a quick kitchen tour

There are many things going on right now. Sleep training, which also means nap training, which kind of means no sleep or naps for anybody? Bank accounts, home insurance, Farrell’s two-hour commute (each way! dammit, Bruges), figuring out dinner every night (I’m starting to realize we went out for dinner a lot or I usually …

this is what sucks about being an expat

I had to say goodbye to a really good friend last night. Farrell played a show at an outdoor cafe with Eholami and Dad Manki. It was a beautiful, clear night, and I sat on the grass while Darwin managed to sleep for several hours in a pair of “junior-sized” noise-blocking earphones. People rocked out. …

maybe leaving? definitely leaving?

(Update: I made it back with no problems whatsoever, it’s almost comical that we worried so much about it. And, even better, Timati was on my Bishkek-Moscow flight, although at first I assumed he and his blinged-out, tatted-up posse were obnoxious Americans who work at the transit center. He’s much shorter than I thought he …

that unattainable dreamboat

or, “How Kirstin didn’t get to see Mirbek Atabekov in concert.” Maybe this is karma for publicly admitting that I wasn’t the biggest fan of his most recent music video? Maybe in my current state (pregnant, if you forgot), I’m suddenly incapable of performing simple tasks like buying concert tickets? Maybe there is something in …

and now I have a broken door

(Update, 10/27: About a week ago, the police came back to explain all of the diligent work they had been doing on our case. You would not believe how crazy this story turned out to be! All along, we assumed it was a group of spoiled rich hooligans that broke our door, but the police …

Two Years in Kyrgyzstan

“And look at where we are,” I said to Farrell yesterday as I reminded him of our moving-to-Bishkek anniversary, referring to how much has changed since August 15, 2010, when we first landed here (or even just one year ago). “Yeah,” he said, not looking up from his computer. “Writing the same damn proposals.” Things …

going to Issyk Kul

After an uneventful weekend of lounging in my pool, baking a cake, and calling around to get the Oxus International summer intern out of custody from the Karabalta police station (what? I’ll explain below), the whole office is heading to Karakol (and nearby villages) for a few days to conduct some research and workshops. Hopefully …