The lunch we just received turned out to be besh barmak over rice. That seemed like enough, until a delicacy came out I’ve only ever seen once before: the organ sack, stuffed with rice, organ meat and fat, tied up to look like a duck, complete with a beak made of a carrot. It was presented to Tony, with command, “either you buy it, or you shoot it.” (This rhymes in Kyrgyz).
All of us foreigners thought the village trip was finished after this meal. However, on the way out of town, we stopped in a large building from Soviet times. We had joked about it being abandoned earlier in the day, but we have found it to be very much inhabited, by a number of families. One of these families is part o one of the goat groups, and it is this family that is hosting us now.
As per usual, the outside of the building looks cold and very Soviet, but once inside, it is a world of color. There are rugs on the walls, shyrdaks on the floors, and brightly colored table cloths. I can see another room full of food, though I know the KNZRT brass are eager to get on the move. We’ve a workshop to plan for Friday, and these group visits, as necessary and valuable as they are, seriously dig into that planning.
In the mean time, however, the usual pattern is developing: we’re in the quiz show right now. While they’ve proclaimed to spend only ten minutes here, I don’t know how they’ll fit the touchy-feely portion and the food into that small amount of time.
