Osh

Narim, the Kyrgyz soldier drops me off just outside of Osh where he makes his final final delivery, a bag of rice, to his dad. I meet his dad, Johnnybek, who agrees to give me a lift into town. We get talking and within two minutes he’s asking me if I want cocaine, opium, dope, girls and anything else he can think of.

I politely decline and he invites me to stay at his place. After a bit of back and forth in Kyrgyz between Jonnybek and the woman sitting in the back of the car (Tonic), we stop at a block of apartments. As I walk outside with Jonnybek, he tells me I can’t stay with him tonight, he’s going to be f*cking the woman sitting in the back of the car, but he’s driven me to a very cheap hotel where I can spend the night.

I wait outside while Johnnybek speaks with the Russian women running the hotel about the rate for the night, he tells me if they get a whiff of the fact that I’m not a local, the price will skyrocket. He comes back out, tells me it’s 200som and that he’ll pick me up in the morning at 8 and tells me to leave the bag in the car. I don’t even hesitate in trusting someone I’d only met ten minutes earlier with the majority of my possessions and bid him farewell. The last thing he says before I leave is to not go out after dark, it’s a dangerous neighbourhood. In fact I shouldn’t go out at all and he asks the woman at the hotel to escort me to the shop to buy some food for dinner, and to return to the hotel straight away.

Once he’s gone, I go outside to find somewhere to eat, on my way out, the hotel owner tells me to not be outside after dark. After I finish dinner and chat with the owner of the cafe, he also tells me that it’s dangerous after dark. Third time’s the charm and I decide to return to the hotel, unharmed.

I encounter Soviet era toilet paper for the first time. It looks and feels just like sandpaper, be warned should you journey to this fine land.

At some point in the middle of the night, some drunk idiot bangs on my door for five minutes asking me if I have a lighter, I reply that I don’t and fall back to sleep. Two minutes later he’s banging on the door again, asking me if I have matches. I string together enough cuss words to make a sailor blush. Mistaking me for an authentic Russian, he invites me to drink with him. I tell him to piss off and he finally takes the hint, leaving me to spend the night battling Osh’s mosquitoes.

The following morning Johnnybek wakes me at 8, as agreed and takes me to see the town’s sights. Before we leave, he recounts the previous night’s shenanigans to me. While I wait in the car, he chats with the woman running the hotel, and afterwards tells me she offered to sleep with him for 100 som, he said he’ll take her up on it later. She is over fifty and incredibly overweight, as was the woman sitting in the car the previous evening, I think I know his preference.

We climb Solomon’s Throne, a small mountain smack bang in the middle of Osh, visiting the museum at the top. For once, I pay the local price and am glad I speak Russian.

The view from atop Solomon’s Throne, Osh sprawls out into the distance in all directions.

Making a stop by the bazaar, where fruits and berries are incredibly cheap, I devour a couple of kilos of cherries and raspberries. Following the rather lazy day, we head over to Johnnybek’s, drink copious amounts of Vodka and eat kebabs.

Johnnybek’s place of residence is no ordinary house or apartment. He’s retired from the military and has taken up a job as nightwatchman at a childcare centre out near Osh’s airport. There’s a couch set up in the administrators office and a hard bed outside, I choose the outside bed wanting to sleep under the stars. Osh’s mosquitoes return at night and I’m back at war.

Sunset in Osh, Kyrgyzstan