A night at the opera

Yesterday was the first day I missed making a diary entry.  I had assumed a couple of things, 1) that the day would be unlike most trips to the opera, but that 2) that it would be a long day but with a sleep on the way home and today to recover and 3) that we would be home about 10.30 leaving time for the blog and other things that had to be done yesterday.

So well I was right about one thing.  It was unlike most trips to the opera. In the first place we were due to leave at about 10, but Biskek is only 2 hours away, so the plan was to have a meal en route and then I thought get to Biskek in time for some urgent shopping like my cough medicine and a formal chat with my boss and the recruiter about how to manage my hours.  Knowing I was to have this conversation left me feeling a bit tense about the day and to my surprise despite having had most of Friday off I actually felt really tired so slept till we got to Tokmek at 12.  This was where we were due to have lunch,but instead we sat in the boiling heat.  Half an hour in my boss explained that we were waiting for our computer colleague to arrive from Biskek.  People here are much more tolerant them me.  Biskek is only an hour or less from Tokmek so I think he must have set off about the time we arrived to wait for him. Anyway as a result we did not get to the restaurant till about 1.

The pictures do not do it justice.  It was like a mini Disney land, all fake palm trees and pretend animals mixed with the real.  My A level media students often do essays on hyper reality, well this is it.  A huge lake with real swans and fish, with a restaurant jutting out into the water and dotted all over the lake little pontoons which in summer are mini restaurants.  It was boiling hot and the squat toilets had put me off trying to take off my tights so I was pleased to have the water breeze next to me, from where I could look out over the pontoon just for a pianist, but the best bit was the fact that about every half an hour a wedding party would arrive. There was one moment to the left of us a photographer up to his knees in water, photographing one happy couple under a fake palm tree, whilst to the right I could see a man with a large video camera directing the groom to run Bollywood style  up to his bride. (How did they manage squat toilets in a bridal outfit?) Meanwhile Titanic style the first couple were now circling the lake by boat.   I was too discrete to take pictures but would have loved to a lot of Kyrgyz girls are stunning, but teetering in too big shoes with too high heals, face plastered in make up does not make anyone look their best as far as I can see and the men, when dressed up call to mind shots from The Godfather.   Only one couple seemed to actually be in love rather than on a movie set.  So altogether a fascinating experience. On the way out, we found some real, but caged animals including peacocks who would have been brilliant unleashed in this setting.  There were two beautiful foxes, in better condition than any seen in Hoddesdon, being tempted by an equally beautiful red squirrel that had got out of its cage, being regarded loftily by the caged birds of prey.  And then two man carrying something like a gold coloured mace, walked along the road, followed by an old black Volvo with bride, followed by a cavalcade of hooting white cars, announced the latest bride and groom to arrive and it was time at last for us to go.

However, the best bit was the food. Having expected to sort of have to just tolerate something I did not fancy till I could get to Biskek and have something different to the nice but now all to familiar Kyrgyz food, here we got the best of local food.  Brilliant salads, sesame seed breads and I had a really delicious salmon with rice.  I also managed to refuse the vodka, knowing that too much and I would not be awake for the performance. Assuming that is that we got there as by now our charabanc was running very late for the opera at 5.  Stopping for half an hour to buy drinks of fizz did not seem to help and by the time we had got lost in Biskek (where there also seemed to be loads of weddings taking place) the meeting with my colleague turned into him saying as I got out of the van, "Have you sorted things out?" Me shaking my head to say no, him putting a bag of books into my hand, that I probably will not have time to read now, and then that was it,  In a style that would have horrified the ROH we were ushered into the already started Traviata.

The stage was familiar, the empty seats and ongoing noise of conversation, the inappropriate applause, not.  ROH regulars would have had a seizure.  But actually the opera soared above it all.  True the cast looked like they had borrowed outfits that did not fit and the heroines little black number looked a bit like something out Ann Summers for mature swingers, but actually I liked her voice and that of all the leads and genuinely had a couple of tingle moments as she collapsed in a heap at the end.  

The best thing was my colleagues reactions, my boss it turned out was sharing her first visit to the Opera with the first visit to the opera of her 10 year old son, who loved running around the space in the interval with other even younger visitors, and as we left their enthusiasm for the whole day, made more visits to Biskek on cultural outings seem a possibility.   She asked if I was tired and I said I expected everyone was and that we would all probably sleep except the driver. But to my surprise she said that the others wanted to go to another concert.  At first I was not sure if I had heard her correctly, but rather than heading out of town, we stopped and two colleagues ran out and it was explained that I could either stay in the van go to a cafe or join them at a concert for a local pop star.  I was ready like the diva to collapse in a heap, but was stuck. Only later did a I realise that I should have tried ringing my colleague to see if he was now free, so I opted for the concert thinking that at least it would be of cultural interest.  But actually several hours of very loud music when all you want to do is sleep is just really really boring. I ended up playing games on my phone to cope.  It was only when the mics suddenly died in the middle and all the sound men, ran up and down in a panic, but the star carried on suddenly getting his accordion like instrument and getting the audience to join in that the evening lifted and again at the end when he did a really beautiful acoustic set.  If the whole event had been like that I would have really enjoyed it despite my low energy levels and interestingly it was only during this bit that I think the rest of the audience, very young, and much older then me, seemed to really enjoy it too.

At last I thought, as I feel asleep on route, home,we should be back by 1.  But then my sleep was interrupted by my colleagues albeit beautiful voice repeating all the best bits of the concert. The van was stopped, vodka was bought, (it is a one horse town, but it has a shop open at 12 selling vodka.) the doggy bag from earlier brought out and my colleagues proceeded to have a picnic. They tried rousing me to join in,but for some strange reason I was by now quite taciturn.  We finally set off again and I must have dozed as the next time I awoke we had stopped again and another picnic had started. I thought we were almost home as the wall we were parked near was a bit like the bridge near Shabdan, I tried looking out into dark to assess the situation. My colleagues realising I was awake tried to ply me with coke and vodka and chocolate all of which I refused in a very rude way.  By now I was beginning to panic that I would never get home and was trying to work out if I was in walking distance.  But no we had just entered Chong Kemin valley.  There was one more stop. The tiny kiosk at Shadan bus stop, the shop keeper revealed in outline on the lighted window.  My colleague hoped back on and handed I think what must have been the third vodka bottle to his colleague. I had been the first pick up, but to my relief we headed across the bridge and to the Ashu, I was to be dropped off so that the party could continue without my by now very sour and pinched face.  I almost ran off the bus and home.  Very shaky and now very unhappy, because I understand and even admire my colleagues ability to party, some of them are quite a bit older than me,  I just cannot do it.  And the day that was supposed to help resolve my worries has just compounded them.