For us, going home to our 75-square meter house normally requires that we hold a stiff upper lip, put on our big boy and big girl pants, and take the plunge.... This time, however, we were heading back home with a rather different perspective.
We were driving over a bridge on a highway. Trees painted the broad valley below us in rich shades of green. It was then, looking at the trees, that I realized the reality of what was happening to me, optically speaking. I shouldn't have been able to see the trees. Vertical supports lined the length … Continue reading What’s Holding Up the World
It'd be kind of like naming an Italian restaurant "Mike's." The name of our favorite Chinese restaurant in Bishkek is Bakit, a name as common in Kyrgyz as Mike is in English. Bakit means "happiness." Our current working theory is that Bakit, or happiness, is the translation of the yellow Chinese characters above the door … Continue reading Bakit’s Chinese Restaurant
We stood in the customs line at Rome's Fiumicino International Airport. A sign said E.U. citizens to the left. Visa holders to the right. Everyone else in the middle. We were in the middle—and longest—line. Ahead of us stood a young Korean American couple. They were chatting with two middle-aged women who were just ahead … Continue reading From Mere Illusions to Real Magic
It was 5:00 AM. Friends of ours were leaving for the States, and we had agreed to take them to the airport. At its best, the drive is absolutely dreadful. It's especially so at 5:00 AM. (But I'm quick to throw anything taking place at 5:00 AM in the "dreadful" category.) See, from where we … Continue reading The Ride
We live on the northern side of the capital, literally on the last street before you find yourself outside city limits. Because of the fact that a mountain range rests just south of the city, here to drive south is to drive up since you're literally increasing your elevation the more south you go. And … Continue reading Driving Up South
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