We’re coming to the end of the first week
in Kyrgyzstan, and I’d say a major part of this week has consisted of getting
to know public transport in this neck of Bishkek. So right here and now, I’m going to lay down an
idea that has been forming in my mind about navigating new cities. It might have a name already, but for my
purposes I’m calling it the Narodny Principle. I have a good reason for
that, which I’ll explain shortly.
When you begin the process of familiarizing
yourself with a new place, you naturally want to find landmarks that you will
remember. The trouble comes when you
pick a landmark that is familiar without realizing that it is simply familiar because
there are multiples of the same thing and you see it all the time. This is the essence of the Narodny Principle. Your brain, which is starving for something
recognizable, latches onto that thing (a stop sign would be a little too
obvious, but that’s sort of what I’m getting at) and feasts on it. And then you take the wrong bus and stop at
the wrong version of that thing and have to take a taxi home after dark in a
strange city in the first three days you are there. At least, that’s what happened to me. But I’m getting ahead of myself.
I’m sure that the Narodny Principle does not
apply to all of you because different people have different ways of memorizing
directions. Ahem. But I’m sure that some
of you would own up to it if pressed for the truth. It’s tricky.
I was thrilled when Mira Eje took me to this nice grocery store a street
over from our flat, adorned with a big, clean red sign that said “Народны” on the
front. There were big posters outside
with grocery sales, it was well lit, it was noticeable. After she accompanied me to school and back
once and I had made a solo run in the morning, I was feeling pretty good about
the whole deal. Hop on the marshrutka,
grab the rail before it starts moving, pay, peek out the window, note your
stop, ask to stop, get off, cross the street, etc. etc. Not too bad.
So I figured I could ride down to the mall on Tuesday evening, since
that was the most familiar place besides the school, and camp out at a nice
coffee shop there to use internet and stuff.
I did that. It was great. Mira Eje said the buses would go till 10:00pm. So to make sure I got the bus, I packed up my
stuff a little before 9:00 and crossed the street to where the buses usually
come. The two buses she told me were
good to take were 110 and 210. In the
morning, they seemed to come at random every few minutes, lots of them. So I waited, but nothing showed. Waited some more. Lots of buses were coming and I was craning
my neck to see the numbers in the glare of lights, because by this time it was
after dark. It is a busy, well lit area
with lots of people. Night life, but of
a wholesome kind. But no 110 or 210
marshrutkas in sight. Well. I scanned my brain for the other numbers I
had seen on that info sheet because I knew that there were more buses that went
by my house. And I was almost certain
that 100 was one of them. Almost.
It had been fifteen or twenty mintues and I
thought maybe the 110 and 210 were done for the night. But there were so many 100s. Yes, that was it. There was a moment of decision and I got on
the bus, handing the driver my 10 som and clinging for dear life as the bus
lurched on down Sovietskaya street. The
trouble at this point was that I couldn’t remember which way we needed to turn
onto my street. And I couldn’t remember
the name of the street either. Which
now that I think back on it, is the kind of information traveling students
should tattoo on their palms before leaving the flat. I’m not going to make excuses for
myself.
Well, we turned alright. And we went down down down another
street. And after we had gone down just
a little too far, I felt, and things were not looking as familiar as I would
have liked them too, I saw a sight that made my heart leap for joy. Hapодны!
The Narodny store, in all its respectable red grocery store glory,
shining like a beacon in the night. I
asked the driver to stop, please, and got off.
But then. Then I had a small
knowing feeling inside. Because as
comforting as the sight of the Hapодны store was to me at that moment, I knew
it was a false familiarity. Where was
the kolbasa store? Where was the cross
street? I suddenly had my first very
real application of the Narodny Principle in which I saw the flaw of my choice
in landmarks. The whole city of Bishkek
is crawling with Narodny stores. It’s
the Walgreens of Kyrgyzstan, more or less.
More, probably.
At this moment, for the record, I made some
good decisions. I checked for the street
name on the side of the building.
Unfortunately, that didn’t help because I didn’t recognized the
name. Which wasn’t a good sign. However, I also chose not to panic. Because that doesn’t help and people can
smell fear on you, making you an easy target if there do happen to be any
sleazy characters around. I’m learning a
lot about projecting positive energy. At
that point I decided to take advantage of the light and safety offered by Narodny. I called Mira Eje and we
covered the basic facts in Russian. I
was lost. I was on such and such
street. She covered that basic fact that
I needed to get a taxi. But there my
Russian petered out.
I looked around
and engaged my intuition to find a good person to ask for help. Behind me was this couple who looked friendly
and in love in a fun way, the kind of way that makes you happy to help people
so long as you get to do it together.
The girl had straight, short black hair in this cute flapper-like
haircut. So I asked her for help, and
since it was a little difficult to explain, I ended up just handing her the
phone and letting her and Mira Eje sort it out.
The girl got off the phone just laughing and laughing. The guy was just smiling. They called the taxi and then stood
outside and waited with me. They stood
arm in arm just laughing and laughing. I
laughed too. The taxi came and they made
sure I was all settled before it drove away. It was about a 7-10 minute drive
home and cost 110 som, which is about $2.50.
Worth the learning experience I think, and the entertainment provided to the
couple at the store. The taxi driver was
a little, well, disdainful. I don’t
blame him really. All I know is I
learned a lot. Since then I have walked
up and down both streets and taken several more buses by day, arrived securely at both
the post office and the central square on my own, and even braved the Vefa
Center trip again at night, sticking with the appropriate bus this time and
keeping my eyes peeled for the appropriate Hapoдны store, of which I will
always have fond memories.
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