I wish I had written that!
There’s a story about Oscar Wilde, that he was at a dinner party when somebody made a clever, witty, remark and he is supposed to have commented, “I wish I had said that!”, to which Whistler, one of the dinner guests replied: “You will, Oscar. You will.”
Well, I felt like Oscar Wilde one day this week, when I came across a blog post, . It was written by a Peace Corps volunteer called Justine Johnson who after a two month training course came out to Kyrgyzstan in 2008 for a two year assignment working with a Kyrgyz NGO, (Non-Governmental Organization).
Like most of the blogs written by Peace Corps volunteers it carries the “Health Warning” that:
“THE VIEWS AND OPINIONS EXPRESSED ON THIS BLOG ARE MY OWN AND DO NOT REPRESENT THOSE OF THE PEACE CORPS OR THE UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT.”
Most of her posts are quite brief, to the point … and a better example of a “postcard” than my posts!
They cover all sorts of topics, good and bad, ranging from learning Russian, birthdays, meals, a trip to the banya, (sauna), bride kidnapping, housework, experiencing an earthquake, festivals and holidays – as well as some aspects of her work.
Unfortunately, the blog seems to stop after a few months, and I was left wondering what happened … but that’s another story.
The post that caught my imagination and admiration was called “Marshrutka“. A marshrutka is a minibus that operates as a form of public transport in Bishkek and other sizeable towns. Although they have set routes, and are supposed to stop only at set points, you can basically stop one anywhere, such as at a crossroads, to either get on or off. They also ply routes between the main cities going from the bus station in one to the bus station in another. They are relatively cheap – at the moment, a trip in the city costs just 8 som, or about 20 cents, US – but can be crowded and uncomfortable.
I won’t try and paraphrase what she said – let me quote the post in full:
As I am sitting nestled between an old woman and a young girl in a marshrutka, I thought of how these buses are like Kyrgyzstan itself. Even though there are faltering parts of the machine, it’s running. It doesn’t look that appealing from the outside and you take a deep breath before getting in, thinking this might be your last expedition, but you get in anyway. There are a couple bumps on the road, but you arrive safely at your final destination without harm. I see the people in the bus and it makes me smile. Not only do I have the wisdom of age to my left, but I have the great future sitting to my right. Beyond the two women, I see the generosity of Kyrgyzstan during my ride. Young kids stand up for the respected elders without question. If you do have to stand, pass your belongings on to someone lucky enough to get a seat and you don’t have to worry about it being damaged or taken. Another majestic event that occurs in the marshrutka is that people act like family. One woman stood with her child on her hip trying to balance without anything to hold; an older woman took the child to relief the mother and soothed him just as if it was her own. There are wise men with patches of white beards and kalpaks and striking aged women in traditional headscarves and deep magenta wool clothing who sit perched on their seats waiting for their stop and boisterous children piling in with their new cell phones and grubby chocolate hands from ice cream. If you want to see Kyrgyzstan, jump in the oldest marshrutka you can find and take in the culture and enjoy the ride.
I don’t often get to ride in a marshrutka, but having read the post, I sat and reflected about the trips I have taken. In particular, I liked the opening and closing lines, although I can’t say that riding a marshrutka is a thrilling experience or one that I would think of recommending to our clients, but, still, there was a ring of truth to what she says.
I don’t know if I will ever get the chance to meet Justine, or if she will ever get to see this, but if it were to happen, then the message I would like to pass on to her would be: as Nurshat commented on the page, it was a “good observation!”. Thank You for sharing it with us.
Oh, yes, and … “I wish I had written that!”
As an aside: I sometimes say something similar when I am asked about Tash Rabat. In many ways, it is like Kyrgyzstan itself … small, remote, off the main road, hard to get to and easy to pass by and miss altogether, but beautiful, historic, where you can converse with nature – or as Wordsworth put it “with Heaven”, and encapsulating the atmosphere and spirit of a time long gone.
For those who are interested to go and have a look:
- The blog: Justine In Kyrgyz – http://justinepc.blogspot.com/
- The post: Justine In Kyrgyz- Marshrutka – http://justinepc.blogspot.com/2008/10/marshrutka.html
For some other Peace Corp blogs – see the Blogs page on www.links.kg – http://www.links.kg/blogs.htm
Bishkek