To honor Sabeen, I’m going to stop being a “Jackass Pakistani”

The outpouring of grief over Sabeen Mahmud’s murder in Pakistan, has been overwhelming and humbling. Many have shared stories of Sabeen’s impacted on their lives. I only briefly encountered Sabeen at T2F, but she was, and will continue to be, a permanent part of Karachi. And making that kind of an impact in a city filled with apathy, hopelessness and everyday Pakistani nonsense is a big deal. Sabeen’s death has meant many things for many people, but for me, it’s shaken me out of my apathy. It’s time to think about what’s next.

Like many others, my first reaction was hate for Pakistan – the country that’s killed Sabeen, Parveen Rehman, and countless other activists and fighters – “All the better, Pakistan doesn't deserve people like this.” For me personally, it wasn't Salman Taseer or Malala’s story that threw me over to the dark side. It was long before that, following the 2010 gruesome public lynching of two teenage students, alleged robbers, Mughees and Muneeb, by a mob in Sialkot, Pakistan. I gave up on Pakistan.

I adopted the familiar role of reading and pontificating from a distance – “All Pakistanis do is go to dharnas ”, “These activists think putting up a play is going to change the country… Idiots"  –  what I hereby refer to as the “Jackass Pakistani.”

If there’s anything Sabeen’s death can do, it’s to force us to cut the bullshit. The pessimism, the morbid perspective, and the hopelessness is abundant in Pakistan. We – the collective Jackass Pakistanis – are not saying anything regular Pakistanis don’t already know, and we’re obviously not providing any solutions to the problem. We know that one protest, one talk, one play, and several dead bodies are not going to fix a 65-year old problem. But there are believers out there who choose hope, and are willing to keep trying.

What have you done to change the world today?

So in honor of Sabeen, I've decided to stop being the Jackass Pakistani. No, I’m probably NOT going to participate in Imran Khan’s 400^th dharna, I’m probably still going to get pissed off at hate-inciting mullahs starting their own clothes lines, and I’m still going to state for the record that Karachi is WAY cooler than Lahore (#factoflife). But I’m also going to learn more, become more informed on my own, and stop being the person who thinks, “Yea, well fortunately only 10 people died in the blast instead of 100.”

Here are some things I've done/am doing that might be helpful to you if you want to stop being the Jackass Pakistani:

• Understand what’s going on – Don’t just read FB posts (like I was doing), don’t make your friends’ opinions yours… read real content, opinions from the horse’s mouth and make up your own mind. Learn more about Balochistan, understand the missing people issues, and find out the real story behind China-Pakistan Free Trade Agreement. I've started by retweeting/reposting articles that I found to be unbiased. I’m also following some cool pages on Facebook (FB) that post information to help form your own opinion. I’m not sure if they’re the best or most unbiased, but it’s a start, and if I don’t like it, it’s easy to unfollow and look for more. If others have other thoughts, please share: (It’s not a long listed, I’m still learning and don’t want to be overwhelmed)
• Influencers: Beena Sarwar; Muhammad Jibran Nasir
• Facebook Community: International Voice for Baloch Missing Persons; Massachusetts Peace Action, local university students’ associations(you can find a local one)
• Do your part in dispelling the myths about Sabeen’s murder – There’s a campaign to blame everything from terrorists, to random thugs on the streets, to personal vendetta. Let’s be realistic and connect the dots. Sabeen was murdered after she held a talk on Baluchistan, on an issue that the Pakistan army doesn't want to address. Her murder follows a trend of assassinations targeting voices of dissent. Question what you’re being fed, and spread the truth. Retweet, post on FB, write an editorial in your school newspaper, or blog about what you've learned about these trends.
• Talk about things – I’m not saying organize a mass protest, but invite 3-4 friends over for chai and talk about what’s happening in Pakistan. And yes, if it is a conversation about the new lawn exhibition, that’s fine, as long as you also acknowledge how alleged mullahs are spreading hate-speech, and your buying lawn from them is really condoning that, so stop being a dumbo and get your lawn from Gulf. See if there are some students’ associations or peace groups nearby that you can participate in. They don’t need to be South Asian – who knows what you might learn from other movements.
• Stop acting like Pakistan is the worst place in the world – Ferguson.
• Stop putting down the idealists– You think this is all just another idealist set for failure and “Pakistan ka toh koi future hi nai hai”… Fine. Keep it to yourself. It’s not easy being hopeful about Pakistan, so give us a break. Just roll your eyes and move on.  

This is where I'm choosing to be an Optimistic Pakistani. I will likely get it wrong many times and I’ll get pulled into the Jackassness again, but I've decided to make a conscious effort to try. And I’ll need support, so let’s be there for each other.

To you, Sabeen. 

Marriage and Onions

You may think this is one of those pieces about how marriage is like an onion with many layers and things to learn about each other and blah blah blah.

It’s not.

Ever since I got married, onions have suddenly become a permanent fixture in my life. You’d think it’s an onion, right? Why does it matter? Well because to me onions define many things – mostly related to the oppression of women. (I have that quintessential image of the poor woman cutting onions in the kitchen and shedding tears from the eye burn, with the double meaning or tears for her sorrows at being oppressed and having to cut onions... it's a circle). My relationship with onions was mostly of hate. I hate cutting them, I hate how they BURN like a mother... and make me tear up, I hate that it’s literally the requirement for ANY kind of food, whether it’s South Asian, Mexican, Italian – anything. I hate that it freakin’ tastes good and provides that crunch that makes kabab rolls to die for.

But within that hate is obviously the love – for the taste… and for food. So I decided to come to terms with it. I tried to work with a chopper, but that just made things messier. I washed the onion, but that lethal burn gets through no matter what. So I just came to terms with the fact that if I want to eat good food, I will just have to deal with the onions and the tears.

My life would have continued with this acceptance of the enemy, until I read about what onions have done for us in the past. Apparently if you keep cut up onions in a room, they will literally absorb bacteria and viruses, even the flu. I never tried it, but I did notice that if you leave an onion out, it rots ridiculously fast. Within a few hours it starts to smell “chemical-y”. This must be proof that they absorb more from the environment that regular veggies. I realized that onions deserved my respect. That ironically, the onion too has layers of depth. Under that smelly, tear-jerking, slippery and annoying exterior, lies this creature whose main purpose in life is to provide health… while being tasty. They're like these little saviors, demanding nothing in return (except tears!) I realized I had done onions wrong.

Then I wrote this blog and I googled the whole onion, flu connection and realized it was a hoax.

Damn you onions! You have defeated me again. I hate you, you vicious enemy!

Courtesy: Bitstrips

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Obama in Kyrgyzstan!

In case President Obama doesn't know it, he's a rock star in Bishkek. They have an entire cafe dedicated to him. No idea what's going to happen if he doesn't get elected this year!


They love him so much, they made a life-size cut-out. You ever want to shake hands with the President, come down to Bishkek!



Need a reservation? Just call and they'll have Obama waiting at the table for you!





The restaurant comes complete with a wall montage frame.





And let's not miss out on the All American, club sandwich with a ton of fries. Portion sizes may not be as big as Texas, but then people aren't either!


Topped with a perfect little cosmo!

So come down to Bishkek. You're not a true American until you've been to Obama in Bishkek!

Caveat: If you're trying to organize a business lunch meeting with the ambassador from EU, Obama cafe probably WOULD NOT qualify as a neutral zone.

*This post is dedicated to cheesiness, because really what would you do without some of it in life!:-D

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Meeting Cotton Eye Joe in Kyrgyzstan!

The Opera House in Bishkek

You know the Cotton Eye Joe song, come on now! I never thought that I would hear that kind of music in concert... Anywhere! But lo and behold, thanks to the US Airbase in Kyrgyzstan, we were exposed to the inner workings of a Kentucky-based band called the Red State Ramblers, all the way here in Bishkek!

Fortunately though, the show stoppers were students from the Aga Khan Music Initiative's "Ustatshakirt" - meaning teacher-student - exactly as it sounds! I suggest you hit play and hear the music for yourself, instead of me trying to explain it.



As for the Ramblers... well the name does say it all now doesn't it?



Ustatshakirt was where it was at though. They were true entertainers! I have no idea what this instrument was, but it's something tiny with a string attached. But transforming the robotic sounds into beautiful melody -- that's all by the players!



So, not surprisingly, the ramblings of the red state were quite tiresome, but the refreshing sounds of Ustatshakirt playing local Kyrgyz music just blew the audience away. The Ramblers did resurrect themselves a little by managing a decent collaboration. I have to admit, I had NEVER imagined I would hear the Kyrgyz musical instrument, kunz, played along with the southern banjo/guitar thing. Collectively, it was quite memorable. And really goes to show that at the bottom of it all, there are always cultural connections. You just have to look a little deeper. Maybe we can all learn to go beyond our biases... (Afshan!)

So I suppose in the end, my second trip out of "hermitude" was also successful! It really is fun being a hermit in a place where you go watch concerts and operas when you're bored!:) Kudos to Bishkek for that!

The Making of Bridezilla

Artistic rendition of myself... by me.

In case I forgot to mention, I'm getting married in June... 2012... like literally in less than 6 months.

I spent the entire month of December wedding shopping and the fancy jodas with the bombardment of sequins and zari or the sole job description of buying shoes, purses, and random little things for the entire month didn't throw me off. What did was the wedding card.

When I saw our names carved artistically in Times New Roman italicized font in matte gold paint on maroon ribbon... the "Afshan's Pithi" and "Nikkah" and "Reception, and "RSVP"... the "Insha Allah on June 23, 2012"...that's when it hit me.

Holy shit... I'm getting married.

So now every time I think about the wedding, which is really 15 times a minute, the thought process kinda goes like this:

Afshan, it's going to be ok, you can start breathing again... no really breathe... ok now you're turning blue so if you don't breathe, really that's kinda it...POOF... ok, good, breathing is back. It's ok... it's going to be ok... Mortgage... Sharing a Bathroom....Sharing a Room... Sharing SPACE... Real Life Decisions.... Having to KEEP a Job... Life for Two... Dinner for Two... Movies for two... having taxes done (SCORE!)... sharing dessert... holding hands... being able to order the large menu at a fast food restaurant and sharing the calories with less guilt... being taken care of... being loved... having companionship...... HIM.

:) I'm getting married.

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Carmeeeeennnnnnnn!

You may be wondering why there's been such a long break - or not, because you're probably not even aware about the existence of this blog. Either way, I blame it entirely on the winter. I thought Boston was cold... I didn't know that -18^◦C was even possible. Brrr! So I have succumbed to become a hermit in Bishkek - at least until the sun shines again!

On the one occasion I did get out, it was to see the French opera, Carmen - performed in Russian. Naturally, I didn't understand any of it, except the one part where the lead sings, "CARMEEEEEENNNNNNN" with a whole lot of passion. That was about all the passion there was in the show actually. This is the second opera I've been to here (the first was The Magic Flute - which was fantastic). Unfortunately this one wasn't as good, primarily because the actress playing Carmen seemed so bored of life most of the time. But on the other hand, the opera house, although super cold, is gorgeous. And just for kicks, here's a clip from the end of the Second Act (it may have been the First??). We left after the Second of Four Acts. No really the opera was good... it was Carmen. She just was unforgiveable. But oh well, enjoy the clip and hopefully once the snow melts, I'll come out of my "hermitude".

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Pakistani... American?

You know how people who move abroad usually struggle with some form of identity confusion if not crisis. For me, that never happened in the US. Of all places though, it's happened in Bishkek!

I am told I am the first "American" to have come into the organization as a volunteer. I have suddenly became an expert on America - naturally, that means dissing US politics (thanks to Sarah Palin and now Rick Perry and Michelle Bachman, that part is a piece o' cake!) My accent is fairly Americanish, my way of conduct is more informal and can be acceptable pretty much because, "Oh, she's from America, you know". And mostly when there's conversations about real development, I'm the quiet one - must be American!

I hadn't realized until recently how easy it is for me to take on that role here. In the US, if anyone DARES call me an American, I literally JUMP to say, "No, I'm actually Pakistani." It's almost a defense mechanism. Technically, I'm really not an American! But even if I were, I would always, I WILL always be a Pakistani first. But here in Bishkek, I think I will always be remembered as that American girl who came to volunteer.

Perhaps there's less of a need to defend myself as a Pakistani here, and more so as "an American". Maybe, in Bishkek, being an American is just more exciting that being a Pakistani because people are generally cool with Pakistan here. Perhaps it's the thrill of putting  up a fight and responding to a stir that makes you cling on to an identity - which is kind of a scary realization, if it's true. I would like to believe that I love being Pakistani, and saying I'm a Pakistani, because I love Pakistan.

Fortunately though, I redeemed myself a little bit. Today, I discovered a restaurant literally a block from my place that serves Chicken Karahi. (It will now be my new home). I still wholly do totally Pakistani things - like stare at people if they speak in Urdu - randomly smile at them if they look slightly desi; Live for the day when I can have a samosa; Follow Pakistani breaking news like with interest even though I know it's the same old sensational stuff; Try to livestream the Pakistan-Sri Lanka cricket match even though internet is so slow here, it's literally impossible to watch the ball travel all the way from the pitch to the boundary (you eventually find out if it's a choka from the text-based scoreboard changing).

But it still is this weird realization at the back of my head... which continues to irk me. Have I at some level accepted that a bit of America has entered my Pakistanni-ness? And if so, then is that so bad? Should I be more upset, or more accepting?

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Ain't seen nothing till you seen a fashion show in Bishkek!

Thaz right! Bring on the glitz n glamor coz we gots a fashion show in Bishkek!

Ok so my only other experience with a fashion show has been in Pakistan. It was for lingerie and only open to the "ladiss" (except the hair stylist Tariq Amin, who apparently is either genderless or just really special!). I guess the aim of that show was mostly to scandalize, but it was actually a pretty cool event. The mullahs didn't find out... otherwise they'd have gate crashed I'm sure!

The goatee cutie

Here though, like the Kyrgyz wedding that I attended recently, everything is planned and prepared to the T, focused on entertainment. There were performances by some local musicians who are really quite famous apparently, because people were going crazy. This one dude with long hair and goatee was kinda cute and sang pretty well too. Apparently he's in this new film called "I love Bishkek" which is supposed to be a milestone in local cinema.

The designer, Dilbar

The show itself was introduced with this story about a flock of birds who were supposed to be gorgeous. The birds flew all around the world and when they went over China, one of them shed a feather there and China started blossoming (perhaps literally, with the Chinese cherry blossoms!). Each design and model represented one of those birds... shedding beauty and blossoming the world.

The Ballerina

I'm actually killing it, but it was really well done. They started by reading a poem and then sharing this tale. Again, this was all translated to me from Russian, so I'm sure a lot of the beauty was lost in translation unfortunately.

The performances started with a ballet. When the ballerina walked on stage, with the white clothes and the spotlight... it literally took my breath away. She was so regal and graceful!I couldn't get the whole thing, but here's part of the performance.

We also happened to have front row seats in the house, so it was a kickass perk too. The clothes were great - amazing fusion of Kyrgyz designs on western style dresses, mostly long and flowy.

But yea, overall, it was a pretty rad evening. I know like most capital cities, Bishkek is not necessarily symbolic of everything Kyrgyz, but it was really wonderful to see the juxtaposition of culture and trend in a majority Muslim country. It shows a social tolerance and ability to treat religion as a way of life, which was truly worth admiring.

If only we could learn from the country that lost the UN Security Council seat to Pakistan!

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Political Correctness or Culture?

Every culture has its nuances that either seem awe-inspiring or just plainly strange. Lately I’ve been wondering where the line lies between culture and political correctness.

For example, if someone can’t speak the local language, then in most circumstances, people go out of our way to speak the common language and make them feel included. (Naturally, this is IF everyone does speak a common language). I’ve seen that in Pakistan, Dubai as well as in the US. But in Kyrgyzstan, that’s not the case. If you’re with a group of people who all speak Russian, they will go ahead and have their conversations in Russian, even if they know you can’t understand a word. Mind you, there’s no deliberate rudeness – if they need to give you some context about something related to you, or if they’re talking about someone you know in common, they will translate it. But if that’s not the case, generally, they’d just go on with their lives. It’s a very need-to-know kind of communication.

Initially, I thought, maybe it’s a cultural thing. But maybe our need to include, or be included is merely political correctness – not really culture.

On the one hand, I think the need-to-know thing makes sense. If someone is not going to have the context, and it would need a whole new explanation to provide the context, then why waste the time and energy? I mean, I’m sure if things were translated word to word, and even if everyone spoke in a common language, the “outsider” or non-local would probably just sit, nod and smile, not really contribute much anyway.

On the other hand, how else would the cultural knowledge transfer?

Maybe it boils down to personalities. I’ve now been on both sides of the table – even within my immediate family we speak either English (among siblings) or Urdu (with parents) and I personally feel awkward not to speak in a common language that is understood across the board (generally Urdu) when we’re all together. But then again, perhaps my family and I have all been in the PC culture for way too long.

I suppose I’ll continue with over-explaining and boring the hell out of people! But for those who don’t want to, I guess you can’t really hold it against them… right?

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Kyrgyz/Russian Wedding

Long hiatus! But not only am I back, blogs are also back in Kyrgyzstan! So unless you live under a rock... or in the western world, you probably know that there were elections in the Kyrgyz Republic (which is why I assume, blogs were blocked. I could still post a blog, but I couldn't see what I'd posted!)

Atambaev, the front-runner, won. This was an important election because it was after major ethnic riots that pretty much shook all of Kyrgyzstan last year. Uzbeks in the south were being targeted and faced a lot of violence. In cities like Osh in the south, apparently people are still afraid to leave after dark. I can only understand it as how Karachi was after BB's death. And it was horrible horrible. I hope no one has to go through that ever. But there's hope in Kyrgyzstan that Atambaev will bring about some unity, because he's in the same party as the current president, this awesome woman called Roza Otunbaeva who really brought a sense of unity amongst the people after the crisis last year.

Now the history lesson is over, so on to the first ever Kyrgyz/Russian wedding I attended!

Tables are set!

Local caviar... it's orange!

Yep... that's a whole fish... with eyes!

So weddings here are like a 6-hr long concert! There's an MC! And then there are a bunch of acts and a TONNNNNNN of speeches! Basically each table in the hall is brought up on the mic and a representative (or two or three or four!!) has to say a few words about the bride and groom. I had to go up to! Most of the things were in Russian so I didn't get the jokes, but it was jovial for sure! I'm sure the alcohol helped.

More food

The idea is that tables are set up when you enter the hall after the 'nikah" ceremony where the bride and groom sign papers and cut the cake. In the hall, you eat, drink vodka, enjoy the "concert" listen to speeches, go dance, come back, eat some more, drink some cognac, listen to more speeches, go up and dance again, come back, eat, drink some more... you get the picture.

Our "monument of love"

They also have a competition where you have to make a "monument of love" with whatever you have on the table - which is quite a bit! Our table made a pretty... um... lame one I guess. We connected two bananas in the shape of a heart, stuck a balloon to it, placed it in a candle holder with some candies and flowers... Well in retrospect, it's not that lame!

The coolest part of the wedding though, I have to say - was the bride! Apparently she is a ballerina... and heck she could move! Check it out!



RIGHT????

And apparently, no matter where a wedding is, unless there's some Bollywood in it, it's not complete! I have no idea who these gals were, but they had it down - even to the expressions. I honestly NEVER thought I would hear 'Sharara Sharara' at a Russian wedding!



There were some other really cool performances - including this one guy who can apparently play any instrument in the world! He played a flute and trumpet, and he can make the sound of the trumpet with his mouth too. It was pretty awesome. And he has a daughter who is a super violinist, but also has the voice of a goddess! If these people ever make it to those reality shows where they seek talent, they would clean the slate man. I'd have uploaded those videos also... but uploading videos takes up an entire day here! I'll try another time and update the blog.

Overall, it was a fantastic experience. We left after six hours, when they brought another round of meat and potatoes! In the end though, I guess no matter what culture it is, the general spirit of weddings was the same - lots of dancing! Hopefully we'll keep that spirit in 7 months at my wedding! (It's mostly the only part I really care about!)

But oh well - so things are so far so good here in Bishkek! Will keep writing about the new things I learn!

Onwards!

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - Small Victories

Main road to market or word - pretty Islamabad-esque!

I managed to get groceries without help! I feel supremely cool! As promised - pictures!

Local flower shop!

Look what I found on the way!!!

Also, I have amazing stalking abilities too it seems. When I left my apartment I saw a little girl carrying trash - I've been trying to figure out what the hell to do with the trash... so I decided to follow her. Just walked around behind her at a distant, felt very spy-y. Anti-climax though - the trash bins are across the street, actually on the main road. But I was pleased with my prudence, call it whatever else you may!

Crepes - although they're eaten with just powdered sugar.

Local market!

And then the adventure to the local market! The markets look exactly like anything in Pakistan would - like Sunday bazaar - all fresh food! Awesome after eating plastic for so long. I discovered that if I make my hand into a plate and pretend to putting salt, people will understand I'm looking for salt. Once I get the salt, I just have to gesture salt and pepper - and people will get that if I just bought salt, I naturally want pepper! It worked out. Most people have calculators, so they just show me the amount on it, and voila! I have groceries! With most other things, it was point and shoot really.

The one thing we have in every culture - samosa/empanada!

It's not all hits though. I bought what looked like a meat bread for lunch, and when I heated it, it smelled SO BAD that I couldn't eat it. I don't know what kind of meat it was but MAN. Damn. Unfortunately the only other thing I had was a sandwich which turned out to be ham, so I didn't eat it because aside from the fact that I can't, I just don't like the way ham smells either. So I ended up eating fruit and cake. This is a land of cakes man. They have so much cake it's crazy - it means I will have to exercise SERIOUS self control. (Wedding in 6 months man!!!)

Can you almost taste the freshness?!

I could potentially be going to Naryn today, a city in the south. It's a 5 hr drive away. Will keep you posted if it happens!

It’s All About the Context!

I learned the hard way that when you see bottled water in a supermarket in KR, don’t assume it’s still water. The more common form of drinking water here in sparkling – which I hate. So now I’ve learnt (thanks to my buddy volunteer, Faiz) that if I need to buy water, I should check the label to see if it has what I read as “He” in front of what looks like “Ra”. The sparkly one only has the Ra on it. And naturally, both bottles look pretty much similar - just for the sake of irony!

It’s very interesting to buy things purely by context. The other day, I bought what I think looks like cooking oil. It has sunflowers on it, which makes sense, and it was next to something that I could read as “olive”. I assume with the context, it must be oil. I’ll let you know if the next time I make unda, it tastes funny!

But it really does make you think right? When I was young, I wanted to imagine what it’d be like to be blind, so I blindfolded myself and tried to find my way around the house. Lasted 30 seconds, and I ended up a bruised knee. Makes you wonder who the real handicaps are right? 

This is the first time I’m in a place where literally, I have NO CLUE what’s around me or what people are saying. Thanks to Faiz, I’ve so far been able to get food etc. On Saturday I’m hoping to venture out on my own – let’s see what that brings. But I surely can now sympathize – neigh, empathize – with people who don’t understand English in our world of elitist English-ism.

Today, when Faiz and I were walking back into the office after lunch, he complimented one of the staff workers about his haircut. Now this dude is pretty animated and likes to use his hands. I have no idea what he was talking about, but at some point he pointed to my hair, and then gestured something resembling cutting with his fingers, and a few minutes later, the gestures went wild. I heard “keel” and he made a fist and started pretending to stab his neck. I still have no freakin clue what the hell that conversation was about (and why it was my head he pointed to before “keel”ing!) but I burst out laughing at my situation in general!

Almost at the end of week 1!

PS: If you're reading this on FB, you probably can't see the pictures! So visit unplanned30s.blogspot.com. Hopefully some more interesting pictures to come over the weekend!

The Kyrgyz Chronicles - So it Begins...

Finally! I have internet at home! Hallelujah! So the journey can no officially begin.

See the line of lights? That's Bishkek from the plane.

Who would have thought that the thing that I would miss the most would be the SMS sound on my phone (it's a weird bus noise that most of my family absolutely hates). The sound generally meant that the boy was texting (:-( ). A part of me wants to start a countdown to the number of days when I get back to that life (him!) - but then another part of me (the larger part I hope!) realizes that each on of these days that come in the next 6 months, will be such a unique experience that I should not even think about the ending yet. At the end of these months, another beautiful life might be starting, but until then - this is probably the only time I will ever have to be with... me. And although this state of "dissettlement" sometime really gets annoying, I know it's also a period of learning and experience that has really come as a blessing!

Ok enough emotionality and on to the real stuff! Bishkek is... interesting. My first impression, naturally started from the plane. When you look down, the first most noticeable thing is that there really aren't that many lights. Now, I come from Karachi, which USED TO BE "roshniyon ka shehar" (city of lights) and even though we're in dismal conditions back home now, there are still TONS of lights when you land there. In Bishkek, that was an early sign that the city is REALLY DARK. In fact, at work, they gave us flashlights to monitor our path on the walk home because the pavements are uneven and there are 4-ft waterholes on either side - pretty Soviet! So I keep a flashlight in my purse, which has so far come in handy.

US Air Force planes at the Manas "transition" center!

The second most noticeable thing at the airport were the numerous US Army airplanes! It was a bit much quite honestly, to see the first thing at Manas International Airport, be the US Army planes. Kyrgyzstan has a huge US Army base (which they call a transition center, but really it's a base). Bishkek, like most capital cities, is FILLED TO THE BRIM with expats too - but the planes were a bit obnoxious.

Also - EVERYTHING here is in Russian! I will need to pick it up - or I'll be in trouble!

Over the weekend, I'll take pictures of the apartment I'm in and show you why my friend accurately said that it resembles the bachelor pad of a post-Soviet commie dude! Also - promise to post more pics in general!

Onwards!

The Kyrgyz Chronicles!

If ever there’s a reason to restart blogging, it should be because I’ve MOVED TO KYRGYZSTAN! What a wild ride!

The last month has been crazy to say the least. The boy found a job in Boston, MA which is apparently now the new home! I was approached for a six-month voluntary assignment in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Given that the wedding is next year and I would have had to move from DC anyways, I figured, it’s worth a shot. Turns out, it’s a pretty exciting opportunity too! So basically, in the past three weeks, I quit my job, wrapped up life in DC (which was a whole other ball game!), moved the boy and my stuff to Boston, set him up there, went to spend a week in Houston with my family – and voila! Arrive in Bishkek Sunday morning, and here I am!

I’ll get into the details of living n all that in a bit. Right now, there’s no internet at home, but I’m REALLY hoping that that is fixed soon. Once it is – The Kyrgyz Chronicles shall begin! Wish me luck!

New Discoveries...

Today's new meal: Sloppy Joe. Yea I know I know it sounds super unhealthy, but it's not. I just bought the canned sauce, got some lean ground chicken, cooked up the chicken, threw in the sauce, added some salt and jalapenos and you've got the desi version of sloppy joe - served on brown rice. Didn't I just twist it to make it sound healthy!

On another note - the venue is set. Yep. It's done. It's the one place in Sugar Land, TX where every desi and their papa'suncle'schacha'ssaheli'snahalibahen'schachi'sdaughter gets married. But it's done. More desi weddings there = less work for me. I hope. So it's done. Now we just need to finalize the date.

On yet another note - the boy and I couldn't be MORE confused about where the future will take us though. It's probably why we went from December to March to May. I'd thought that's what happens when people who are the same age marry each other - you know same points in your career etc - but it's not. It's just about people in their early 30s in general. All my friends who are 2-5 years around this age group all have the same confusion in their heads. As I said - we planned it till it was time to get out of college and get that first job. After that... boom!

Quest for a Venue

In less than one hour, I'll be a woman on a mission (you know other than the larger mission of your life which I haven't yet figured out). This weekend, the aim is to find a wedding venue! I've made the appointments, and we've narrowed it down to 6 locations in Houston, TX (don't ask why it's H-town and not Karachi!). Tomorrow, armed a notebook and pen, I shall venture into the unknown and come back triumphant - equipped with a wedding venue and final date.

(If I don't I think my family might disown me).

Wish me luck (for this adventure that I am so not excited about but have to pretend to be regardless!)

TILL I FIND TRIUMPH!
AFSHAN THE CONQUERER

Deposed King of Nigeria

You know who I want to meet? The person who started that whole email scam about the son of the deposed king of Nigeria. Now that's messaging. I mean surely you didn't fall for it - fair enough. But imagine yourself never having heard of that scam and receiving that email. Yep, probably you'd still be like, "What bullshit!" But we've come to live in a world where we've all become skeptical. Maybe 10 years ago, when people still believed in helping the poor guy, someone fell for it.

In any case, I was thinking the other day, that damn, some person actually put thought into creating that email you know. It had the emotions, the money, the pity factor - it all worked.

In case some of you missed it, you can check out some samples of the scam email here. Oh and what you ask, made me think of this? It's Michael Scott's (from The Office) golden words, "When the son of deposed king of Nigeria e-mails you directly asking for help, you help. His father ran the freaking country!"

Sorry there isn't a better clip for this, but enjoy!