Running in Kyrgyzstan - seven years later

Back in my youth, I posted this blog about my negative experiences running in Kyrgyzstan. After re-reading it (seven years later – oh my God, has it really been so long?!), I believe that the bitterness, sarcasm, and poor attempt at tongue-in-cheek humor evident in this post was actually an expression of my deep frustration about the constant negative attention that I attracted as a blond foreigner living in southern Kyrgyzstan.

I thought about those experiences yesterday as I jogged to the stadium and completed my requisite laps. I continue to run in Bishkek, but I’m rarely bothered. Yes, people often look at me like I have two heads, but no one makes rude comments and no one ever throws things at me. Yesterday, another casual jogger even smiled and said hello as we passed each other on the track!

It’s difficult to pinpoint what exactly is different. The culture in the north of Kyrgyzstan is certainly less conservative than the culture in the southern regions, more exposed to foreigners, and slightly economically better-off. Could it also be the passage of time, and people’s minds opening to other ways of doing things? I know that I have also changed since I was last in Kyrgyzstan – I’m much less sensitive to being perceived as an outsider and I could care less if people make jokes about me. So maybe my previous negative experience were all in my head (though people throwing balls of ice at you is about as physical as it gets).  

My host-mom runs at the track in eastern Bishkek.

So, I’m continuing to run here and even enjoying it. To be fair, it’s early days yet and there’s no telling what the future will bring. Maybe it’s too cold for the hecklers to hang out at the stadium. It’s certainly too cold for people to be exposing themselves, as they did from time to time in Bazar Korgon. But, there’s snow and ice galore for the throwing and I haven’t been pelted yet, so things are looking positive.