Encounters with airports and taxi drivers

28 Aug 2012

In typical fashion, I came razor-thin close to missing my 4pm flight to Bishkek. As my private (likely unlicensed) taxi pulled away from Hostel Zokol at 240pm, I asked the driver "how long to airport?"

"30, 40 minutes maybe."
"Ohhhh..." My eyebrows shot up. "Can we ... go faster?"
My soft-spoken Russian driver smiled enigmatically "We try. Many cars."

I was on edge the next 20 mins, secretly willing all the traffic in front to melt away; while maintaining a broken conversation with the driver with limited Russian and English vocab. It is actually possible with the use of key choice words:

- "where from?"
- "Singapore."
- "Ah."
(driver smiles and nods. Not sure if he really knows my tiny country)
- "Why here? Turist?"
- "Da (yes). Da (yes)."
*pause*
- "I go Altai, look for 'sniezny bars' (snow leopards)"
- "Ahh, Altai."
(driver smiles. I go on, encouraged.)
- "Altai, krasivy (beautiful). Bania (bath) harasho (very good)" (driver smiles and nods)

etc etc

We reached airport at 3.05pm. Relieved, I jumped out, and mustered the rest of my limited Russian vocab - "spasiba! (thank you), ochin priyatna!(nice to meet you), das vidanya! (goodbye)"

Cleared passport control in record time, but got stuck at airport security - I had left my Swiss army knife in hand luggage! It is impossible to get a Swiss army knife through Russian security. So it stays in Novosibirsk.

Pity! I was kicking myself inside. The knife was so new - its moment of glory was when Oleg used it to open a celebratory bottle of red wine at our last dinner at Altai base camp. But still, I caught my flight, and thats what matters.

The flight was relatively uneventful. I managed to doze off, even with a bawling Kyrgyz toddler next to me. Well, I guess having 5 nieces / nephews at home every Sunday is good training.

It was grey and gloomy when we touched down in Bishkek close to 6pm, but the temperature was a balmier 24 deg C. I got through passport control smoothly - the new Kyrgyz visa-free policy for selected countries (including Singapore) really works!

Emerging into the arrival hall, we were confronted by the familiar horde of taxi touts. I must be a prime target, with a massive backpack and daypack.

I walked around with a glassy-eyed stare and resolute head shake to these advances, searching for my driver from Radison Guesthouse. Still couldn't find anyone holding my name plate, after walking around the hall two rounds. I started getting a bit worried. Here I was, with no Kyrgyz money (yet), and no phone reception (yup, Starhub doesn't have partners in Kyrgyzstan), and no idea which Kyrgyz taxi company was reliable.

At this point, one of the young Kyrgyz touts detached himself from the crowd and walked over, "Devushka (young lady) ..." I was starting my anti-tout head shake, when he pulled out his phone, pointed at mine and continued "You have number to call?"

Oh! This kind stranger had noticed my distress. I felt an instant rush of gratitude - and shame at my initial tendency to be unfriendly. My driver, Mr Farid, turned up at this point. I tried to convey my gratitude to the kind stranger with a loud "spasiba!" and big smile, before leaving with Mr Farid - relieved that I didn't have to negotiate this city by myself, and glad that there are good people here.