Conversation with a Tourist
The working day in the office, technically, runs from 9:00 a.m. until 5:00 p.m., but it rarely works out like that. In fact, my working day usually starts at six a.m. when I come downstairs to the office from my apartment which is literally “just over the office”. I rarely finish work early, however, and it can be anywhere between 5:00 p.m. and 2:00 a.m., depending on the pressures of work and how tired I am, when I climb back “up the wooden hill”, (as my father used to put it). So that you don’t get the wrong idea I should point out that it is usually only 6:00 or 7:00 p.m. and only rarely, when something is really urgent, does it stretch to the early hours of the morning.
The convenience of living over the office is, in some ways, a definite advantage … but in others it is definitely not to be recommended. In the winter, for example, it is extremely pleasant to be able to roll into the office without having had to brave the elements, but on the other hand I feel that I am always on call. Sometimes, for example, if I have an meeting in the late afternoon or early evening, then I always face the dilemma on returning home about whether to go into the office on the way, or not. There is always something to do and there is always the great temptation to fill half and hour usefully doing this or that.
Being constantly available, “on call”, is definitely a disadvantage because you can be sure that the telephone will ring or someone will drop in. It is quite common for tourists, who “just happen to be passing”, to drop in at all hours clutching their copy of Lonely Planet or the Oddyssey Guide to Kyrgyzstan, open at the page which gives our address – late in the evening or on a Sunday. Last Friday we got a phone call at about half-past four from a tourist who wanted to call in, and who asked “How do I get get to your office?”. She had the address, (and, obviously the telephone number because she was calling us), but she wanted to know which “marshrutka“, miinibus, she needed to take from the sixth microdistrict, (suburb). That gave me a slight problem because I don’t often use the minibuses in Bishkek. The city is not exactly small, but virtually everywhere in the center where we are based is within easy walking distance – I can get almost anywhere in about half an hour or forty minutes and, usually, there are many taxis if I am short of time. Anyway, we gave her directions and she said she would be with us in about half-an-hour.
At the time I thought that was quite optimistic, but as I always have lots of routine tasks to do on Friday evening, I wasn’t too worried if she was going to be a little late – which she was, but she did find us, or rather me, because it was already well after office hours and everyone else had gone home.
So I answered her queries and once business was out of the way the inevitable conversation, or question and answer session, began. She asked where I was from, how long had I lived here and how on earth I ended up in Central Asia – all the usual questions. I asked here where she was from, how long she had been travelling, where had she been and what her plans were.
She was Swiss, and had been travelling for over a year already and was on her way back home, over land. Most recently she had been in Mongolia and China and had crossed the border at Irkeshtam and spent a day in Osh before travelling up to Bishkek in order to arrange visas. She had wanted to travel through Kazakhstan to the Caspian and then over to Azerbaijan and eventually in Turkey, but her plans had been thrown into disarray and she was having to rearrange everything – but, before we get to that …
Hearing that she had spent some time in Osh, I took the opportunity to ask for her impressions. It was quiet, she said, and peaceful. There were some signs of the destruction the had occurred during the summer but there also signs of reconstruction. The Bazaar was now working and she had taken the opportunity to buy a few things. I pointed out that this was indeed good news because I had heard quite recently that it still hadn’t opened. (In fact the photos on the Eurasia.org website - http://www.eurasianet.org/node/62352 – still give a very discouraging impression). Of course, she said, she didn’t know what it was like in “normal” times, and the no market hall, but there were stalls in the outside and people were buying food and other things.
She offered the usual praise for the scenery – the “spectacular” landscape, and also spoke very highly of the attitude of the Kyrgyz – everyone had been very hospitable – really friendly, courteous and helpful. When there was a delay at the border, for example, the border guards even given her tea! … at no charge!! This was a high point of her travels so far and compared favourably with what she had experienced so far in Asia. That was really good to hear and I made a mental note to make sure I passed the comment on to the authorities whenever the opportunity arose … they like to hear good news … don’t we all?.
So turning to her future plans, why did she have to rearrange her itinerary. She told me something that took me aback. As she is travelling for so long, then she is having to get visas en-route – never a good idea, there are often many problems finding embassies, and the possibility that you might get turned down and stranded. That’s why the general advice is always to try and get them before you set out if at all possible. Being on the road for so long, however, meant that she couldn’t that. Apparently, when she enquired about obtaining a visa for Kazakhstan at the Kazakh consulate, she was told “no problem” – but when she turned up to actually apply, the consul looked at her and most apologetically said: “I’m sorry, I can’t give you one.” According to him, it seems that for some reason the Kazakhs have decided that no visas will be issued for the month.
That surprised me … it surprised her, and threw all her planning into confusion. As it happened, however, some of her travelling companions were planning to travel from Kyrgyzstan to Tajikistan and then head off back towards Europe. It wasn’t exactly what she had in mind … but seemed to be an attractive and viable alternative. There are problems with the route, however, especially the perennial problem of visas. Instead of two visas, she now needs to apply for four different ones – and nearly all the countries concerned have a reputation for being difficult to get visas – even for the Swiss.
Even though the Swiss don’t need a letter of invitation for some of the countries, the consuls concerned looked for one, which involved not only additional expense but also required more time. … Then there was the matter of making the applications … the consulates all open at different times and to make matters worse, in the coming weeks, there are holidays when the embassies will be closed. It looks as if she may be “trapped in Bishkek” for a couple of weeks for the bureaucracy to work itself out. Even then, there is no guarantee that she will get all of the visas … and she only needs one application to be rejected and she has to start planning all over again. This sounded to me to be an ideal example of how we need a “Silk Road Visa”.
There have been discussions for about a decade now for some sort of visa reform to make it easier to travel the Silk Road. The World Tourism Organization, (now called the United Nations World Tourism Organization), have long proposed that there could be a single visa covering all the countries along the Silk Road, but it’s never come to anything. Some of the countries along the way have been sympathetic to the idea, but others resolutely opposed.
The were other problems that I could foresee. Travelling to Tajikistan overland, for example, means using the Kyzyl Art pass – down to Osh and Sary Tash again, then head further South into the mountains, and taking the remote and rugged Pamir Highway … in November and December! Technically, as I understand it, it’s possible … but I am not sure that I would want to do it. It will be a cold and difficult journey at that time of the year.
More to the point, however, I asked about she planned to cross from Tajikistan into Uzbekistan. Technically the border is closed at the moment. The discussion then ranged far and wide about the difficulties in crossing borders. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think you will be given tea everywhere.” In Europe, it’s so easy – especially since the advent of the European Community and the Schengen zone.
In answer to the question “is this sort of thing common here?”, I responded that: “It’s one of the delights of working in Central Asia. You can never be certain about what is going to happen. The situation keeps changing, from year to year, month to month and even day to day. You can’t take anything for granted.”
She took it well, in her stride. She “rolled with it”. After a year on the road, she said, she had become used to setbacks of one sort or another and having to rethink her plans.
I wished her luck as she ventured out into the Bishkek night – I hope she doesn’t need it.
All in all, it was a pleasant exchange and well worth the unplanned extension to the working day.
Bishkek