One day, seventeen years ago!
I know that it is a bit late, but we have been doing some “spring cleaning”. Actually, it’s more of a “clear out” than “spring cleaning”. Over the course of time, things that aren’t needed on a day-to-day basis tend to get put to one side, in a drawer of an shelf in a cupboard, slowly accumulating into an assorted mass of “this and that”. Old keys and cables, an electric kettle put aside to serve as a “spare” when a new one was purchased; old diaries and notebooks; postcards, birthday and Christmas cards … not to mention old Christmas decorations which should have been thrown away long ago; buttons that never got sewn back on, old batteries … and so on … and so on.
For a number of reasons, both in the office and at home, we have been going through the collected assortment of bric-a-brac, tidying up and throwing out a load things which we decided were probably of little interest or no further practical use and so qualified as junk rather than as mementoes or curios.
I wondered what to do with the various ornaments I have been given over the years, the old cassette tapes that I brought with me, (classic radio programmes like Round the Horne, Just a Minute and ISIHAC – I’m sorry, I haven’t a clue), and the old 3.5inch floppy discs.I thought to myself, as I went through the boxes with the sets of distribution discs for Windows95, Doctor Solomon’s Anti Virus Toolkit and Word Perfect, that in the “good old days” when I had been a teacher of Computing and Information Technology, I would have been tempted to hold on to them as “museum pieces” … but I couldn’t see the point here and now. In fact – we have only one computer in the office with a floppy drive. I looked at all the data discs and wondered if was worth keeping the data files … I hadn’t looked at most of them for ten or fifteen years, so it was unlikely that I would do so in the next ten or fifteen years.
However, I did make a point of looking at each disk before consigning it to the waste bin. As I looked at one floppy in particular, I did a double take … and muttered to myself, “so that’s where that went … “. The disk contained a single file … a word document that I started back in 1995 as a diary to record my experiences, thoughts and feelings as I ventured into a new and unfamiliar world. I wasn’t writing with the intention of showing anybody or publishing it, but rather I wanted to create an aide memoire so that, later, I could look back and reminisce over my experiences.
In theory, I was coming to Bishkek for a year in order to help a friend of mine, Tony, set up an office for a law firm. Although lots of people travel widely and spend time living abroad, I realised that what I was doing was, (at least for me), something unusual and momentous, and that at some point in the future I might want to look back and reminisce over my experiences.
The first entry is dated 27th July, 1995, and opens with the phrase, “Well, here I am in sunny Bishkek” and four months later, after 144 pages and just short of 125,000 words, the last entry is dated 17th November and ends with the sentence: “At about eleven-thirty I finally turned out the light and went to sleep.”
I probably haven’t looked at the file ever since that day in mid-November seventeen years ago, and I don’t think that I have ever read the text all the way through. So, as you can probably imagine, having found the file on the disc, I soon became engrossed didn’t get much else done for the next couple of hours.
The opening pages written on that first morning began with my trying to come to terms with I had done: It hasn’t really hit me yet, although there were times on the journey when I wondered “What on earth am I doing?” I put this down, to a certain extent, to tiredness and the fact that I wasn’t used to travelling on my own. It wasn’t because I was unprepared – I had had plenty of time to get myself ready, but Parkinson’s came into operation … work expanding to fill the available time and there was always more and unexpected things cropping up … and although I thought I had finished packing days before I finally left … there were more and more small items that seemed to be creeping into my suitcase.
I spent some time writing a brief resume of my last few days in London … the end of term and the string of final “goodbyes”, although at the time I was only expecting to be gone for a year. I had forgotten this but, apparently, a couple of days beforehand I had taken a fall on the stairs … I’d been in a hurry to get some papers to answer a question and missed my footing on the last few steps, falling down the last few steps hurting my leg … it was swollen and painful to walk on, but although I tried to convince myself that everything would be “OK”, I began to wonder how I would be able to cope if and when I needed to talk to a doctor.
D-Day, (Departure Day), arrived. I woke early … at about 3:00 am, but I wasn’t sure if that was a result of the excitement, or the Pertsovka, (Pepper Vodka), that I had drunk with friends at dinner during the evening. My brother and his family came to drive me to the airport. To be honest, I had forgotten that, until I reread some of the comments that I had written. I flew to Almaty on Lufthansa which meant flying via Frankfurt. There was a school party on board and I was amused to watch the teacher in charge count her party through, one by one, thinking to myself, “how many times have I done that?”. Also on the flight had been the Tien Shan Scientific Expedition ’95 – at least, that’s what their T-shirts said. Apparently they were quite a lively bunch complaining about US dollars … and calling each other “space cadet“, which was, apparently, one of the worst insults they could pay each other.
After an uneventful flight, in which I managed to get sleep fitfully, we landed in Almaty and were all off the plane very quickly. It’s my third visit … on my earlier visit to Bishkek the precious year I had, both arrived and departed through Almaty. Mind you, this time I was on my own.
There was a long queue of people getting their visas on arrival at the consular section, (which was closed – some things never seem to change), but as I had mine I just queued up for Passport Control which apparently went quickly and smoothly. The luggage came out quite quickly and I rushed to the Customs queue. While I was waiting in line I realised I was supposed to have put my bags through the X-ray machine because the guard came and berated a number of passengers who had walked straight past it, just like I had – some things never seem to change. Worse was to come. I had passed over my passport and customs declaration when I realised I had made a mistake on it. Fortunately, I managed to get out of that, but the official then decided that he wanted to look inside one of my bags. ‘Computer?’ he asked … ‘Niet, tolka Walkman’, I replied and pointed to it. Gosh, I was pleased with myself … two whole words in Russian – and he understood me, (but maybe that was that because I was pointing at it?), and he waved me one and that was that.
I was being met by my Tony, but there was no sign of him in the Exit Lobby, but as I was early, I settled down to wait for him. Taxi diver after Taxi driver made their way over to me, offering their services. I tried ‘Niet pajolsta’ and other variations on the theme … two whole words of Russian, but I wasn’t having the same sort of success … it seems that it should have been ‘Niet, spasibo’. As a result, there was a certain amount of confusion and one kept returning to me, offering me the names of different Hotels in Alma Aty. To another I said ‘colleagi’ and I got out my phase book and looked up the verb ‘to meet’ (vstretitsya) but decided that it’s virtually unpronounceable. He tried pigeon English and sign language to say ‘Wait half an hour, if he not come I will take you. O.K.’ As it was getting a little late, and Tony still hadn’t appeared, I must admit that I began to feel a little apprehensive. Fortunately, however, he eventually strolls in and informs me that he had been waiting outside all the time!
I needed to go to the toilet and Tony told me that there was one inside the Terminal building and so, off I trotted. Apparently, “When I get there, I remember it!” … and although I didn’t write anything specific in my diary, no details, something tell’s me that it wasn’t a happy memory … some things don’t seem to change.
We start the three hour drive to Bishkek. Almaty is a big city and it seemed to take a long time to leave the city limits. Tony asked me if I remember the road … and it’s true that parts of it did ring a bell but it is only the third time I have driven along it … and one of those occasions was at night. Anyway, we chat away for a little while, passing two police checkpoints – some things never seem to change – and eventually I fell asleep.
Although it was a three hour journey, because of the time differences, it was still early morning when we arrived in Bishkek … and Tony has to go off to work … I can get some real sleep before unpacking. It seems that the telephone rang a lot, but Tony had warned me not to bother answering it … which, given my experience with the taxi drivers, was probably good advice. It’s funny, but it’s probably still good advice – some things never seem to change.
In the evening I am introduced to some other of my fellow “house guests” – cockroaches … I am pleased to be able to say that some thing do seem to change and these are nowhere near as common a sight as they used to be back then.
To round off a tiring day, (even if I have spent a fair amount of it sleeping), we settled down to eat a spicy meal washed down with Chinese beer and Sovietskoye Champagne, and watch a film – one of the video cassettes I had brought with me – a rarity in those days. Fortunately, some things do seem to change to change and there is more availability of films in different languages these days.
It wasn’t quite the end of the day, however, as at eleven the phone rang. For some reason, Tony ignored the advice he had given me earlier in the day and picked up the receiver. He started speaking in Russian but swiftly switched into English … “Yes, he’s here … one moment“, handing me the phone. It’s my mother calling to make sure that everything was OK, that I had arrived safely … I am kicking myself because she called me and I didn’t think to call her, but Tony tells me that it was actually quite difficult to make international phone calls. Fortunately some things have changed and it’s now a lot easier.
She tells me there’s an echo on the line, but I can’t hear one … although her voice was very faint and difficult for me to hear what she is saying. Fortunately, some things do change and these days the quality of the telephone service is quite good.
Mum asked about the time difference and asks if she can wait until after six in future because it’s very expensive. Fortunately, some things do change, especially with Skype and the like.
Finally, the day did come to end and I was finally able to get some uninterrupted sleep.
Bishkek