Day 8 - end of the week.

The end of the working week, and what can I say?
After yesterday's exertions I slept until some time after 12.00, and then spent the rest of the day teaching until 10pm.

A Russian beer was waiting for me in the fridge at home; it was like any other mediocre European lager, but it still tasted good. I reflected that sleeping in each morning wasn't helping my jetlag, teaching all afternoon and evening wasn't much fun, and that I wasn't seeing much of Bishkek like this, let alone Kyrgyzstan. Was 'culture shock' setting in? I didn't think so; usually it takes a few weeks for me to notice the effects. I was just tired, and frustrated by the lack of pattern to my life: sleepless nights, disjointed lessons, and irregular classes. And, of course, the realisation that I'd been in Kyrgyzstan for a week and seen very little except the outside of a few theatres.
Tomorrow would be another day, however: Ulan had promised to take me to Osh Bazaar.

Above: the road to school. Or from the school, actually, as this photo was taken from the doorway.