Friday March 15

Today we travelled to a couple of villages along the south shore of Lake Issuk-kul.   We were hoping for good photos of the lake but unfortunately pea soup struck as we reached the first shore and made for a very slow trip most of the way.   And of course there were no photos.   Our driver was Begiam in her "new" to her, Audi and fortunately she was very careful.

We went to a school followed by a NGO rehabilitation centre in a hospital.   In both places we were inundated with parents and children wanting help.   The day was mixed between feeling desperate for a couple of very sad cases and elated at being to help most with a few clues to make life easier and give hope for the future.  People, including parents, helpers and teachers were grateful.   We were told the parents were amazed at how kind and gentle and smiling we were.  No need for my children to comment on this please. 

At one stage I looked across at Catriona and Deanne who looked like a mixture of the Pied Piper and Jesus healing the sick.
One interesting time was speaking to a parent with two interpreters, one to translate my English into Russian, and another the turn the Russian into Kyrgyz!

Lunch was a splendid affair provided by the school and hand cooked by a couple of the teachers.    I could write a complete blog on the food we have experienced here.   Today's surprise was little parcels of air called borsok- see photo, accompanied by a capsicum type of salsa called "winter salad"!!!

We left for home through more thick fog but caught the last part of the lake bathed in afternoon sun with the mountains on the far side, seemingly rising out of the water.   Other snow capped mountains around were also awesome, often in stark contrast to the dry, bare ground of the end of winter.

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Saw the most splendid round about of the trip today.

Eat your heart out Walcha!!!!

Note the little man in traditional Kyrgyz hat.



We passed many flocks of hairy, ragged sheep, most having a very bad hair day, more often on the road than off.   Quite often, whatever variety of animal was on the road appeared to have no drover or shepherd.   At one stage there was a little group of sheep trotting quite fast along a village street, entirely on their own, obviously taking themselves somewhere important. 
We had a lovely trip home accompanied by the lady I told you about on Monday.   Suddenly, from the back seat, she broke into singing "Give thanks with a grateful heart" in Russian and heartedly joined by our interpreter driver.   We then sang it in English.
Home for good old familiar pizza and a movie.