It’s Chinese New Year.
They tell me that this year should be good for business, (“after all, it’s the year of the Rabbit”), whereas last year was bound to be difficult one, (“because it was the year of the Tiger”).
Hmmm. Funny, that they didn’t tell me the difficulties associated with the Year of the Tiger, this time last year. More…
During the last few days I have been somewhat spoiled with lots of people fussing over me. Everyone has been very kind and attentive and one my neighbours has been preparing jars of compot, (boiled fruit juice), and saucepans of Chicken Soup for me. That’s one of the advantages of being ill, I suppose, but, to be honest, I would rather that it wasn’t necessary.
Compot is OK, but I get tired very quickly of Chicken Soup. A few years ago I was ill and the doctor wouldn’t let me eat anything but Chicken Soup for several weeks whilst we were waiting for the results of various tests.
Sometimes people are surprised when they hear that I don’t have a cook, but would rather cook for myself. I’m not particularly good at cooking Chicken Soup, even though it is pretty straight forward. It’s just not one of my specialities. I tend to cook things that are more spicy.
I have often thought, however, that I would like to learn to cook some of the local dishes, but never really got round to learning. I was particularly interested on Tuesday, therefore, when I received a notice about a special event being organized at one of the local universities in order to raise funds to help a group of disabled people to take part in Fashion Week in March – a special Cooking Master Class. More…
I was ten years old, and still at Primary School on January 1st, 1964, when the disc jockey Jimmy Saville presented the very first edition of the United Kingdom’s flagship programme reviewing the pop music charts, Top of the Pops, (TOTP). To be honest, I can’t remember actually watching it, but I am sure that my brother and I would have joined with the vast majority of Britain’s youth gathering in front of their TV sets to watch the new programme. Little did anyone realize that the programme which was scheduled for a short run, would still be running over forty years later. More…
The Southern Ring road around Bishkek is named after Isa Akhunbaev, a notable Kyrgyz doctor and surgeon (who lived between 1908 and 1975). Akhunbaev is not well known today outside his native Kyrgyzstan – but he is held in very high regard amongst his own people – not only because of his achievements – but also as a role model.
As I have been sitting nursing a bout of the flu, my mind has turned, (naturally), to medical matters … I have, for example, looked up symptoms and treatments, but I have also been thinking about the medical provision here in Kyrgyzstan.
The travel advice for Kyrgyzstan from the British Foreign and Commonwealth Office states:
Medical facilities in Kyrgyzstan are not as developed as those in the UK …
Well, it’s difficult to argue with that, but it’s not all that helpful. More…
It’s been a strange week here in Bishkek … and also, apparently, around the world.
It began with “Blue Monday”. A few years a British tour firm decided on a sales gimmick to help “prime the pump” so that people would start booking holidays, and they decided to declare the Monday of the last full week in January as “Blue Monday” – the unhappiest day of the year … what better stimulus to encourage people to stir themselves into action and plan their next summer holiday. They even managed to drag out a “scientist” who “developed” a “formula” to justify the designation. It sounded just like something that Sir Humphrey Appleby might have come up with in his attempt to frustrate the wishes of his erstwhile master, the Minister, Jim Hacker. More…
Balbals are small stone figures, (statues, statuettes), which are found scattered throughout the Steppes of Central Asia, (from North-western Mongolia to Turkey – the area between the Caspian and Black Seas), and in Northern Kyrgyzstan they are considered to be a feature.
This may be because these enigmatic stone figures are a number of places in Northern Kyrgyzstan where specimens have been collected together.
Originally they stood in isolation at various places on the steppes, often looking towards the east, (one source suggested towards the mountains), but the authorities decided that the best way to preserve them was to bring them together into museum complexes. More…
I am aware that there has been a somewhat depressing turn to the postcards recently, in that there have been quite few references to deaths and funerals.
I have mentioned several times that last year was the year of the “black tie”. It wasn’t just a case of the number of people that died in the turmoil that we experienced during the year, but a number of friends and acquaintances also passed away and, as a result, I visited the cemetery on a few too many occasions for my liking.
Yesterday involved yet another trip, but this time it was not because someone had just died but rather to mark the one year anniversary of his death. There is a tradition here, that as well as holding a wake, (called a “pamenka”), on the occasion of the funeral, the friends and relatives also gather on the ninth, the fortieth day and after a year, to mark the occasion and remember the deceased. Although this marks the end of the mourning process, there are other occasions when one visits the grave, on birthdays and anniversaries and on Roditelskiy Dehn, (the second Tuesday after Easter – Orthodox Easter, that is).
Roma was a close friend of mine who died suddenly a year ago, hence, yesterday’s visit to the cemetery. More…
I see from National Geographic that winter lasts for 21 years on Uranus. Thank goodness it doesn’t last that long here in Kyrgyzstan.
Last Friday, the sun was shining and the weather was warm. It made a pleasant change to the bitter, biting, wind and the frozen snow covered ground. One of my neighbours was bringing in the washing that had been hung out out to dry on the clothes line in the yard and paused to comment on the change in the weather. (It’s not just the Brits who seem to have a fixation of talking about the weather as our main topic of conversation.) More…
I have a saying that “Every day is a special day … for someone”, even if it is not a special holiday.
January 25th, for example, the twenty-fifth here in Kyrgyzstan, at least for those called Tatiana, like my accountants … but I wrote about that last year … http://ianbek.kg/?p=1239
It is a special day for the Scots, it being Burns Night. It was on this day in 1759, that the poet Robert Burns was born into a tenant farmer’s family, just a short distance outside Ayr. More…
