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.
Resting and reuniting in Naryn
Remember this crew?
Kazu, Satori, and I had first met in Almaty, Kazakhstan through a two-day hiking trip organized by Steppe Spirit. We tackled a long and challenging hike in the Tian Shan mountains together and feasted over delicious pan-fried laghman noodles.
We also got to make dinner together one night “Japanese-style”, a type of meal that I love for its simplicity and playfulness. It’s always fun to eat with your hands, and we’d create several toppings (scrambled eggs, ground beef, cucumber, tuna) to top off our seaweed and rice rolls
Dinner at Kazu and Satori’s rented apartment. One of the best meals I’ve had thanks to the good company and good food.
I was feeling quite burned out after bouncing from town to town around Kyrgyzstan, even though I’d only been there for two and a half weeks. I had enjoyed my hikes and made friends with fascinating people, but I’d forgotten how mentally exhausting it can be to always be planning ahead and making sure that I have somewhere to sleep that night, researching how to get from town A to town B, having all the emergency supplies for my hikes, all while getting enough nutrition and rest each day to stay healthy.
I had just arrived to my next destination Naryn and was struggling to decide what to do. One option was to add on a multi-day hike to Kel-Suu, a spectacular alpine lake that is hard to get to and therefore quite expensive, that is often deemed one of the highlights of Kyrgyzstan. Another option was to skip Kel-Suu and make my way from Naryn (east side) to Osh (west side) in order to base myself close to the hikes in Western Kyrgyzstan.
I had just come from Kochkor to get to Naryn (more on that later). As you can see, the route back to Bishkek retraces the same road to Kochkor (compare with the map below).
Unfortunately it wasn’t quite as easy to get from Naryn to Osh, and I was feeling overwhelmed trying to decide what to do. On the map it seems quite easy to go from Naryn to Osh, and some travel blogs had verified that it was possible to get a marshrutka to take you from Naryn to Osh with potentially a single change of buses between the two cities. In reality, it was a lot more difficult and expensive than that - the journey would require a shared taxi and two marshrutkas totaling a journey of at least 12 hours on extremely bumpy road. The other method to get to Osh was to take a marshrutka back to Bishkek (north) and then fly from Bishkek to Osh (30 min flight), and this method was actually cheaper than the first! But in taking a marshrutka back to Bishkek, I’d be retracing the road I had just taken to get to Naryn*.
The bus route and more expensive way to Osh. Not pictured are the 2-3 bus changes that occur on this route, nor the unpaved bumpy road.
The option I ended up taking - bus back to Bishkek and flight to Osh. This ended up being cheaper than what it would’ve cost to take the bus all the way to Osh!
I was beating myself up for not realizing all of this sooner and vacillating on what to do. I took a quick peek at my phone to see if the screen could magically give me an answer when I received a message from Kazu out of the blue. Kazu and Satori had just arrived in Naryn and were planning on resting in town before making their way back to Bishkek. Holy smokes! The universe was providing me with a direction of connecting me with friends right when I needed it. The odds!
It turns out that we were all feeling quite similarly and grateful to be able to spend time together just relaxing without any pressure to “do something”. It was so nice to be with people who understood what it’s like to be a long-term traveller. As wonderful as it is to be able to travel the world, it can sometimes be tiring and it doesn’t always feel appropriate to publicly voice that sentiment since I know I’m privileged to be able to do this type of travel in the first place.
On the marshrutka back to Bishkek.
We ended up taking the marshrutka back to Bishkek and spent the evening cooking dinner and catching up on our recent travels. What a gift it is to have friends all over the world and to be able to completely relax in each others’ company!
Eating dinner together at Apple Hostel in Bishkek - Japanese-style obviously!
Ending the day with a sweet treat from the supermarket. Nothing more exciting than supermarket ice cream!
Some more anecdotes about transportation in Kyrgyzstan…
Flying to OshI ended up flying to Osh the next morning on a quick 30 min flight. Buying the flight ticket had been confusing - fellow travelers had said the ticket wouldn’t cost more than $30 USD but all the Google searching I’d done had only yielded tickets upwards of $100 USD - I didn’t know what I was doing wrong!
It turns out the airlines that operate the Bishkek to Osh route on a budget are local Kyrgyz airlines that are not up to EU aviation standards and therefore don’t necessarily show up on Google searches. I had to ask someone for the names of those airlines (the one I flew is TezJet) and go directly to their website to buy a ticket.
The TezJet plane was one from my early memories of flying - everything was a bit outdated and the airplane was definitely a model that is no longer used in the US! I was so tired and subsequently conked out during the entire flight, so I didn’t experience any of the shaking or turbulence that is allegedly a regular occurrence on these Kyrgyz budget airlines.
Hitchhiking to NARYN* Ah yes, so I might've hitchhiked my way to Naryn instead of taking the marshrutka (sorry Mom and Dad!)
I had just come back from a two-day hike near Kochkor and was ready to make it to my next destination Naryn, which would be the base for more hikes (which as you know, I ended up not doing).
Taxi and bus drivers in Naryn are notoriously known for inflating prices for foreigners, so I confirmed the 300 som fare with my guesthouse. However once I got to the bus station, I was told the fare was 500 som and the drivers were unwilling to bargain.
Some travelers adopt the mindset of “oh well the difference is only a couple of USD so I’ll just eat the cost” but I try to avoid that mindset for several reasons: 1) I have no income so budgeting is extra important to me, 2) the cost of living varies from country to country so while $1 USD might not get you much back home, it can sustain you longer abroad in certain countries, and 3) the principle of things.
A local young man saw that I was struggling to bargain with the drivers and stepped in to help. He also was unsuccessful in negotiating a better rate for me even though the local passengers next to me were paying the regular fare. During our conversation he shared that sometimes when the locals see tourists, they see money rather than people and try to make as much money as possible. Obviously this isn’t unique to Kyrgyzstan and happens around the world, but no one likes to be taken advantage of! He ended up offering to drive me to the outskirts of town where it’d be cheaper to flag down a car headed to Naryn. I followed him to his commercial truck, which was filled with the day’s groceries, and squeezed between him and his brother as he drove out of town.
On the way out of town we started chatting in English. My new friend was eager to practice his English as he dreamed of opening his own travel agency in the future. His brother sat silently next to me as he didn’t know English, but he was friendly and made sure that I was comfortable and not squished by the produce.
Once we reached the point where the local road merged with the main road to Naryn, we exited the truck and stood on the side of the road, ready to flag down passing vehicles and ask for a ride.
I didn’t have to wait long! The first vehicle that passed was a long-distance freight truck empty of its cargo that was headed through Naryn. The truck driver said that he’d be passing through Naryn and was willing to take me for free. So, I jumped into the truck cab (very difficult - did not realize how high off the ground these are!) and said goodbye to my new friend, ready for the next adventure.
Traveling in the truck was a fascinating experience. The truck driver and I didn’t talk during the two hour ride other than me offering him some of my snacks, which he politely declined, but I think we were both content to sit in peaceful silence. It probably also was due to the fact that we couldn’t speak each other’s language).
I spent part of the ride dozing off (long drives + strong sun + high suspension = sleepy time) but had some observations along the way:
As I mentioned before, truck cabs are very very high off the ground. To even reach the first step to the cab was a stretch! I needed the truck driver’s assistance to get my backpack into the cab. Add in the high suspension and you are gently bouncing along the road - it’s almost like an amusement park ride.
It was fascinating to see the interior of the cab because it’s the driver’s living quarters while he’s on the road. There’s an entire bed behind the seats (see above photo) and some storage space above the bed as well.
It was also fascinating to get a glimpse of what life is like for a truck driver. I remember watching a documentary about a female long-distance trucker and her life on the road, and bits and pieces of that came back to me as I watched my truck driver navigate the roads. He would radio other truckers to let them know when it would be safe for them to pass another vehicle on the road, if they should slow down due to a hidden police car around the bend, or to watch out for the cow plodding its way across the road. At least I think that’s what he was saying - I’m basing this off of the visual and audio cues I put together since I don’t speak Kyrgyz. I’d like to imagine that the trucker community is friendly and kind if they are radioing each other about driving conditions and looking out for each other’s safety
Once we got to Naryn, the driver pulled into the town’s outskirts and helped me bring my bags down (high cab - remember?). He was so kind and I’m incredibly grateful for his generosity. I then made my way to my guesthouse and funnily enough was waved down by a woman whom I had met in Almaty, Kazakhstan! She ran across the street to say hi before I continued my walk to my guesthouse.
I had always wanted to try hitchhiking because it seems like something a “real” backpacker would do (yes, I know that there is no such thing as being a “real” or “fake” backpacker). I’d never attempted it previously because well, safety concerns, especially being a solo female traveler and stranger danger. I’ve met plenty of solo female travelers who have had no issues, but I’ve also heard horror stories and tend to be more risk averse. I don’t know if I’ll hitchhike by myself again, but I’m glad I tried and had a good experience with it. It was a nice reminder that there are good and kind people out there.
The view from the truck cab. There was a lot of beautiful scenery along the drive, and it was cool being able to see it while situated so high off the ground.
Feeling at home in Yrdyk, Kyrgyzstan
Historically food has been the primary way for me to explore a new destination and experience local culture while traveling. What’s been interesting about this trip so far is that I haven’t really explored the local food scene as much as I would normally - normal being a “typical vacation”. A large part of this is because I’m planning on traveling for a while (…potentially for the foreseeable future - sorry Mom and Dad!) and as a result it’s more economical to cook*, or more accurately assemble foods, especially when embarking on multi-day treks or taking long bus rides from point to point.
*Cooking is a bit of a stretch word to use when I’ve been eating salads (so much delicious fresh produce) or packing sandwiches and hearty snacks for long treks
Here is an example of a typical salad I’ll have for lunch or dinner. The local favorite is tomato and cucumber, but I’ll usually add corn and/or peaches. I love that produce here is fresh, cheap, and (I think) organic.
When I found out that there was an opportunity to join a traditional dinner in a village near Karakol, a popular hiking destination in Eastern Kyrgyzstan where I was based, I jumped at the opportunity. I had just finished a three-day trek to Alakol Lake and welcomed the idea of sitting down to a meal with a local Dungan family, especially after I found out that the Dungan people are ethnically Chinese Muslims who migrated to Kyrgyzstan 164 years ago. After being away from home for three months, this seemed like an opportunity to get a taste of home.
We drove to the Dungan village of Yrdyk, which was established in 1877 by the early immigrants from China, known as 回族 in Chinese. There we visited the local museum where the elderly docent shared information about the history and legend of the Dungan people and showed us important artifacts from this village. Upon walking into the museum, I felt a rush of emotion at seeing a banner with traditional Chinese characters hanging from the wall, Chinese art, and large bamboo steamers. It was heartwarming to see and be surrounded by familiar objects in a place so far from home. This feeling would only grow as the docent continued to speak about Dungan culture and customs. It turns out that they speak an old dialect of Chinese that sounds most similar to Cantonese - more on that in a bit when we get to the main course! They also use bamboo steamers to create 包子 filled with meat and vegetables, have similar styles of embroidery and art, and viewed foot binding on women as a sign of beauty.
We also learned about the legend of the Dungan people, and the docent was quick to remind us that what he was about to tell us was legend, not fact. Here’s a quick summary about the legend of how the Dungan people came to be:
The Emperor of China (not sure which one) dreamed of being attacked by a monster but was then saved by some man. When the Emperor shared this dream with his advisors and described the man who saved him from the monster, his advisors identified the man as the Prophet Mohammad.
As a result, the Emperor invited Mohammad to visit China. Mohammad wasn’t able to come so he sent three of his students in his steed, and these students traveled from Saudi Arabia to China accompanied by a large army. The journey was long and hard so only one student ended up making it alive to China.
After residing in China for three years, the Arab army yearned to go back home. However the Emperor wanted the army to stay to help protect his borders (the Great Wall) against the Mongols. Being the smart man he was, he asked his wife for advice on how to keep the army in China. She said that the best way to keep them here would be to have them marry local Chinese women so that the army men could create their own families in China.
The Emperor hosted a banquet for the Arab army and invited the most beautiful Chinese women for the men to choose as wives and start new families. So, the legend of the Dungan people was born - Dungans come from Arabian fathers and Chinese mothers; their religion is inherited from their fathers, their culture from their mothers.
After visiting the museum we took a very quick drive around the corner to the home of the family hosting us for dinner. They live in the first building that was erected when the Dungan Village was founded back in 1877. We were greeted with a beautiful table setting that was already filled with food and fruit. I had heard that we’d be eating a many dishes, and I couldn’t wait!
Okay enough about ashlan-fu - back to the Dungan family dinner!
We had several dishes to share and each one reminded me a little bit of home. Because the Dungan originated from China, they used a lot of similar flavor profiles as Chinese cooking. Almost all of the dishes evoked a sense of my parents’ home-cooked food and made me nostalgic for their cooking.
After dinner we were introduced to Dungan wedding traditions, and the host brought out a set of wedding clothes for the group to try on.
We ended the night with full bellies and lots of laugher, and it was a lovely way to end my time in Karakol.
I’m grateful to a chance meeting with a woman on the street - I noticed she was a foreigner and we got to talking, and she is the one who recommended I check out this activity sponsored by Destination Karakol, the local community-based tourism organization.
Hiking three peaks in the Tian Shan Mountains
One of my favorite hikes in Kazakhstan was a hike that covered three peaks - Furmanov Peak, Panorama Peak, and Shymbulak Peak, all around 3000m in height. I had the opportunity to hike this in early July with two friends I had made during my Steppe Spirit trip, Kazu and Satori, who are traveling from Japan. We had bonded during the Steppe Spirit trip and wanted to end our time in Almaty with one last hike in the beautiful Tian Shan mountains. I hope you enjoy the photos!
