This is the last part of a six-part series recounting my misadventures on the Pamir Highway. Pamir Highway: Osh -Bishkek – Almaty
This is also the third part of a five-part series under Coronavirus Tavels
Osh
We had a flight to catch this evening from Osh to Bishkek, capital of Kyrgyzstan, and from there back to Almaty. But after what had happened in the past 24 hours, who knew what could go wrong. While we were having breakfast, our driver went to the village hospital to collect our documents from last night. It seemed like whatever document we signed in one place does not get communicated to other places, so wherever we went we had to do the same thing all over again. That is third world bureaucracy for you. Pamir Highway: Osh -Bishkek – Almaty
En route: Sary Tash - Osh
On the road to Osh were more captivating mountains, but sadly all we could think about was what was going to happen to us once we reached. It was a full three-hour drive. How does one know that they were in Kyrgyzstan and not Tajikistan? In the Kyrgyz countryside, horses might as well be another mode of transportation. It is not just a reflection of their nomadic history, but also a practicality as distances between villages are far and fuel is scarce and expensive. Horses seem to be the more sensible choice. Pamir Highway: Osh -Bishkek – Almaty
Arrival in Osh
Our first stop in Osh was Sulaiman-Too Mountain, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Visually, it is not that appealing, but symbolically, it has been an important site of pilgrimage that pre-dates Islam in Central Asia.
More encounters with Kyrgyz authorities
Here is where things get interesting. We were on the way from Sulaiman-Too to our lunch place when our driver picked up a very long phone call spoken in Russian. It seemed odd. After putting it down, he addressed our guide by his name (which I have never heard him do before), and started to explain something very slowly and carefully. Our guide listened intently, never interrupting once. Then came the dreaded, “Hey, guys.” I forgot his exact words, but he told us that the authorities wanted us to go to the hospital to take our blood for testing. He said we would have lunch first, then we would go. We would still make it in time for our flight.
Firstly, there was no explanation given to what this blood test was needed for. Given the present circumstances, the only logical reason was suspecting us of coronavirus yet again. Despite all previous temperature testing and documentation, of course the Osh authorities would have it repeated on us.
Secondly, if they really did suspect us of having coronavirus, surely a blood test is not the appropriate test to be conducting? Blood tests are more complicated and much more costly to carry out as compared to the standard coronavirus swab test. Furthermore, the results take a longer time to show. This then begs the first question, why do they need our blood?
Thirdly, what was the point of doing a test the second before we leave the place, or even letting us leave at all. If they truly think we have coronavirus and are concerned about public health and safety, should the protocol not be to isolate and test us, and put us in quarantine for the next few days? That is, on the assumption that their suspicions are founded in the first place, which they are not. Once again, we had been in Kazakhstan since January, a country reportedly free of the virus. Targeting us solely based on our nationality is purely discrimination.
Upon hearing this we immediately protested and asked our guide to help us convey the message that we would not be willing to do the blood test. He told us that he would do his best. The more we thought about it, the more wrong this whole demand seemed. Given the standard of healthcare here, what about unsanitary needles? Or an official document requesting to conduct a blood test? Is this not infringing on the individual rights to our bodies? The worst part was, no one could save us too. The nearest form of a diplomatic presence of Singapore in the region was a consulate in Nur-sultan, Kazakhstan, thousands of kilometres away. It started to feel a lot like the National Geographic documentary “Locked up Abroad”. Pamir Highway: Osh -Bishkek – Almaty
And the encounters continue
As our driver parked the car, he received another phone call, presumably about the same matter. This time, the message was that the authorities now only want us to do the swab. We would go to the hospital after lunch. This was a much easier pill to swallow. No doubt still baseless, but much easier to swallow.
By the time we got to the restaurant, my appetite had all but vanished. There was a knot in my stomach and eating would not untangle it. Our driver received another call again. This time, they said we did not need to do the swab test, only go to the hospital to sign some more documents. To be honest, anything sounded like child’s play after having the blood test bomb dropped on us. Sure, I’ll sign some documents. I’ll even sign some more in Bishkek if you want me to. Just let us leave the country.
On the way to the hospital, or wherever we were headed I really don’t care at this point, our driver received another phone call. The person on the other end said Bishkek told them to leave the foreigners alone and let them board their flight. Is that music to my ears I hear? It turns out that I loved Bishkek so much that I had to go down there on a separate solo journey to show my gratitude once more (more on that in Bishkek). Soon we arrived at Osh International Airport. When we got to the check-in desk, the man behind it already had our full names written on a post-it note. They had been expecting us.
Bishkek
En route: Osh - Bishkek
Finally, it was time for us to board. We said our goodbyes to our guide and driver, our guardian angels. Our flight was operated by Tez Jet, a domestic carrier on the list of airlines banned in the EU, because of the lack of security management by the civil aviation authorities of the country. Shocking how this was no longer at the top of our concerns.
Despite the terrible online reviews, I can now vouch for its service:) In fact, Tez Jet was much better than many of the no-frills airlines I have sat. The plane looked well maintained, the seats were clean, and it was very punctual. It took off a mere two minutes after the stated departure time. The only thing that seemed off was that there was only one flight attendant, who did not appear throughout the entirety of the flight, only at the start and end. This led me to wonder if he was the sole pilot of the aircraft too.
Arrival in Bishkek
Exactly 40 minutes later we landed in Bishkek’s Manas International Airport. It was 9pm, not exactly witching hour, but there were no taxis outside. It seemed like all the passengers onboard with us who did not have a ride to pick them up also had trouble finding a cab. We found this very peculiar, especially for the largest airport in a country’s capital. Half an hour later some people helped us book one, and we were off to our hostel. Off we were indeed, the driver sped through the highway at 150km/h. Statistically we were more likely to die in that car than on Tez Jet.
We reached KADY Hostel past 10pm. I was more than ready to pass out. Seeing a clean, Western style bathroom brought tears to our eyes. For the first time in three days, we took a shower, and one that was really warm too. The feeling was pure bliss. But we were holding off celebrating the end of our trip, for we were still in Kyrgyzstan.
Almaty
Almaty is not technically part of the Pamir highway, but I thought I would give some closure on how we got back “home”. We had a morning flight to catch to Almaty. For those of you well-versed in Central Asian geography, Almaty and Bishkek are only slightly more than 200km apart from each other as both cities are very close to the Kazakh-Kyrgyz border. Most locals would take public transport overland, which is at least ten times cheaper than a plane ticket. So why did we take the plane? Because we were ignorant foreigners and did not know about it.
Our hostel helped us call a cab; a ride from the city to the airport generally costs 500-600 som. We boarded our flight without issue. When we landed, before we could get off, two medical representatives in full Hazmat suits came up the plane and took everyone’s temperature individually with a forehead thermometer. After that, we quickly crossed immigration and called a Yandex (local version of Uber) to our school. The moment we reached our school gates was like seeing the gates of heaven. Euphoric. And with that, we were safe and sound with one heck of a story to tell. Pamir Highway: Osh -Bishkek – Almaty
Epilogue
Exactly one week later, Kazakhstan closed its borders in response to the first cases of coronavirus being announced in the country. Its two major cities, Nur-sultan and Almaty also went into lockdown. Hence the timing of this trip could not have been better. You would think we were confined within the safety of our school dorms when all this news went down. Nope, my stupid ass hauled itself to Bishkek the weekend after we came back from the Pamir trip, and I nearly locked myself out of the country. Read about this misadventure in the next post.
Hi! I am Joey, a University student from Singapore, attempting to show my appreciation for the world’s most powerful passport by literally milking its visa-free benefits one country at a time. I describe my travel budget as shoestring and travel style as audacious.
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