“Please fasten your seatbelt.” I woke up at that announcement and, under my eye mask, everyone else was already awake. Apparently I was the only one who had been asleep.
Red-eye flight to Bishkek
A four-hour red-eye flight to Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan. I was in the last row, 40F, and no one was beside me, so I stretched out and slept for about three hours.
In my dream I was making a cat-shaped fan out of paper, following the steps as if I were clearing a dungeon.
Then the announcement to prepare for landing cut in. The cabin crew hurried us, and I hastily fastened my seatbelt.
Outside the window it was a clear blue sky. Mountains stretched out, a landscape I had never seen before. I had actually come to Kyrgyzstan, which I had even dreamed about. My heart lifted gently.
Most of the passengers were locals. The only foreigners seemed to be three people a few rows ahead. Were they British or French? The three sat together, all looking out the window. The quietest one was on the aisle, the chattiest on the window side. For some reason that made perfect sense.
SIM card—an unexpected pitfall
I arrived in Bishkek safely. Passport control was breezy. Riding that momentum, I decided to buy a SIM card at the airport.
Card payment wasn't accepted. I had no choice but to pay in USD. I immediately decided that $18 for four weeks of unlimited use sounded fine, but the $82 change they returned was in Kyrgyz soms. I thought, this is the worst.
I should have asked upfront, "Can I get the change in USD too?" Another new mistake, another new lesson. I was almost able to handle the exchange in Russian, just one step shy.
Outside the airport, shops selling SIM cards were lined up. Ah, I should have bought one here. I should have chosen a store that accepted card payments.
I was exhausted, so I drifted into a shop that didn't have a line. Because everyone was buying there, I went along and thought it would be fine. It was a completely emotional (System 1) decision. I need to think more logically, I thought.
To the city center by Yandex Taxi
To get into town I used the Yandex Taxi I had researched in advance. I paid no attention to the touts shouting "Taxi! Taxi!"
When I called one through the app it arrived quickly. About 23 km for roughly ¥1,400— not a bad price, I thought. Traffic slowed us down, but because I had pinned the hotel's location beforehand, the trip went smoothly.
Download the necessary apps in advance. From arrival to getting into the city, once you're used to it you should be done in about two hours. That's why I realized again that especially right after entry, preparation directly leads to peace of mind.
Oversleeping thanks to early check-in
I arrived at the hostel and asked for an early check-in. The fee was a 50% surcharge. Even so, the extra was only ¥1,000, so the desire to sleep won.
The receptionist was very kind and showed a great interest in Japan. She told me about recommended tours and travel plans, and in the end we exchanged Instagrams. Maybe because I was still hazy-headed, the words that would normally make me nervous came easily.
The room and shower were clean, and it became my favorite hostel already. The room shown to me felt different from the type I had chosen, but if it meant meeting people, that was fine.
I intended to sleep for only three hours, but before I knew it it was 3 p.m. I had slept deeply.
Walking through the park, getting used to the city
After waking and taking a shower, I was extremely hungry. I was in the mood for sushi, but ended up choosing KFC. ¥1,280—fairly expensive.
When I arrive in a new city, I walk first. That's my rule. I attached a strap to the camera I bought yesterday, brought my DJI (drone) along, and strolled through the park.
While walking I tried various film simulations. I still don't know which style I like. It's also a journey to find that mood.
While eating, I contacted a few hair salons in Russian to ask whether they could do a perm and a cut. I felt so unsettled I thought an ENTJ would decide more quickly. When I was in Turkey I was confident and lively, but since arriving in Kyrgyzstan my heart has been pounding.
I'm probably in the middle of adapting to the environment. Meeting different people every day and placing myself in different settings is, to be honest, quite mentally taxing. But I also feel that little by little I'm building a self that won't break easily.
I ordered an ice cream in the park. I took one bite and was surprised. It tasted nostalgic, like Japanese ice cream from 1990.
While walking I observed the people of Kyrgyzstan. Few walked fashionably with sunglasses; it seemed not very Westernized yet. There are open people, but overall I felt more conservative. I found myself comparing it to Armenia. It seemed somewhat conservative, yet their hearts looked straightforward and pure.
There were many boys who neither had good posture nor seemed confident. A boy with wandering eyes walking beside a pretty girl—I noticed the temperature gap between the two who seemed to be on a date and couldn't help but watch them. I felt there were more shy than friendly people, and receptionists often weren't very personable. This difference is interesting. Wondering whether it's clear-cut or not, I headed to the cinema.
'The Devil Wears Prada' in Russian
My goal for today was to arrive at the mall by 7:30 p.m. When I tried to watch 'The Devil Wears Prada' in English, I found it screened only once a day and was fully booked. Reluctantly, I decided to watch it with Russian audio and Kyrgyz subtitles.
I couldn't understand all the dialogue and honestly didn't enjoy it that much. There was less emotional fluctuation than I expected; it felt like a film for adults.
A line exchanged at the supermarket at night
After the movie, I refreshed myself with Russian-style sushi for the first time in a while.
When I asked in broken Russian, 'Is there still space?' the staff smiled at me. I think my Russian sounded kind of cute. Even so, I was able to stay calm and composed. This, too, might be growth.
I ate the sushi and walked back to the hostel. I was a bit guarded on the night streets, but people were walking normally and it didn't feel dangerous at all.
On the way I bought water and bananas at a supermarket. When I casually said in Russian, 'Hello, please give me a bag,' the clerk asked, 'Korean? Chinese?' When I said, 'I'm Japanese,' they just said, 'Oh, I see.' But they did tell me, 'Your Russian is good,' so I laughed and replied, 'Thank you.'
Before I knew it, I found myself fully accustomed to Russian. This is growth too.
Every time I move to a new country I get a little scared. With so much unknown, my brain is constantly running at full speed: don't let your guard down, don't be deceived, ask, act, be cautious. That alone is exhausting each time.
But perhaps that is exactly the detonator that keeps a person young and makes them grow. In places where the language, environment, food, and people are different, every day starts from zero again.
By repeating this, I'm surely becoming stronger little by little.
