We didn't think the truck would actually stop. When Nora flagged down the semi roaring by, we figured it would just continue on and we'd wait for a more conventional vehicle to take pity on us as we sat by the side of the road at 7:30 in the morning, trying to get from Tamga back to Bishkek or Almaty, as the case may be. But not only did the truck stop, the Russian driver offered to get us to Bishkek for free. In central Asia, pretty much any car or van will serve as a taxi that you can flag down most anywhere, as people try to fill their empty seats for some extra cash en route to their destination. So the offer for a free ride was probably the most unusual part. Nora and I decided to give it a go, having never ridden in a semi before, but we took Jesse along with us for a little insurance. We hugged Lynne and Bruno goodbye, and climbed on in.
It turns out we took the scenic option. About ten minutes later a little sedan went flying past, with Lynne and Bruno waving from the backseat. They may have made it to Bishkek two hours before us, but they didn't get to chat with Yura the driver about his plans to move his family to Quebec, or eat fried fish with him, or duck into the back sleeper bench every time we passed a police checkpoint, where he'd have to hop out and give them a bribe. Yura dropped us off in the heat of Bishkek and continued on his drive to Moscow to deliver 650 boxes of apricots. Since he wouldn't accept any money from us for the ride, Nora and I stealthily slipped 200 som into his brief case, at least enough to cover the bribes for our portion of the journey.
Jesse was staying in Bishkek to finagle some more visas for his trip so Nora and I continued on to Almaty alone. We found a car going that direction and listened to the driver chat for nearly the entire 5 hour ride, not counting the hour it took to get the car through customs. The guy was a former linguistics professor at the university and had served as a translator in Africa during Soviet times. Since he was speaking mostly in Russian, I tuned out and and tried teaching myself to read Cyrillic as we sat in gridlocked Almaty traffic. At rush hour they do away with the traffic lights in favor of human officers, as it cuts down on accidents. Those lights are really more of a suggestion, anyway.
Nora and I rolled into the village of Janashar after about 14 hours of travel. Our arrival was heralded by an epic storm of howling winds and flashing lightning. The next morning we could see tin roofs ripped off and road side stands collapsed in the early dawn light. At 5:30 AM we found Nora's sister Evie waiting for us at the airport and we completed the handoff of our translator and tour guide. Thank you again, Nora, for the wonderful adventure, helping me muddle through and playing in the mountains with me. You're still as amazing as ever.
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