The first week

A torrid heat hangs over Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan. The impressive peaks of the Tien Shan rise only some 30 miles in the south – and on a clear day their sight gives a visible foretaste of the cleft landscape which shapes this mountainous Central Asian country. It’s been a week now since I arrived here from Istanbul, flying in at Manas Airport. After heavy course corrections, the aircraft touched ground safely. The passengers acknowledged the safe arrival with a moderate applause – and a heavy sigh of relief. While the plane turned around on the runway to approach the terminal building, most of the mainly Kyrgyz people onboard unfastened their seatbelts immediately to collect their luggage, despite Russian instructions to wait with that until the plane had come to a complete halt. In the meanwhile, they missed an interesting sight outside of the windows: Numerous US Air Force Boeing 737 transport jets occupied almost every available parking position. I didn’t reckon to see one of the main ingredients of the hot geopolitical cocktail of the wider region right at the start of my journey – the American military presence in Central Asia could not be more visible to visitors arriving by air.

My roomy 2 bed-room flat, located on Moskovskaya Street, affords a satellite-TV and thus, I can watch BBC some time of the day. The channel currently broadcasts a trailer on heavy rotation. It shows wide Kazakh plains and articulates somewhat like:

‘This is Kazakhstan, the largest of the Central Asian states, collectively known as the ‘Stans. It is an area which rarely makes it into the headlines. With all the predictions about this region coming true – it soon will.’

Well, great to be here then.

After unpacking my stuff into the flat, Cholpon, my guide, asked me whether I was ready to have my first night out in Bishkek. Well, it was already two at night, but nevertheless, we took a cab to the ‘First Nightclub’ (formerly known as ‘Soho’) – owned and run by the son of President Akaev. The $10 entrance fee made undoubtedly clear who is to be seen here. The newly-rich young and successful generation, shaking their hips to Black Music and Russian all-time-favourites populated the dance floor and made the scene appear a bit like the Central Asian version of a P. Diddy video-shooting. Just what it made unique was the armed guard next to the dancing people. He was having a sharp eye on everyone and made sure everything was in order. Kept in a clinically white layout, the place was a bit reminiscent of a trendy European establishment. The prices, too.

The next day took me out of Bishkek for the first time. The Ala-Arca national reserve is located only 40 miles south of the city and acts as a favourite refuge for heat-anguished city-dwellers who want to catch a fresh mountain breeze. Slowly inclining up to some 1,500 meters, the valley reminded me a bit of the Swiss Alps - with its green meadows, a loud and roaring torrent and snow-capped peaks further up.

Cholpon’s friends, all students of the American University Central Asia, were all nice and welcoming. Together with them, we sat down under pine trees and picnicked all day. What a great start for the two months I’ll be here.

My work at the International Foundation for Election Systems started the day after. I’ll be able to get some great insights into the complex political situation in the ‘island of democracy’, although my work is rather down to earth and – as usual - computer-based. However, by simply having my desk in the meeting room, having lunch with my colleagues, and seeing some of them after work, my knowledge is growing on a daily basis. Still, it is quite confusing, as my brain has to cope with a multitude of new names, dates, and contexts. What can be said until now is that the model-state of Central Asia is far from offering transparent democratic conditions, and - what is worse - seems to be on the down grade. With parliamentary and presidential elections scheduled for the next year, Kyrgyzstan seems to be standing at a crossroads. The country is entering a period of uncertainty as it approaches the end of President Akaev’s term in office in 2005.

After a busy week, Friday brought great news from London: I will cover the election-preparations on openDemocracy, a former employer. There, the previous paragraph will be spilled out in greater detail.

Saturday, I and my colleague Jamilya went out to southern Bishkek, where I was supposed to meet national writer Chingiz Aitmatov’s wife Maria. Next to the presidential residence and hidden behind huge walls, the Aitmatovs live in modest – under Kyrgyz conditions though crass - luxury. Sitting down on the terrace of their house, Ms Aitmatov offered me to participate in a summer study camp, where I would teach students German and English. The camp is held by the International Aitmatov Foundation, bringing together European and promising local students. As interesting this project sounds (and tempting the chance to see Chingiz Aitmatov), I will have to turn down the offer. At the same time, I will visit an IFES summer camp in south Kyrgyzstan, near the Tajik border, instead. There, I feel I will be able to see more of the real nature of this country and get a rare opportunity to see how democracy is trying to be promoted on the micro-level. Batken, a region heavily inflicted by economic hardship, has been in the news two years ago, when insurgents of the IMU had poured into Kyrgyz territory to stage attacks on Uzbek positions in the adjacent Ferghana Valley.

Today, it has been rather calm. As last Saturday night was heavily exhausting and came to an end at seven in the morning, Cholpon, Nadja and me took it easy by leaving the city to ride horses.

I did quite well considering the fact that I am a bloody riding-beginner with no experience whatsoever. At least I didn’t fall off the horseback. But what my inexperienced eye could make out for sure was that my horse ‘Muskat’ was definitely in a better shape than Schwartz’ ‘Bubba’.