunter apparently dropped off some wild boar, which we ate as a stew in the morning, Valentine, Bob and I. The three amigos, knowing so much more about each other than a mere 12 hours ago. They had to run back to town for more supplies, so I was lucky again to hitch another spine-shattering ride down. All in all, very glad that I was luckily enough to catch the chance to see the valley, and now have a story I won’t be forgetting soon.

The road to Altyn Arashan

Altyn Arashan and the van-tank

Until next time, thanks for reading!

-BK

A Day in Almaty, Kazakhstan

I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I arrived in Almaty. I suppose I had an initial expectation that it would be rather challenging and difficult to navigate. I had read it’s recent history as a modern city, essentially the jewel city of Russia’s far reach in central Asia, and was pleasantly surprised to find a beautiful, bustling city complete with underground metro, all the nightlife and parks and shops that would stand to many European towns.

If that sounds a bit ignorant, perhaps it is. I think it’s normal to imagine a place as something, and when finding it better than expected, to be taken a bit off guard. All the reading and travel blogs can tell you one thing, but many ties I’ve read a place to be modern and up-and-coming, only to be sourly disappointed. So, the comments regarding Almaty are in now way to sound condescending, as if it shouldn’t be so, it simply surprised me.

Being 6:20 am, the train station had the normal army of taxi drivers awaiting us. I put up my defenses against the first wave, and waded through to the guys outside and a little further out. I widened up when trying to explain my destination, and just gave the phone number of my hostel to the taxi driver. He rang them up, figured it out, and we agreed on a price.

I stayed at Almaty Backpackers, and had an awesome morning. The night manager let me in and the staff made me breakfast, even though that wasn’t until about an hour and a half from now. The sun was shining, the tea was perfect, and my bread and porridge tasted so good after the meager salami sandwiches I had been having. There is nothing like a little sunshine and warm food to put you in a nice mood. Not to mention the mountain peaks were in clear view.

I was able to shower (good for everybody), and decided to go into town). I walked to the Central State Museum. This is basically a blend of a natural history museum focusing on the evolution of man, and a cultural museum focusing on how Kazakhstan came to be about; the exhibits shifted between the two subjects at first, until modern man was officially established, and from there the Kazakh history solely took over. There was English translations from start to about half way through the main exhibit hall, when they decided english wasn’t needed anymore (?). There were also som either exhibit halls, namely the Kazakhstan independence exhibit, showcasing Nazarbayev’s rise to power and how much he has helped the nation. All that to say: it’s a massive, great museum.

Then I took this little cable car to the top of a nearby hill looking over the city. Named “Kok-Tobe”, it’s a great attraction, complete with a little carnival at the top, complete with ferris wheel, bumper cars, and a zoo of sorts.

I was feeling pretty beat after the and decided to rest up at the hostel. I had a long cha with the day-manager, who has traveled extensively, and lived in the US for a while. It was nice to have long conversation in English, something that gets taken for granted so easily when on the road.

She bought up some interesting points I’ll share: There is a particular guidebook that is highly used amongst many travelers (it will remain unnamed, as this would apply to many guidebooks anyway). As the manager of a very good hostel, in a less than popular city, she expressed her frustration that so many travelers miss out on what the city has to offer, due to these guidebook. We arrive, see the same 5 things (of which, sitting in front of her, was completely guilty of), and then leave. Meanwhile, there is a heart of the city that she feel see are missing.

We have a great capacity to not veer away from the decided-upon path. We look up what to do, where to eat, where to sleep, and use that as framework for our experience. I don’t think this is entirely wrong to do, wince opoular things are opoular for good reason, and well-reviewed places are suggestions from fellow travelers. But I admit that this does tend to give us tunnel vision in our destinations.

Another thought is that of perspective and opinion. When we prescribe to an itinerary in any given place, we are prescribing to somebody else’s opinion of what is worth doing. Again, 1400 reviews of TripAdvisor is still 1400 people who say its great, and maybe that shouldn’t be ignored. However, what about all the places that haven’t been discovered yet? How will I know if it will align with my own interests? When we travel, we are traveling within our way of viewing the world. Sure, travel tends to broaden that view, but I still have tastes and preferences in what I enjoy, and my experience in a place will be determined by how well it lines up with those values.

This is where I think it’s best to use the guidebooks primarily for logistics- how do I get from A to B. Those are facts that can’t change to much and are very, very useful to have on hand. And then I would say to pursue any top things they suggest you can’t miss. But then I would look at why. Do those things sound like things I would like? Most importantly though, I would ask around. I asked my new friend what she likes, what she thinks is important in this city, etc. Of course, this is incurring her own tastes and interests, but its beyond the guidebook, and may more easily align with what I’m looking for.

And here is an important point I want to make: this whole travel thing is an exploration into not just how you will enjoy a new place within your own interests (cause it is important to have a good time), but how that new place can discover, in you, something new, maybe a new taste or preference. Who knows!

My conclusion? When you travel, make your attitude, expectations, and perspective the most important part of your trip. And sure, having so little time in Almaty (I had to get to Bishkek for some visa arrangements I had made), I feel terribly hypocritical in writing all this, but it’s something I’m learning still.

Oh and one last thing I did: A bath house. And for the record, this was both in a guidebook AND suggested by my hostel manger friend. The Almaty bath house is a massive,sex-separated, multi-bath complex, complete with several traditional baths: Finnish (think sauna), Turkish (think marble and LOTS of steam), Moroccan (think warm tiled rooms with not a lot of steam), and Russian (think hotter-the-fire, man in the corner shoveling fuel into an oven..and beating yourself with branches of various bushes and trees). IN addition to the showers for varying termparture between baths (and giant wooden buckets you would pull for a instal-freeze effect), there was a massive circular pool, under a gorgeous tiled dome. Oh....and all this entirely naked the whole time.

Not too bad for a day. After my insightful discussion, I really wish I had more time. Alas, there never seems to be tough time in a place, but we learn and move on. Bishkek is next, where I will await visas. Until next time!

-BK

Moscow, Alec, and Yaroslav

Early morning airport arrivals can be a bit of a hassle. My flight from London reached Moscow (DME) at a crisp 4:20 am. The initial concern a traveler has at this time is that any of the airport goodies you were hoping for, even if there, are now closed. No SIM cards. No information desk. Not even some guy trying to sell me a hotel. Just a few cabbies knowing they’re about to hit their payday. Oh well.

I’ve mentioned it before, but the journey from airport into town is one the biggest hurdles you’ve got to get across. I had two plans for DME- get a hold of my hostel, and they would arrange a fixed-price taxi for me, and let me know his number and car lot (this was agreed upon previously with hostel manager Yaroslav). Back up plan was public transport. I’d take the train into town, then the metro the rest of the way, and walk the final bit.

Well…DME wifi is a tease. It connects, but all servers down. It’s no-go. That’s pretty annoying. Well, so usually I get ahold of a SIM card (or even ask somebody to borrow their phone!) and call ahead. Cue the immense lack of humans in this airport at 4:30 am. It appears the pre-arranged taxi option was fading. So time for the train, right?

Not quite. The train is, for reasons unknown to everybody (even the couple NON taxi people) not working right now. It should be up and going “sometime today”. Hmm…ok. I guess it’s time for the taxi. Naturally everybody is quoting me fairly high prices to get into town (granted, it is pretty early, and that costs more everywhere, but at least I had a reference price. After much arguing with random taxi guys, in comes Alec the cabbie. He tells me that he’ll do my price of 1000. I confirm, he agrees. I confirm again “da, da”. Alrighty, let’s give this a whirl.

Alec is a short, thin, white haired guy, who speaks pretty good english. I had the chance to practice Russian with him a little bit, and my accent was just enough to get me into trouble making him think I speak Russian (Pimsleur tapes are really, really good, but more on that later). He was pleasant enough and we got along fine. The drive is smooth highway driving for most of it, then in Moscow proper we hit a random swath of traffic. Out of nowhere, Alec, this short, nice man, becomes irate and is quite literally shouting into his windshield. “7-8, is OK, but 5 and 30 o’clock, %*$*@!”. In one surpsrinigly quick sequence of arm movements, Alec slams the wheel and reaches for his phone. I’m expecting him to call his taxi company, or something, but within half a second….

He plays clash of clans. I don’t know why, but this entire last 10 seconds struck me as hilarious. It was so fast and deliberate, as if done daily. The traffic clears up and reveals the source: a road maintenance vehicle somehow had it’s drivers side tire almost bent in half, with no other vehicles damaged in sight- I literally have no clue how that could happen. Alec tells him off as we pass, and off we go. Here comes the fun part.

On arrival near my hostel, Alec explains that 1000 rubles was the cost to get into his cab, and now I have to pay for the trip. Hmm, well, I was half expecting this, but that’s a new one to me. I was pretty annoyed, and we commenced arguing over prices. 5000…1000…4500…1000…yelling in russian at me…ok 1200…40000…Niet…4000 or else…?... There was an exchange of angry hand motions that concerned me slightly and I started to understand I wasn’t getting out of here without giving him a decent price. We eventually settled on 2500…which is about $36 USD, which for about an hour long cab ride, isn’t too bad. Looking back, based on the interaction as a whole, I actually don’t view Alec as twisting anything- I think it was an actual mixup about how his cab worked. I left the cab frustrated, and feeling a little sorry for what ended up seeming like a genuine miscommunication between the two of us.

It’s funny how your first moments in a country will start to affect your outlook. There was a moment where I thought “God I hate Russia”, and I haven’t even been here 2 hours, or seen anything this beautiful city had to offer. But we all do it. We draw conclusions, we get angry and start thinking irrationally. Cue Yaroslav, the Faso Hostel manager.

A breath of fresh air. Even at 6 am, this hostel was so welcoming to me, said it was no problem to go ahead to my dorm room and crash. This doesn’t always happen. Imagine getting there this early, having to store your stuff, and leave (here’s looking at you Barcelona). Understandably, a part of hostel policy, and it’s before check in, I get it, I get it. But it’s really nice to have somebody bend the rules for you, even when undeserved. Already, I’m prone to that experience-based judgment, and starting to enjoy Russia more. So fickle.

After I crashed for a while…OK a long while…I showered and cleaned up. Then I hit up Red Square (5 minute walk). The pictures in my album will do a better job showing all that part off (it was so beautiful- going back tomorrow fro Kremlin tours), but I wanted to bring the attention to how quickly we can make judgments on places. Even after traveling all over the world, my experiences can still so easily be dictated by difficult situations. Truth is- taxis are always pricey, airports are always far away, and 4:20am is always, always a terrible time to get in.

In every destination, there will be guys like Alec- who have a job to do, and are trying to make money, whether dishonestly, or honestly but there’s miscommunication. And in every destination, there are guys like Yaroslav- a genuine, nice guy who’s pretty excited to be running a brand new hostel (I’ve already obtained the job of advice-giver/new ideas guy). The issue is our perspective. This place has so much to offer, and my perspective needs to maintain an even keel. If you travel mentally prepared for these situations, it won’t surprise you, and hey, they’re just travel stories. If you don’t let negative experience taint your perspective, you are guaranteed to have a better time than letting it get you down. There’s probably some sub-profound application to everyday not-traveling, and I’ll go ahead and say “yes, I agree”. So with that- I’m off to bed, and going to have a great time at the Kremlin tomorrow! Will keep everybody posted, and check out the pictures in the album!!

-BK