I parked my car at a tire shop in the city, got out, and began scanning the faces of all the people milling about, trying to determine who worked there for one (as opposed to who were customers) and out of the workers, who spoke Kyrgyz (as opposed to those who spoke Russian). Another customer … Continue reading Tire Shopping
Their Cold Hands
If meteorologists ever conducted a study on the climate surrounding the enormous bazaar near our house, I wouldn't be surprised if they found that it adversely affects surrounding weather conditions. During the winter, somehow as soon as you step foot inside, the temperature drops by at least double digits. Must have something to do with … Continue reading Their Cold Hands
The Old Car at the Bazaar
I parked the car at the construction bazaar near our house. I clutched my phone where I had made my list. I was focused. I was unstoppable. My black coat was zipped and my signature checkered hat was pulled low. I was prepared to argue in the local language over prices if I had to. … Continue reading The Old Car at the Bazaar