Two Wheeled Road Trip

The lack of posting is due to the fact I am currently on vacation with some of my friends. We decided to escape the cold winter temperatures and hit the Thailand beach. Part of our relaxation and fun included renting bikes and hitting the road. At first I was a little nervous, and rightfully so in light of the traffic rules we are use to in Central Asia. But it was actually pretty tame, no drivers honked their horns excessively, and everyone stayed on their own side of the road ( which is opposite to North America, but the guys were getting use to it by the end). I felt so safe that I even agreed to move from the side car to actually riding on the back - a big step up for me from our last trip.

It is finished!

On Friday I officially finished opening my business. I am the co-owner of a fully invested, fully foreign owned fully set up and ready for operation company. I have run the gauntlet of over 90 office visits and passed the test, collected all the needed red stamps and even put in my visa application to be the first worker for this new company. It is finished, the battle is over, Fusion Translation Consultation Station is up and ready for business!!!!

135) All of those who have been thinking of my business partner and I over the last few months

136) That all the paperwork is submitted and approved

137) That the process is behind me.

138) The Lazy day I had to day (I literally did nothing all day)

Don't You Look Pretty

Growing up my family and I joked that we should be called Amish R Us due to our love of all things navy and subdued. Since coming to Central Asia I have expanded my definition of what looks great. In fact I am to the point that I may actually even agree with the dictionary.

I don’t know if it was a translation mishap or a perfect expression of the culture. The word gaudy is defined in English as: ostentatiously or tastelessly showy or ornamented. The English -Uyghur dictionary translates this same word as beautiful. Perhaps it is their love of colour, lace, sequins, rhinestones and sparkles that make an over the top item look downright pretty.

Not Setting the Price

Around town there are real taxis and fake ones. Real ones are red and come with a meter that clocks the fare as you go. Black ones (actually they can be any colour, we just call them black, like the black market) are just any guy driving his own car who is willing to take pity on you and give you a lift where ever you are going.

I use to stay away from the black taxis because I was convinced the driver was going to try to rip me off and charge me way more than a normal fare should be. When I first started being willing to go in fake taxis I would make sure I had negotiated the price before even getting in the car (and trust me they always seemed to call a higher price the minute they noticed my white skin), but the more I travelled with local friends the more I realized none of them did this. They just get in the car, tell the driver the destination, and when they are getting out give him the amount that everyone knows a ride that fare should cost.

I wanted to try it. So I started taking more blacks taxis and just stated my destination as I climbed in. I find that if I just sit there they still end up wanting more money, but if I speak to them in Uyghur and try being all cute and adorable (my friends words not mine) I often get offered the ride for free, or can at least get away with paying less than a regular cab. In fact even when I don't have correct change they will break up my big bill and give me back more money than I expected. This new strategy is not only saving me a lot of money, it is giving me a lot of language practice and keeping me updated on current events (taxi drivers in any culture hear a lot of news and have a lot of gossip to share). The only thing about taking fake cabs is that my marriage proposal rate increases. Taxi drivers are good they can go from "where are you from?" to "will you marry me?" in a ten minute ride or less.

Long Name No Can Say

A few weeks ago when I was buying airline tickets for one of my trips there was a Uyghur couple in line ahead of me. They were having troubles buying a flight for themselves. However, their problem had nothing to do with overbooked flights, conflicting time schedules, lack of cash or any of the other common problems one might anticipate when trying to fly somewhere. The problem started with the guy's name.

Names derived from the national language normally only take up an average of three spaces in the computer. In comparison a full Uyhgur name, (first name combined with the father's name acting as their last name) can be much longer. The computer system at the travel agent's office was equipped to enter a name up to 8 spaces long. This gentleman's name, however, was a whopping total of 10 spaces. The man behind the desk kept insisting he couldn't sell him a ticket. He was denied his right to fly based on the length of his name.

There is a saying here that literally means "there is no solution". Often people say it when a task seems a little difficult or the normal means won't work. Coming from a culture where I have been taught "where there is a will there is a way" or "if at first you don't succeed, try, try again". It is hard to hear over and over, "there is no solution". This seems like an excuse to me, like people are just to resigned to the system to try to figure out new and inventive ways to do things. The longer I live here, the more I hear these same words coming out of my mouth. But the other week I refused to believe their was no solution. The guy working at the office kept trying to dismiss his Uyhgur customer and motion me to the desk. I just sat back and said "Oh no, take your time and find a solution for him first. He is here trying to buy tickets".

Even after 45 minutes the Uyhgur guy left empty handed, cursing and saying he was going to buy a bus ticket (now he has a 24 hour trip instead of just 1h 30m). Poor guy, his name was just too long, he couldn't travel by air.

Asked to Interpret

The other day while I was sitting in the Doctor’s waiting room I heard another patient start to mumble to herself in one of the two languages I have had to study since moving to Central Asia. I quickly struck up a conversation with her about where she was from, her family, what our health problems were that had brought us to the Doctors and so on. All too shortly she and her son-in-law were called in for their appointment and our conversation and subsequently my language practice ended abruptly.

Two minuets later the doctor himself stepped out of the office and came to seek me out in the waiting room, “Karen, do you think you could come in and give us a bit of a hand?” “I’ll try” I offered boldly, but even as I offered I knew the job would be way above my head. I only studied this language for eight months and that was three years ago. During that time I focused on learning how to give taxi drivers directions to my home, how to barter and buy things from the market, how to call a repair man to come and fix my hot water tank (again), and how to discuss the weather and daily activities with my neighbours. Medical Terms 101 was not part of my eight month curriculum. The next ten minutes involved me trying with my limited vocabulary to translate the doctor's probing questions, and keep up with her speedy delivery of complaints and complications. I don’t know if the doctor got half the information he needed, but considering my services were free, I can guarantee they got their moneys worth from this interpreter.