The cafeteria is lively and buzzing. Kyrgyz music videos blare out of a nearby television as a few ofitsantkas run back and forth to the kitchen carrying plates overflowing with lagman, mastava, samsa, and pirozhki. I sigh heavily as I pour another cupful of green tea into the small bowl called a piala that is used as a teacup here in Osh. People come and go as nearly every table remains full, people wrapped in faux fur coats and hats, with several pieces of luggage by their side, each carefully wrapped several times in plastic wrap.
It’s 2am, and I’ve learned a very important lesson about flying in Central Asia: your flights are scheduled at the airline’s convenience, not yours. Continue reading “Midnight At A Central Asian Airport”
