Last night I packed most of my stuff—snowboards, clothes, and books—and got ready to move to Darkhan Village, on the south shore of Lake Issyk-Kul. I went to bed listening to Jack Johnson on my iPod, hoping that it would put me to sleep. I am buzzing with nervous anticipation. Today, I woke up early and listened to the rain outside my window for awhile. Then, after breakfast and tea, Talant, Emir, and I loaded my bags into Mederbek-Baike's car, and we drove the short distance to Rahat-Eje's host family's house.
Talant was pumping some Paula Abdul remix in the car. It was so loud the windows were rattling. I looked back at Emir. He had his hands over his ears. I threw my hand in the air and started grooving a little. Talant laughed and did the same. Up ahead, there was a girl in a short skirt and high heels walking along the muddy, potholed road, with her hood up.
''Kiz,'' Talant said. Girl.
He turned the music down, rolled down his window, pulled up alongside her, and slowed the car down to walking speed. They spoke back and forth in Russian. She didn't seem appalled, which surprised me. I couldn't tell if she was 14 or 24, because even young girls wear short skirts and high heels here, near the city. It is totally normal. When we got to an intersection, she was turning left, and we had to go straight, so he asked her for her number, and she actually gave it to him. He pulled over and entered it in his phone. It was eight in the morning, and raining, and Talant was already partying.
We dropped off my bags, spoke to Rahat-Eje briefly, and then drove back home and watched ''Troy'' in Russian. I asked Gulaim if I could clean my room before I move out, but she insisted that she would do it for me. This family's hospitality has no end.
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