Kyrgyzstan, By Me

When the night has come and the land is dark, the moon won’t be the only light you’ll see in the night sky of Issyk Kul, Kyrgyzstan. You’ll get the Milky Way, a million stars and even some random things moving around up there. I joined a small Korean group tour (as a DEI traveler who knew a couple of them) to Kyrgyzstan, and returned home a few days ago. Let me tell you about it. And let me tell you at the start, I’m no expert. And though I’ve taken several group tours, they’ve only been with Koreans.

Group tours are sold on TV in Korea, and the promotional programs can stoke wanderlust for any far-flung locale, especially if you’re watching in HD. You can save money. You don’t have to worry about logistics. And wherever you go, Korean tour groups will make sure you eat a Korean meal, twice a day on average. (Can’t control the hotel breakfast buffet.) I’m SURE that a Korean group tour of Antarctica could find a Korean restaurant there, that no-one else knows about. Not my cup of “cha” to be sure, but you win some, you lose some in a group tour.

As your tour unfolds, or unravels, your tour mates become like characters setting up an Agatha Christie murder mystery - the Korean guide with a young Kyrgyz wife, the tireless energetic Kyrgyz woman who serves as a liaison, the quiet, sporty 30-ish woman traveling alone, the two twenty-something sisters with tragic plastic surgery, one upstairs and one downstairs (mostly taking pictures of themselves looking fashionably bored, but their parents seemed to enjoy everything immensely), the bulky playboy with his trophy wife who looks like a tennis pro, three sisters in their 50s as noisy as their husbands are silent. And a white guy.

Manas Airport in Bishkek looks exactly how a Soviet airport should look. A poster on the wall says, “We are against corruption,” which makes me think they are secretly for it. The officials, in military uniforms, look ready to parade after battling the mujahideen. The women smile and the men bark, but hey, they expedited my entry because of my US passport. Not so fast, Korean guys!

There are a lot of O! stores in the country and other phone companies like Shat Mobile (really) and Crazy Bish. Everyone had a phone, I guess, but they weren’t looking at them, not the way we do. Bit of a time warp feeling. People walking, having conversations. I remember that world. It felt good to be there, engaged in the moment or somesuch.

Dusty Kyrgyzstan could use a new electric grid, a coat of paint, some sweeping, and they mostly prefer the original squatty potties - it will be a nicer trip if you pack some Charmin®️ (just don’t squeeze it until you’ve paid for it.) And you have to watch where you’re going. A lot of obstacles are about. In the city of Karakol, I noticed a few open manholes on the sidewalk. But the landscape is quite beautiful and varied - dry areas full of lavender and apricot trees to the mountainous areas spilling wildflowers and edelweiss into the meadows. The range of fruit and veg is A to Z excellent, and they eat a lot of meats Americans won’t. Didn’t see much cheese, which surprised me, and let me down.

There’s some nostalgia for that time they played on a big-team. Lots of Soviet memorials, a huge red star made of flowers in Bishkek, and you often see things like this:

And they hold onto some of the old big-team heroes. They carved Yuri Gagarin (not a local) in stone in the middle of nowhere and his head’s on a pedestal in a pasture across the road too.

In this rural area, Issyk Kul, you can ride beautiful horses, see what a yurt is, look for dangerous animals, or dare to knock on this door:

Yurt Depot. You can do it. We can help.

A Leonard Cohen song came to mind:

Sorry this has been quite the girthy brochure. Group trips are like that. A lot gets thrown at you, and you’re not going to like all of it. Now let’s relax, raise a toast and say goodbye, with:

“One bottle and you’re a clansman.”

Or we could toast with Pepsi, like they do after weddings. (Thanks for reading/looking.)