A story about kindness and 48 hours in Bishkek
Before I share some postcards from Bishkek, let me tell you a story about the journey to get there and the kindness of the locals I met along the way.
I ended my three weeks in Kazakhstan in Shymkent before making my way over to Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan and the beginning of my month-long adventure in the “Stan” most well-known for its hiking routes and scenic mountains.
Most of my travel research is done through a mixture of travel blogs, with the occasional aid of Lonely Planet Central Asia (the latest edition is only from 2018) and word-of-mouth recommendations from fellow travelers. So when I needed to figure out how to get from Shymkent, Kazakhstan to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, I conducted some very thorough Google searching and reached out to my Couchsurfing hosts for advice. It seemed like the best way was to call a shared taxi to take me from Shymkent to Bishkek which didn’t seem too bad - after all, if you look at a map, the drive looks pretty straightforward, right?
The plan was for my Couchsurfing hosts to call a shared taxi that would pick me up and drive me to Bishkek. Shared taxis are a popular form of transportation in Central Asia; they take multiple people, who may or may not know each other, to the same destination. Think of it like an Uberpool, except you’re all going to the same place.
My host called the shared taxi around 8:30 in the morning…and the driver cancelled an hour later. No other drivers were making the drive to Bishkek so a shared taxi was no longer an option. The back up options were to take an overnight bus from Shymkent to Bishkek (which only ran once a week and honestly the beds in the bus looked quite unclean) or an overnight train from Shymkent to Almaty (east of Bishkek), and then a four hour bus from Almaty to Bishkek. However, that overnight train also only ran a couple of days a week, and not on the day I needed to go to Bishkek.
So I made a new game plan: I’d make my way to the Shymkent bus station, and figure out a way to get to Bishkek. After all Bishkek is the capital of Kazakhstan and one of the major cities in Central Asia - surely there would have to be some way to get there.
Turns out, it wasn’t that easy. Since there was no direct bus to Bishkek, I figured that the best thing I could do would be continuing to make my way eastward, working my way towards Bishkek little-by-little.
At the Shymkent bus station I found a marshrutka (local mini buses in the form of a Mercedes sprinter van) that would take me to Taraz, about two hours east of Shymkent and thus two hours closer to my final destination.
My eventual journey from Shymkent to Bishkek.
I had no clue how I’d get to Bishkek from Taraz and was already starting to panic. I was one of the first people to sit in the marshrutka, and they don’t leave for their destination until they are full which can sometimes take an hour! It was already noon by this point, and I had no idea what the bus situation would be like in Taraz.
In the middle of my panic, a young woman entered the marshrutka and gave me a smile before sitting next to me. Her name was Julie and she was headed to Taraz to celebrate her friend’s baby shower. Because she had studied abroad in Germany and Spain during a university international exchange program, she spoke English fluently. We shared bits and pieces of our lives, including my mission to make it to Bishkek, and discovered that we both had a shared love for traveling.
The drive to Taraz was stuffy (A/C in a marshrutka? Pfft!) and bumpy (the road infrastructure outside of Almaty isn’t great) so I could feel my eyelids fluttering shut. I could hear the low murmurs of Julie talking with someone on the phone and let that lull me into sleep.
I naturally woke up when we were 15 minutes way from Taraz. Julie saw that I was awake and shared that she had given her parents a call to ask them how I could make my way from Taraz to Bishkek. It turns out that her family was originally from Taraz but had moved to Shymkent in order for the children to go to university there. I was stunned. This random stranger cared enough about me to call her parents and ask them for ideas on how I could get to Bishkek - what?!
Julie had learned from her parents that there was a marshrutka that could take me from Taraz to Korday, the border town between Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan, and from Korday it should be easy to take another marshrutka from Korday to Bishkek (see above map). As we got closer to the Taraz bus station, my hopes increased - maybe I would make it to Bishkek tonight - no, I would make it to Bishkek tonight!
When we arrived at the bus station, Julie walked with me around the bus station, asking locals and passengers if they could direct us to the marshrutka to Korday or to a bus to Bishkek, if such a bus existed. An older woman who looked like a babushka (Russian for grandmother) responded that she was headed back home to Bishkek and could make sure I made it there.
I finally had a concrete way to get to Bishkek! I turned to give Julie a hug. “Thank you,” I said, “Thank you so much for your help and for going out of your way to help me.” But I wondered, “Why? Why did you even bother in the first place?”
Julie smiled. She shared that when she studied abroad in Spain and Germany, she struggled navigating how to travel internationally but so many people had helped her along the way. Because of this, she’s always wanted to pay it forward and help other travelers in need.
We exchanged a hug. I felt so grateful for her kindness and support and hoped that I too could pay it forward, whether that be back in New York or during my travels abroad.
Julie and I at the Taraz bus station, right before we parted ways.
Obviously I ended up making it to Bishkek. After all the title of this post does include the words “48 hours in Bishkek”. So what happened after Taraz?
Long story (kind of) short (because it’s time to get you those postcards):
It was a five hour marshrutka ride from Taraz to Korday and also a ride with no AC. I can hear my dad say, “well when I was your age…”
The marshrutka dropped us off right at the border, and the babushka, Gulgana, gestured me to walk with her to the border. She guided me to the two-stop border crossing and patiently waited for me to go through the Kazakh and Kyrgyz border stations before continuing on. She asked, using a series of hand gestures, if I needed to exchange Kazakh tenge to Kyrgyz som, and proceeded to take me to some makeshift currency exchange stations. She walked up to several stations but would dismissively “pfft”, shake her head, and walk away. Not knowing Russian or Kyrgyz, I can only assume that the rates weren’t to her satisfaction - it’s amazing how much you can understand through body language and facial expressions, even when you don’t know a language.
After the border crossing, we searched for a marshrutka that would take us to Bishkek. She paid for my bus fare (another “what?!” moment of feeling shocked at her kindness) and we got off a couple of stops early at a bazaar where there were better currency exchange rates. When the cashier wouldn’t accept my Kazakh coins, Gulgana reached into her purse to do a currency exchange with her own money.
From the bazaar, Gulgana bundled me into another marshrutka that would take me to the hostel. She empathetically reminded the bus driver to signal me when it was my turn to get off the bus before giving him money for my ticket. I shook my head, motioning that I could pay for it, but she smiled and waved me off.
As my marshrutka pulled away into the road, I could only think about what an incredible day it was. A day that started with frustration turned out to be a heartwarming experience. I was blown away by the amount of kindness I received. It was a beautiful reminder that there are humans in this world who are just genuinely good and kind people, and it inspired me to be more proactive about paying it forward.
And now, here are your postcards from my 48 hours in Bishkek!
These are just a smattering of photos I took when walking around the capital. I loved the colorful gardens around the city and was fascinated by the Soviet-era architecture that made up most of the monuments. To be honest I didn’t spend that much time in Bishkek because I was eager to make my way in the mountains, but here’s a brief glimpse into Krygyzstan’s capital.
