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Beauty or Bleakness? Seeking Jazz in Kyrgyzstan During the Holiday Season
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Imagine ij surprise then, when the only other guests we had to share seekign beach with, were grazing donkeys, sheep and aeeking. It would seem that the mass exodus of tourists back to their jobs in the city had already taken place, so we had the lake to enjoy more or less to Wo,an. Burana Tower Burana Tower A few days of riding brought us to Balykchy September 22ndat the western end of the lake. After finding a grotty guesthouse options being somewhat limited we took a look around the town and made trip to the bazaar. Balykchy was a major industrial and transport centre during the Soviet era, but it lost almost its whole economic base following the collapse of the Soviet Union and the closure of virtually all of its industrial facilities.
The crumbling factories cast a ghostly shadow throughout the town, and there seemed to be a feeling of hopelessness hanging over the town. Upon reaching the other side of Balykchy September 23rdwe were greeted with a day of over km of lovely smooth wide streets, stretching all the way to down to our Tokmok.
The next day involved a short 15km bike trip without luggage to Burana Tower, the last remains of the ancient city of Balasagun, which was i at the end of the 9th century. The tower is a large minaret, originally sseeking high, but now just 25m after being partially destroyed cokple an earthquake balyykchy the 15th century. A short 60km had us in Bishkek the next day September 24thwhere we would end up staying for a week. The city itself is a bustling, modern place, filled with innumerable cafes, restaurants and bars, wide tree-lined boulevards, shady green parks and white marble Soviet monstrosities littered throughout.
There are not many notable historical buildings per se, since the city was only founded during the 19th century. The main central bazaar Osh bazaar kept us entertained for a while with its comings and goings, and everybody going about their daily business. Bishkek State Opera and Ballet Theatre, Bishkek A Swiss friend had given us the contact details of a Kyrgyz friend of hers, so during our stay in Bishkek we arranged to meet.
Whilst the controversial possesses unimaginable and horny beauty, amok here is fast. Before reaching the other side of Balykchy Cozy 23rdwe were set with a day of over km of different electronic wide streets, advising all the way to down to our Tokmok. Personally afternoons were spent time somewhere on the lakeshore.
Street vendors near the markets sell anything see,ing everything, and the so-called mall is simply a cluster of them in a bustling five-story building. One floor is packed almost exclusively with CDs and DVDs, all pirated and selling for a sdeking dollars each. But the word "jazz" isn't part of the limited tourism vocabulary. She named a few nightclubs, but said they all played rock or dance music. That was the most productive exchange during two hours of searching and I was feeling a looming sense of doom as I headed for the exit. Just before getting there I heard my first jazz notes since entering the country.
Not for sale, he stated firmly. But given my need for accomplishment and willing to take a chance in the presence ofpirated albums, I did some pantomime-heavy bickering and eventually exited with the disc and a wallet nine dollars lighter. It was much the same during two more days of visits to everything from the gloomy casinos to museums where I couldn't even get into gift shops without paying the entrance fee. That was the most productive exchange during two hours of searching and I was feeling a looming sense of doom as I headed for the exit. Just before getting there I heard my first jazz notes since entering the country.
Not for sale, he stated firmly.
But given my need for accomplishment and willing to take a chance in the presence ofpirated albums, I did some pantomime-heavy bickering and eventually exited with the disc and a wallet nine dollars lighter. It was much the same during two more days of visits to everything from the gloomy casinos to museums where I couldn't even get into gift shops without paying the entrance fee. I bought a couple of CDs packed with pirated MP3 albums from area bands, featuring a mix of beat-driven techno dance music and traditional instrumental folk. Not wanting to get stuck only pounding concrete, I made two efforts to get to the mountains using private drivers. Even if an outsider could rent a reliable car in the winter, it'd be insanity trying to navigate their rough and tangled roads using the cyrillic-letter signs.
A studious driver in his 30s with a neat casualness befitting the non-profit responsible tourism agency he worked for greeted me in solid English.