Check out my Man’s Day post at the Kiva Fellows Blog – it has some great eagle hunting shots!
Like they always seem to, my blog posts have slithered off into a dwindling trickle. After my last wallowing pice of dark humor (The Bottom Five), I am pleasantly surprised that you came back for more.
I have been busily working on completing a set of borrower verifications – Kiva checks to make sure that Kiva money is going to the people it is supposed to and there is no fraud – but decided to take a break to check out some local hot springs. It was the day before Man’s Day, a post-Soviet equivalent to the upcoming women’s day and I was looking forward to a little pampering. A few friends and I made the hour drive and hiked up to the curiously barb wired pool. It was a small pool and the water was generally warmish unless you were right at the rusted feeder pipe, where steaming hot water flowed. The only problem was that there was a flock of shower cap clad elderly Kyrgyz women keeping a tight grip on the primo spots. After about 20 minutes of patiently waiting, I realized I was going to have to act. During a changing of the guard on one of the better spouts I sidled in and hovered contentedly.
After a few minutes of enjoying the hot water the women began to try and talk with me. While I couldn’t speak Kyrgyz, one of my friends helped to translate. The conversation went something like this:
Kyrgyz Woman #1: Where are you from?
Me: The US, Chicago.
Kyrgyz Woman #2: Oooooo, very nice.
Kyrgyz Woman #2: You shouldn’t stay in the water for more then 20 minutes or you will become impotent.
This caught me off-guard. I had to consider whether this was a tactic to get me off the good spout or if she was imparting some real wisdom.
Me: Oh yea? How long does it last?
Kyrgyz Woman #1: A day
Me: That shouldn’t be a big problem then.
Round #1 to Charlie. After about an hour we decided to hike to a nearby waterfall. I quickly ran across the icy cement to a changing stall. While I was changing the gentleman in the next stall was intent on passing some vital information along. My limited Russian was catching ‘not work’. I obviously wasn’t getting it so he decided to come into my stall, point to my underwear clad nether regions and make a big X with his hands. Apparently the ladies in the pool had been correct, and my man’s day would be decidedly less manly.
In case you don’t make it to my Man’s Day post, here are some eagle hunting shots: