Itchy feet

Emrys has now been in Bishkek for two months. He has been enjoying the trips to the mountains as welll as the teaching and generally making a nusisence of himself. 

He was however sittting at the kitchen table in his shed of a house the other day and noticed Igor sitting rather forelornly in the corner- his tires flat and a growing layer of dust from the festy coal fire growing over his once shiny gear changes. His companion, Bob, is likewise growing rust of welds as she waits paitently to recconect with the road. 

His body is now well and truly rested and he has even put on a kilo or two. It is very definatley getting time for him to be moving again! Alas the snow will once more decend on bishkek this fine day and he shall resume the waiting game. 

He has been stuying his new maps of China in close detail ( well as close you can at 1 to 6 million scale) and doing his darndest to find someone else stupid enough to cycle with him for some of it. 

The Itchy feet might just been the tiniea as a result of infrequent showering...... 

Surviving Almaty

I have just been to the national musem of Kazak instrument in Almaty. I am here to chase visas so figured i would make the most of it an see some sights while i was here. I emerge from the warm building and step back into the snow. Across the way is the war second world war memorial. It is a stricking momument with all off the nations of the former USSR represented. Set someway in front of this is an eternal flame. I take a rather arty picture of the monument through the flame and then decide to take a walk through the park behind....

I here a voice call out and see a policeman beckoning me over. This will be the second passport check in two days as he asks for my papers. My visa is in order so i dont really anticipate any trouble. He keeps my visa and motions for me to walk with him. He takes me back to where i had just taken the photo. Apparently there is a porblem because i put my foot on the base of the monument to take the photo. I appoligise profusly for my mistake but he wont buy it. He wants to take me to the police station. Now i start to drag my heals.

He takes me and points to a CCTV camera implying that he has evidence. The camera points the wrong way i and i severley doubt it still has the ability to rotate to have filmed me accidently placing one foot on the monument. He wants me to walk with him but i want to keep this in the open. He asks me if i am carry narcotics or a rifle. I smile and say no. He wants me to open my bag. Now i sense that he really has nothing and that he is just fishing. I hold my ground, saying i cant give him the money now starts demanding as i dont have any.

I am starting to shiver now from standing around in the cold. The same questions, the same answers. He has nothing on me and he knows that i know this. Its rather like a poker game- whose is going to call bluff.

Eventaully he tires of my bad Russian and decides i am not worth his effort. I somewhat cheekily offer to shake his hand as he lets me go. Crooked cop nil Emrys one!

The New years visit to the Dacha

It is Sunday morning in Bishkek and the week of New years Shenaigans has begun to draw thankfully to a close. I am meeting with Salavat, one of the interns from the Alpine fund and we are off to go food shopping. We have 11 children and 2 adults to feed so i am glad when i spot the director in her car. I wasnt't looking forward to cramming it all on a bus!

The food looks enough to feed a small army- 24 loafs of Lipioshka ( Kygrz bread) 4 blocks of cheese, 2 dozen eggs, 1 kg of potatoes, salted capsicum, dill and assorted other bits and pieces- but i am sure it will be devaoured in short order. When we are done i leave Salavat to go and pick up the children while i jump on a packed marshrutka and head up to repair a few things at the Dacha before the kids arrive.

The previous weekend Tim ( my housemate) and I had made one of the windows into a fire escape. When i arrive i note the butchering job we did on the window frame and try to make a mental note to buy some putty to cover it up. I nail some of the loose planks on the front deck and soon after hear voices. 7 girls and 3 boys plus Abdibek (my english student) decend on the Dacha.

The next two days are a riot of excitable children. On the first afternoon i watch as they make tobbogans out of anything they can find ( plastic bags mostly) and hurtle down the slope a short walk from the Dacha. The following day they return to the dacha battered and bruised- nothing malacious- just the result of a day spent ice skating.

Monday night is a games night. I rack my brains for ideas that will work in the confined space of the Dacha. The kids have a ball trying to circumnaviagte the table, trying to move a box of matches while supporting themselves with one hand and playing coin soccer. Salavat also has a host of games which i hope i can remember for the next time i am there.

On their second night, exausted from the absence of sleep the night before, the kids sleep soundly. I am the first up and have said i will cook pancakes. They are all done and it is 930 and the kids are still sound asleep! I send the one awake boy down to the spring to fill up the buckets with water. They eventaully emerge and scoff the rather heavy (you cant't but Self raising flour in Kygstan) pancakes in short order.

The weather has turned a bit average and so we do some more games inside. Soap hockey nearly ends in a brawl so we end that rather qucikly. Refelcting i dont think it ever did not end in a fight whenever i played it either! Note for next time. A blindfold obsticle course in the garden and another run of tobogoning and its time for me to leave. I am off to the Kazak emabssy to pick up my visa. The joys of visa's in ex-soviet states in a story for another day...

"Thank you (for) making us smile" says the poster that the kids have hung on the wall in the Dacha. "Thank you for making me smile" i say to myself as i look at some of the crazy pictures the kids have taken with my camera.

www.alpinefund.org

The Alpine Fund

I have hung up the cyling boots for a couple of months and have settled into Bishkek, the capital of the smallest 'stan, Kyrgzstan. At present i am teaching english 4 times a week. Twice to the children who work at the markets in Bishkek and twice a week to boys who have left one of orphanges and are being helped out by the Alpine fund to settle into thier new lives.

The organisation i am working for is called the Alpine Fund. It was set up by an American mountainer several years ago. The idea was to use the amazing mountains that make up 90% of Kyrgzstan's land area to teach vulnerable children some life skills. The children come from several orpahanges around the city. The organistaion also work with two centres for the protection of children. These are located at the two main markets and support children who's familys work at the markets.

As mentioned above i am helping out by teaching them English. This costs very little, other than my time. Ideally however we would like to return to the original aim of the organisation which was to challange and grow the children using the mountains and valleys around Bischkek. This however does cost some money. Fuel for the bus, food for the kids etc. At present the Alpine fund is flying by the proverbiable seat of its pants with only irregular trips to the mountains for a small number of the children.


If you are interested in seeing the changes the alpine fund has made to some of the kids lives you can go to the website and read some of there stories. You can also follow the link if you wish to support the work that i and the team of other volunteers are doing here. http://www.alpinefund.org/.

Cheers

emrys

A few things i have learnt about bikes and bicycling..

So far i have learnt how to....
When cycling, blow the snot from your nose under your armpit, not over your shoulder.
Pee on the bike. Have yet to master this whilst actaully moving however.
Fix a broken chain. It will however break when you least want it too.
Mend a bent rear dropout. With a shifting spanner of course.
Chain my bike to a train window frame.

I still to learn how to pre-empt the horn blast from an approacing truck. You know its coming but it still gets you every time
Gaffa will fix everything. Even holes in a tent

The Allen key that fixes most things on your bike will be the one that you loose first.

The Jornal

I have been very studious in keeping a journal while i have traveling. It probabaly doesnt make for the most exciting reading. I do however have a line for the most memorable moment for each day. Some of these are fairly mundane but a few make for some mildly interesting reading when i refelct upon them....



Listening to Betovens grosse fuge whilst being chased by three montserous dogs

Trying to sneak in a beer during Ramadan in Turkey

Going to a Russian versus Azerbajian football and seeing the crowd throw lighted fireworks at each other

Having my hair washed by some random dude who put me up for the night

Being filmed by a Kazak TV crew drinking camles milk

Getting cracked onto by two drunk 40ish year old women

Having a group of disabled orpans dance when i played violin for them ( some of them screamed too though...)

Crawling thourgh a Kazak roof to hang wires for w new cafe.

etc........



I am now headed to Almaty to pick up my Kyrz visas. From there it on to Bishkek where i will swap the cleats for climbing shoes and teach some orphans to rockclimb over the winter.

Food for thought.....

I have been going with the rule that " if the locals eat it......it must be ok...." Only a couple of mild doeses of the trots so its seems to be working. 

The growing list of weird and waccky stuff i have eaten so far includes: 

Boiled Pigs feet- a little stange to get in a muslim country but no matter. A little greasy but palatable enough. 

Camels milk/Yougurt- not sure which it was as it had chunks in it. Rather salty but im sure i could get used to it. 

Norwigan Brown cheese- courtesy of the crazy Finns in Baku. A bit like a cross between burnt Onions and Coon ( aussie cheese). 

Chocolate butter- Like normal butter but with chocolate in it. 

Geogian wine-Sifted through a pair of grandmas dirty nickers. Rough as guts but seemed to do the trick all the same. If you skull it like you are supposed to you cant taste the leaf residue. 

Piriniki- stable food on the road in Kazasktan. Chunky buscuits with icing on the outside. 

I sure the list will contuine to grow with the trip......