Arm Wrestling Competition

On the evening of Defenders of the Fatherland Day, within the walls of AUCA, the Office of Student Affairs and the Student Senate sponsored the annual Arm Wrestling Competition. This year’s event was different because women and staff also took part in the contests. Wrestlers were divided into two categories: Heavyweight and the under-75 kg. Arm Wrestling heavyweight world champion Artur Shmoilov and Arm Wrestling Kyrgyz Federation member Vladimir Fotin refereed the bouts.

Every competitor displayed strength and dignity, but some were just a little bit better.


Winner – Takutdinova Diana

Second place – Isaeva Meerim

Third place – Beksultanova Sezim

Men – Under-75 Kg Weight Class:

Winner – Otonbaev Sultan

Second place – Abduhalilov Nurali

Third place – Emilyev Adilet

 Men – Heavyweight Class:

Winner – Dzhusupbekov Kalys

Second place – Kendzhahunov Dovran

Third place – Mamadrizohunov Akobir

All winners were presented with medals, certificates and valuable prizes by the Public Relations Office and the Student Senate.

We want to congratulate all men on Defenders of the Fatherland Day and all winners on their victories!

 P.S. Fortunately no one was hurt during the competition.

~ from the AUCA website

We’ve Been Banksy-ed


Looks like AUCA has its own Banksy, its own anonymous street artist whose motivation might be to provoke thought and conversation as a means to cultivating a persona. Maybe it’s Dope, the Bishkek street artist turned graphic designer who is also known as Denis Kapkanets. Kapkanets helped Bishkek’s street art evolve from spray painted tags to stenciled koans and inscrutable images that he and two cohorts spread around Bishkek on early Sunday mornings before the city woke up. This Think light bulb is stenciled onto the landing of one of the university’s staircases. When a student journalist quizzed the department in charge of building maintenance as to why the light bulb had not been painted over, a worker broke through official demeanor and scripted sound bite-speak and admitted an ambivalence about the work and a reluctance to take sides in street art vs. vandalism polemics. Hmm. Sounds like this piece of stencil art made someone think.

Lenin Points the Way

lenin oints the way  It’s about a 10- to 15-minute walk from my rented flat to the university. I head down a half block of Logvinenko and take a right on four-lane Chui Avenue, one of the city’s main arteries. Thick traffic always: taxis, cars, busses, the minivan public transport called marshrutkas. I pass the massive, ornately fenced, white Government House, and just before I come to Ala-Too Square, I step onto the zebra to cross the road; the cars come to an astonishingly consistent and respectful stop when pedestrians are in the zebras.

Across Chui I am in city parks. The traffic sounds muffle. I hit my stride on uncrowded, tree-lined walkways. I walk past the Kyrgyz Dramatic Theater and turn onto Abdymomunov Street where drivers like to come and do spinouts on the ice in the winter.

And then I pass one of a handful of Lenin statues in the city. It’s behind the State Historical Museum, which sits in the city’s main square, Ala-Too. This one is what a statue should be: formidable, commanding, oversized and a wee bit scary. (Another I saw features Lenin’s disembodied head floating about 10 feet up off the ground against a stone slab.) Unlike many former Soviet countries, Kyrgyzstan did not destroy its statuary when Communist rule ended, but they did banish this Lenin statue from center stage in the main square to this more obscure location behind the museum. Lenin the revolutionary, Lenin the tour guide. In this statue he stands with a joyless expression, his coat swirling at his knees, his telltale balding head and goatee. One arm outstretches before him. And if I follow the line of his fingertips, Lenin gestures with an open palm toward  the university. The American University of Central Asia, according to a sign affixed beside the front entrance, was the Headquarters of the Supreme Soviet of the Kyrgyz Soviet Socialist Republic until 1984.

When people ask why I don’t write fiction, I will tell them this little story. And then I will ask: Why would I spend time making things up when real life pulsates with such delicious absurdities?