Virgil

There are not a lot of people here in Shymkent that speak English. Oh some people know a word or two, but hardly more than that. We’re lucky in a way. A couple from the United Kingdom (Wales, specifically) is also out here for their adoption, and my wife has been in contact with them for at least a month through email. She met them through an adoption online community. They have been in Shymkent for this past month and they had a good feel for the town. Once we got settled we met up with them and they were so kind to show us around. It was a life saver actually.

Two nights ago they took us to this coffee house, where we had dinner also. I won’t mention their full names, but their initials are S and P. When they came out here they didn’t know much Russian either, but P really made an effort and was really communicating with the locals. He did the ordering for us. The women had Caesar salads, I had a salad with various kinds of greens and this toasted cheese, and he had this meat dish. The next night we took a different route around town and walked about. It was comforting having someone who could read the store signs and speak. His wife was quite proud of him and frankly I was damned impressed.

We were to meet with S and P this evening as well, but today was their court date where their son would officially get transferred to them, and so their schedule was up in the air. But we all thought they would be out by a reasonable hour, but when we failed to get a confirming email from them by six PM we decided we just had to go off on our own. We decided to go to this restaurant called Karavan for two reasons: (1) it got a good review in the travel book and (2) it was right next door to the coffee house we had been to two nights before. It was also right on the map clear as day, down Tauke Khan Blvd about four blocks and inside Ethno Park.

So my wife asks, “You know how to get there, right?”

“Yes, you just walk to Tauke Khan and make a right and down about four blocks.”

“I thought we made a left.”

“No, that was the next night. The first night we made a right. Plus it’s right here on the map.”

Ok, we’re walking down Tauke Khan and we are four or five blocks into it and we’re not finding the cross street. “I think we must have passed it,” I said. “Or is it down that Avenue?”

“You don’t know where you’re going,” she says.

“It’s around here somewhere. Let’s go a few more blocks.”

Ok, we pass a few more blocks and no Ethno Park. It’s right there on the map. It’s around here somewhere.

“I want to go home”, she says. "It’s going to get dark and I don’t want to walk around here in the dark.”

“Ok, let’s back track, we’ll find it on the way back.”

“It’s too late. I don’t want to eat out any more.”

“Don’t get like that.” God I hate when she gets so prissy. “You never have any patience.”

Ok, then tempers began to really flare and she had a few choice words for me. “You’re the one with the map looking like a know it all, and you can’t find it? I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Just dumb little old me, knows nothing, right?” Yikes. That’s when you know you have to keep your mouth shut and keep moving. We even pass a few restaurants and look in but are too hesitant to try them. “Ok, I concede. Let’s go home.”

But as I’m looking at the map walking back I realized, wait a second, I got east and west backwards. We were going east when were supposed to go west. I really hated to say this, but I contritely and meekly did, “You know, you were right. We had to make a left onto Tauke Khan.”

“Ha!” She wagged her finger. “Don’t think I don’t know what I’m talking about. You ruined the whole evening.”

“Why it’s just a few more blocks now. Let’s just get there.”

“I don’t want to walk in the dark.”

“It will be fine.”

Ok I convince her and we do find it, and it’s right there like it says on the map. LOL. We walk in and we seat ourselves as it appears to be the custom here and it’s got really interesting décor, sort of Turkish or perhaps that is Kazak. The waitress comes over, a girl really who looks about sixteen, and gives us a menu and says something in Russian. My wife and I just look at each other. I turn to the waitress, “I don’t speak Russian. Do you speak English?”

She looks at me completely uncomprehending. She says something else in Russian. I don’t have a clue. I try again, as if the second time is going to make a difference. “I only speak English.” I make a motion with my hand from my mouth outwards as I say “speak” as if that’s a sign language for the word. “Does anyone here speak (again flipping my hand from my mouth outwards) English?”

She shakes her head. Ok. So we look at the menu. Completely incomprehensible. The Cyrillic alphabet has extra funny looking letters and even the Roman letters are completely pronounced differently. My wife grabs the menu and gives it a long look. She shakes her head. “Just pick something.”

I point to something. “Is this chicken?” I ask the waitress. She shrugs her shoulders in incomprehension. “Chicken” I continue, and then I fold my arms and swing them like chicken wings. “Chicken,” I repeat flapping my arms.

This only makes the waitress look at me like I’m insane. She wants to crack a smile but restrains herself. Ok, I take the menu and randomly point to something. Anything. My wife says make it two, “dva.” The waitress looks at the menu and then scribbles something on her pad. The she says something, as if to say what else. She flips the menu over for another list, equally undecipherable. My wife picks something, and I say, “dva” as if I know what I’m saying. The waitress makes a motion for beverage, and my wife says Coca Cola, and I chime in “dva.” And I flip the menu back over and impulsively pick something else, again not knowing what, but something that appears to be off an appetizer block. And the waitress scribbles it all down and leaves.

“You don’t know what you’re ordering. How can you just keep ordering?”

“It didn’t seem like we had enough.”

For all you know you could have ordered eyeballs. I ain’t eating no eyeballs.”

“I didn’t order eyeballs. “

“How do you know? You could have ordered horse dick. What if they bring out horse weenie on a platter, are you going to eat it?”

Ok, that made us laugh. “P would have been able to order this,” I said. “I wonder how they’re doing. I wonder if they emailed back.” So I check my blackberry and sure S did. I read it to my wife. Court got delayed and went very late which was a surprise for a Friday night. But they held the hearing and passed. “Be warned that your husband does most of the answering. It was hard for me to be quiet. It’s a man’s world out here.”

Hmm, that was sobering. And then the food comes out. “Here it is,” I said. “Be prepared.” And she brings out two plates with beef and vegetables over a pasta, a pasta thick like linguine except it’s round and not flat. She brings out a local bread and a strange salad, and everything is quite good. The beef and pasta dish is -oh wow -absolutely delicious.

“I knew exactly what I was ordering,” I wink over to her.

“Yeah, sure you did. You’re very lucky.”

Our bellies were definitely satisfied (and incredibly it came to what would be $12, including gratuity) and we walked home happy. I was strutting, yeah it’s a man’s world out here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IwuO2dfqrF4