The price of a game.
The toilet in the amusement park.
The usual suspects.
Metal gates with tunduks.
On sale this week.
From a student paper: “When I or my friend gets a shot of me where I look hot, then I would think why not sharing this on Facebook and Instagram and let people know that sometimes I could be that handsome as well.”
From another paper: “It is well known that phone was the first connection thing before the progress.”
Some students from spring semester say the word they remember me using that caught their attention is squishy. Students from this semester say the word they remember me using that caught their attention is juicy. I teach journalism.
She was lying on the ground beside the garbage bins where I put my rubbish. Bishkek Park, a posh shopping center, is next door; maybe she lost her way from there. Or maybe she was tired of that life and this is as far as she got in her getaway plan.
Through the park beside the White House. This stone path cuts a diagonal through the trees and ends up at the edge of Panfilov, an amusement park behind Parliament. Isn’t there some kind of metaphor at play when an amusement park is located directly behind the building that is the seat of governmental power?
I like this path because I get off Chui, the main drag, and into the trees. Plus: There is usually no one here, and I am rewarded with that gorgeous and fleeting sensation that I am alone in the middle of a city.
In warmer months this half yurta is festooned with props (including a stuffed bear standing on all fours) and used as a backdrop for photos. In winter it looks broken and kind of lonely. When I walk past I am drawn to the chair. I fantasize about sitting there in some sort of ceremonial posture and waiting for the expressions of passersby. But I haven’t done that.
Random shots in Panfilov. Forlorn is the only word I can think of for an amusement park that sits quiet and empty. But there is also a kind of hopefulness that radiates from the bright colors. They telegraph that despite snow and winter and stillness, warmer days will come once more and so will people to fill the rides. They will return to be amused.
Sergei says there is no Russian translation for the words encourage or serendipity.
And I tell him there is no English translation for toska (a great spiritual anguish for an unspecified reason) or pachimoochka (someone who asks a lot of questions).