Thursday 19 February 2009

Kyrgyzstan Pt.5 A bit about Osh

he Walkabout Blog

I've got a little bit more to say about Osh ...

I know I've made the statement about liking some places before, but I did like Osh. I could wax lyrical about many things, but do think it was all pretty simple stuff, so will list a few of the more obvious reasons. Beer, women, food and weather. That might even be the order of preference too.

I will now go on to enlarge on each of these as headings here ... though before that will add one more to the list. People. I quite liked the people too, who were generally friendly. In comparison to the population of Bishkek, I did feel a few more degrees of warmth from the Osh'ites. Maybe they reflected the climate at the time we were visiting this city, where each day the weather crept up the thermometer into the red-zone marked hot. The temperature would hit mid to late thirties Celcius by late morning, with few clouds ever being spotted in those clear blue skies above the city for the duration of our stay.

A few upbeat words about item no. 3, the food ... With us eating out around half the time in one of the numerous local restaurants, we also opted to save a few bucks by using our make-shift apartment kitchen as much as possible. The market was close, providing us with a good choice of fresh fruit and veggies, and enough other ingredients for a variable menu to feed me n' my travel buddy Bjorn. The market was a bustling place, though was a fairly haphazard layout where you needed to hunt out the best or cheapest produce. A routine was soon established and we found we could usually pick up most of our daily needs in 20 minutes or so. As was often the case in most parts of Central Asia, the tomatoes here were always delightful, giving us a choice of eating them as a salad ingredient, or with a bit of preparation in removing skins were also good for tomato-sauce based meals.

Then we come to the Women, who feature as no. 2 in the hit parade above, and who's facial features were largely pleasing to my eyes. Those light-coffee coloured ladies would frequently wear bright colours to reflect their generally outgoing nature. I will add though, that I'm talking about the ordinary women as seen in the streets or working in shops and restaurants. There were other girls too ... who worked in quite a different way, but found they mostly spoiled their appearance by wearing just a little too much make-up and showing just a little too much cleavage ... Central Asia as with many parts of the world is a melting pot of tribes and here is evidenced from a mix of Eurasian and Oriental. The result is people with soft round faces, and most especially many of the women I encountered, who had a predisposition to smile. A pleasant change from the frowning hardness and folded arms of many Brit-bird's, that sends a clear message. 'Keep out'.

Not every lady caught my attention in a positive way though, and here will say a little about the hospitality service in our hostelry of choice while resident in Osh, the Alysh Hotel. In not being able to find a good enough internet connection so that I could have a Skyped conversation with any of my friends or family, made arrangements to have a chat with my bro. in law on the land-line of the hotel one afternoon. In his last email he assured me it shouldn't be too expensive, so long as we didn't lose track of time. From that took myself down into the lobby and made enquiries about the land-line number of the hotel, after which I directly SMS'ed it to the UK and settled down to await a phone-call. Within a minute or so the phone rang and I watched as the girl behind the desk answered it. This was the same girl that gave me the number only moments before. Upon picking up the receiver she spoke a couple of words, then hesitated and looked across at me. Seeing as she looked across I guessed that it was probably my brother in law and so was expecting to be called over. This however didn't happen and she replaced the receiver onto it's cradle and went back to staring off into blank space. I reflected that I was wrong and that it must have been someone else on the line. Perhaps it was a wrong number? But something told me, this was not so and was in fact the call I was expecting.

With a further fact that the telephone in the Alysh wasn't exactly a hot-line of potential guests trying to book one of hotels luxurious 5-star apartments, and along with the timing of this call, I speculated that to get a wrong-number call come in at that particular moment, was spectacularly coincidental. Two minutes go by and my moby vibrates. An SMS message. And it's my bro. in law Norman. It says he's just called ... and got a lady talking Russian or some equally indecipherable tongue, who put the phone down on him.

Oh well, I'll give her the benefit of the doubt and so go up to the desk and tell her I'm expecting a phone call. In texting back to say 'try-again', actually stand waiting at the desk to make sure there is no mistake that the next time it rings, it's for me. The phone rings. She answers. Again, the brief pause ... she frowns, but gives no sign of passing over the phone and so ask her directly "Is it for me?" I don't know why, but get the distinct impression she's going to put the phone down again, and so I put my hand out expectantly. Again, a moment's hesitation, but eventually the receiver is given over to me. And yes ... it's my call. Perplexed at such odd behaviour, briefly mention it to my bro in law. Nevertheless we go on to have our conversation without wasting too much time wondering what that was all about, choosing instead to pass each others news back and forth.

Ten minutes go by and am conscious of the time. But might add it's from the point of view of not wishing to lumber my Sis & Bro.in.Law with a hefty phone-bill, not because I'm using what appears to be the one and only hotel phone. In the past few days, the turnover of guests along with other time spent in the lobby told me the phone didn't get too much use anyway ... But it mattered not, as the lady behind the desk took it on herself to begin staring at me. Once I realised this was what she was doing, initially felt I should finish soon. Then while I continued to talk or alternatively listen, occasionally checked to see if she was still looking. She was. Part of my mind was stolen to note her expression was devoid of any emotion. There was no way of telling what was going behind those cold eyes, so chose to ignore her and selfishly carry on with what I was doing. More minutes passed and it was evident that by ignoring her, it meant she was going to become more persistent. She moved closer ... I looked back at her while at the same time continuing my conversation. She now had more of my attention and told my brother-in-law a little of what was happening. Was she going to say anything? Not yet apparently ... She continued to stare, but now the expression had the slightest hint of malevolence. She broke off eye-contact for a moment to look down at the main body of the phone. Was she going to put her hand out and cut me off I wondered? She looked intent on something mischievous, so asked my bro. in law to hold, and I then asked her if she wanted something? The direct approach seemed to work and she backed off, but not for long as she soon resumed the evil stare once more.

Because of her inept methods of trying to get the phone back, decided to ignore her totally and would finish the conversation in our own time. I could tell from her demeanour this didn't go down well at all. I'd upset her, though you'd be hard-pushed to tell by that blank expression. It was subtle but there were enough signs to see she was angry. That Contrary inside me was quite happy at her ire and continued to wind-up my phone call in my own good time and finally said my goodbyes.

Once I'd finished I could have just walked away, but chose instead to give her some Oz-lip and told her how bloody rude she was to try and interrupt my conversation. I don't think she understood a fraction of what I said, but it mattered little as I said what I did purely for my own self-satisfaction. She tried to respond, but it was too little and too late, as I was already leaving. She'd spent too many years practicing her blank expression that sent out a message to anyone watching that she didn't care about anything, so was inhibited at reacting appropriately to reflect her true feelings. Nevertheless she was furious and even though my parting was with some light hearted banter and a smiling face, I could see that I left her fuming.

I'd not taken too much notice of her before, but afterwards watched her since whenever I was walking through the lobby. In measuring my earlier comments about the aesthetics of the ladies of Osh, she wasn't unattractive. But that dull emotionless gaze exuded ugliness. Rarely have I seen such energetic apathy. Every movement, every expression seemed to be one of extreme boredom. There wasn't the slightest hint of a smile or anything upbeat going on in her brain judging by the blank facial expression. It's hard not to think derisively, that people like that are going nowhere and will achieve little in their lives. At least the people outside in the local markets are engaging in life, and doing something active. From what I was able to observe this girl did absolutely nothing positive with her day. Something like 99% of her time at work seemed to be spent moping behind the hotel desk or slouched in front of the TV watching Rusky based soap-operas. To me it was bloody depressing and initially thought of it as waste of life. But then further thinking led me to consider this is likely to be one of the left-over symptoms from the Soviet era. Back then there were no incentives. No reward for hard-work or doing a good job. She would get the same whether she was a good receptionist or not. I fear it's too late for her, but maybe successive generations will discover something called job-satisfaction. When that happens The Alysh will either be a pile of rubble, or it's dingy interior renovated into luxury apartments ... Maybe the most important thing though, is that there's someone on the desk who knows how to smile occasionally.

No comments: