There is always next year
After attending the performance of Mozart’s opera, “Die Entführung aus dem Serail“, (which went far beyond the usual limits of the then current tradition of opera with its long and elaborately written songs), the emperor Joseph II is said to have remarked to the composer “Your work is ingenious. It’s quality work. And there are simply too many notes, that’s all. Just cut a few and it will be perfect.” To which Mozart apparently replied “Which few did you have in mind, Majesty?”
Sometimes I feel like the emperor when it comes to Kyrgyzstan – “it’s magnificent, but there are simply too many attractions: things to see and things to do”. I wouldn’t, however, go as far as him in suggesting that we eliminate a few …
As a tour operator, I am responsible for sending tourists to all sorts of places around the country … and people often think I have been to all of them … Alas, it is not so. I have been to many places – but there is still a long (and growing) list of places on my personal “Must See” list.
For several years now I have planned to take a number of trips to different places around the country. Each year I manage to strike some of them from my list … but there always seems to be more being added. This year, 2006, I had planned two particular trips. As Robert Burns noted, however, “The best laid plans of mice and men gang aft aglay” and circumstances have combined to prevent to prevent me from completing either of them. I am left with frustrated ambitions … and, (like the Jewish mantra uttered at Passover: “next year in Jerusalem”), the hope that, maybe, “next year …Baetova, Merzbacher, Safed Bulan, Saimaluu Tash …”.
Frustrated ambitions are nothing new. I remember that, on my arrival in Kyrgyzstan back in 1995, I flew into Almaty airport – there were even fewer international flights into Bishkek then than there are now – and during the four hour drive to Bishkek I fell asleep in the early morning sun. I awoke several times during the journey.
On one occasion it was to be greeted by the sight of two “cowboys” riding their horses along the side of the road chasing a runaway steer – just like on “Rawhide”, I thought to myself. Maybe I will give that a go (riding a horse, that is … not necessarily taking part in the “round up”). Needless to say – I still haven’t mounted a steed, despite all the efforts of my colleagues to persuade me. Maybe … ”next year”.
On another occasion, the first thing I saw as I emerged from drowsy slumbers was a sign indicating that a turn to the left would take us to Samarkand. Samarkand – a name from the history books; a name to conjure with in the imagination. “While I am here I must go there”, I said to myself. At that time, I thought I was only coming here for a year, but, I was sure that I would find the time to make the journey. Eleven years later, I still haven’t managed it. Maybe … “next year”.
It’s not, however, all a case of frustrated ambitions. If I have failed to fulfill some of my plans – then I have succeeded in others. Also, as I expect that I will still be here “next year”, I hope to have the opportunity to fulfill at least some of the others in the, near, future.
For most tourists who visit the Kyrgyz Republic, on the other hand, it is the “trip of a lifetime” … I call it the “this year: the Silk Road and Central Asia … next year: on Safari in East Africa” syndrome. I have “next year” to fall back on – they don’t. They will be somewhere else.
Because it may well be the only time they will be here, (and it’s not necessarily easy – or cheap - to get to Kyrgyzstan), it is understandable that they want to cram as much as possible into the experience.
We often get asked for advice: can we do this …?; what shouldn’t we miss?; “is it worth going to …?. Sometimes their plans are just too optimistic to be realistic – and we have to say: “Sorry … no, you can’t do it …”.
It’s always difficult to say “no” – it is so absolute and final. The motto of the Hilton used to be (maybe it still is): “We never say No”. Actually, although I have never experienced it myself, I expect that they do. They probably find another way to say it, without using the actual word … the meaning, however, remains the same: “No”.
It is not often that we simply say “no” … and when we do we always try to explain why we do so. Even so, some people find it hard to understand – whatever form of words we use, … and whatever explanations we give. In a way, that is understandable:
- they are disappointed, because their plans are being frustrated;
- they don’t understand that the situation and circumstances here are different than at home … For example: crossing borders betweeen Bishkek and Tashkent (travelling from Kyrgyzstan through Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan) is not the same as crossing from France through Belgium to Holland; the Torugart and Irkeshtam crossings have restricted opening times and do not work 24 hours a day; distances, time and the pace of life are all quite different from at home, (I used to drive the 250km from North London to my parents home in far less time than it takes to cover the same distance here … but then, the motorways were far better and easier to drive on than Kyrgyzstan’s roads, the speed limit is higher, and I wasn’t stopping to take take in the scenery – and possibly photographs).
- They are the client and they are paying for a tour … and so they expect to be able to “call the shots”. If it is possible to fulfill their requests their requests then we will try our utmost to do so … but
- sometimes it is just not possible, (you cannot ‘fit a quart into a pint pot’ or ”square the circle”, neither can you obtain a Kyrgyz visa at the border with Uzbekistan); or
- it is unadvisable or unsafe (the road to Son Kul is likely to be closed by snow in February; even if the client is willing to travel 18 hours non-stop from Osh to Naryn via Kazarman … it’s not safe for the driver to attempt such a journey), and
- in some cases “bitter experience” tells us that it is “not a good idea” even if, technically, it should be possible, (trying to cross Torugart ot Irkeshtam in the first ten days of either May or October).
- On the odd occasion we cannot fulfill a request because it is illegal (rafting down the Sary Djaz river into China).
I remember that once, when I was a schoolteacher in North London, a colleague was faced by a pupil persistently refused to accept the clear and unequivocal “no” in response to his request, (what was in his opinion, a perfectly reasonable request). Having simply refused at first, and then explaining her decision when he repeated the request, she finally used the riposte: “Which part of the word ‘no’ do you not understand, the ’n’ or the ‘o’?” The sarcasm in that question seems to me to have been a little ‘over the top’ but I do remember once reinforcing my equally clear and unequivocal “no” with a similar ‘put down’ question: “Are you asking me to break the law?”
If it’s possible, then we try to fulfill the client’s requests – but sometimes … we have to reach a compromise. It is not possible to do everything and that means, unfortunately, that plans have to change and some ambitions are frustrated. I am sure that some clients and potential clients take a cynical view when I say: “There is always ‘next year’”.
Bishkek