Postcard from Bishkek

Last week I had a most frustrating morning.

I had been invited to a meeting and confirmed what I would attend.  Although I had never been to the place where the meeting was to be held, but I had the address and thought that I Bishkek well enough to find it.  Sure enough, the street is a fairly major one in the city centre and, from the address, I had a vague idea of where it must be.

I can now say, with the advantage of hindsight, that this may have been a little overconfident.

Although addresses here in Kyrgyzstan follow the same sort of principles as at home, the two sides of the street are designated “odd” and “even” with buildings being numbered sequentially in one direction: 1,3,5,7,9 … and so on on one side of the street and 2,4,6,8,10, and so on the other.

There are always, however, exceptions to the rule and just occasionally these lead to some surprising and quirky effects.

Buildings on one side of the road might well be smaller and more packed together than on the other side so, for example, our office, (in 131 Kieveskaya), but the buildings on the opposite side of the street are in the 150′s.  That’s not a big difference, but it can sometimes be substantial.

Sometimes, where there is sufficient space between two existing buildings someone may erect a new building and this is usually shown by a number something like 131/1.  Behind our office, for example, is a small, one storey, building that houses a Music School that has the address Kievskaya 131/2.  Because it is actually set back off the road, we sometimes have people come into the office asking for directions in order to find the school.

Then again, our neighbouring building, (Kievskaya 129), actually runs along the cross street, (Isanovna), and logic suggests should really be numbered as Isanovna something-or-other.

I remember once, being in one of the Bishkek suburbs where there were lots of tower blocks of flats.    They all had a number, but there seemed to be no logic to the order … especially as they were spread out around an area and not placed along the side of a road.  I was told that the number reflected the order in which they were constructed and all the locals would know … but they didn’t.  We spent over an hour driving around the area asking people until we eventually found the place we were looking for.

Well, I had the same sort of experience this time.  My driver drove me to the meeting, but as he had some other business to see to, once we got the street and found number 89, (we were looking for number 93/1), I told him to drop me and go and deal with the other errands that he had to see to.  I was early and had plenty of time and was sure that I would have no trouble finding the venue in no time.  Oh, the arrogance of my over confidence.

I headed down the street.  The next building was a large one and although logic told me that this should be number 91 I thought that this must be where the meeting was to be held, after all, the meeting was supposed to be on the seventh floor and the next building was smaller than that.  As I drew closer, however, looking for the entrance, I saw that it was number 99/1 … and the next building was clearly numbered 101/1.  So, I thought to myself, what happened to numbers 91, 93, 95 and 97?

I approached several people to ask if they could help me.  The first was a security guard at number 99.  He had no idea.  In other circumstances I made have blamed this on my Russian, my pronunciation, my accent … but I had the printed invitation with me and showed it to him, (I presume that he could read), but the only response I got was, “ya ne znaiu, ponyat ne imayu” –  I don’t know, I don’tunderstand.

Another person told me that there were several buildings behind this one, suggesting that, perhaps, the one I wanted was one of these.  After all, the address was 93/2 – indicating a second building.   So, off I trotted … but to no avail.  I asked several others.  One simply said, “I’m not from here, I don’t know”, one walked with me between the buildings but ended up confessing that she hadn’t the faintest idea either.  Two elderly ladies responded in Kyrgyz – they didn’t speak Russian, and there was obviously no point in asking if they spoke English, and I was cursing myself for not having mastered at least a little more Kyrgyz than just kandai, jakshi, akrin and jaman, (How are you, fine, 50-50 and not good!).

When I was young, back in the UK, we were always told, “If, you are lost, ask a policeman,” so that’s what I did next.  Like everyone else that I spoke to, he tried to be helpful, pointed out where the street was, but even he had to admit that he didn’t know.

One man told directed me further down the street to the Red Center … although I wasn’t convinced, I was already late for the meeting and his suggesttion seemed as good as anything else that I could come up with at the time … and so, off I went.  The Red Center was number 121 … so I gave up.   I turned around and headed off back to the office.

On the way, ironically, I was stopped by a young woman who asked for directions to the Academy of Sciences, and felt really pleased with myself because I was able to tell her even though it was a long way away.  Odd, I thought to myself, I can help others find their way around town, but can’t find what I am looking for myself.

But, that wasn’t the main thought that was running my mind … the question I kept asking myself as I heading back to the office was “How on earth is it possible to miss a seven storey building?”

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For the record: I later discovered that 93/1 was even further down down the street, in other words after number 121, but more to the point … it’s on the other side of the road (!) … on the even side of the road!

 

Tags: Expat, Life_in_Kyrgyzstan