I stood at what felt like one of the largest intersections I had ever attempted to cross in my life. There were cars coming from every direction by way of a streetlight that hadn’t factored in pedestrians at all. My heart sinks every time I cross any street here in the Kyrgyz Republic because THEY DO NOT YIELD!
This time I stood there, and went into a state of shock. I was imagining myself being plowed by a trolley bus, or getting trapped between lanes. I know, you think I’m being dramatic. But you would be too if a hundred minibuses and cars were coming at you from several directions at over 60 mph.
I looked over at a woman next to me who took one step forward, and had a determined expression on her face to make it across the street. I don’t usually make eye contact because I like to avoid the mental exhaustion of introductions and chitchat – in not one, but two, foreign languages which I have not yet mastered.
It was not like me at all actually. I was so caught up, drowning in these horrible thoughts, that I mentally and physically couldn’t have given myself a second to look away from the dust clouds and racing tires.
But she looked at me. And I looked back. It was too late! Our eyes locked, she spoke in very fast Russian, grabbed me arm in arm, and led me across the street. I asked her name, and then she left. Her name was Aigul (eye-goul), and today, this was God coming to meet me. Read More