a bit of news from my newsless world

Thank you for visiting my blog. I'm sorry that I don't have anything exciting or earth-shattering things (like the earthquake) to talk about. But I do have this rather drab one:

Instead of having revolutionary activities to enthrall all you staters (and Cris), I'm now going to talk about a very run-of-the-mill occurance. Death. It has to happen to everybody, it's just a matter of where, when and how that you may (or may not) have control over. In this instance I don't think that the person in question had control over it.

I don't know the person's name or who they are or even what color underwear (if any) they had on that day. But I do feel sorry for whatever his name was. I don't feel as sorry for his underwear. This occurance occured outside of Temerlan's parent's aparptment building. Aparptment buildings in Kyrgyzstan look very much as they do in Russia. Probally because the Soviets built them. When the aparptment buildings finally fall down the Kyrgyz people will resort to living in refridgerator boxes. As Temerlan and I were walking to the moncho last weekend we stepped outside of his parent's aparptment building to an abulance with lights blazing and people standing around. Not standing around gasping, just standing around like they'd seen this happen a thousand times. That's what Kyrgyz people do. As we drew closer we saw a person lying on the ground about where a fall from a fifth-story window would put said person. Blood was oozing from the man's, about twenty-five or thirty, head and he wasn't moving. I don't know if he was dead or not, but he was pretty still. I wonder what he was doing. Probally drinking. Kyrgyz men do that a lot. But of course I don't know, so I won't pass judgement. Doesn't make me a very good judge.



The Moral to this Story:
Death happens in Kyrgystan too.



Another Moral to this Story:
Stay away from fifth-story windows.