Last week I asked PC for permission to come to Bishkek this Wednesday. Tuesday morning, less than 24 hours before I was planning to leave Osh, I got an email saying that my trip was approved. Talk about cutting it close. I managed to purchase a plane ticket, get to the airport at 8 am, and get to the bazaar in Bishkek without getting ripped off. That's an achievement, I think.

When I met up with my friend Nurgul at Fatboy's (an ex-pat restaurant) for coffee, I felt great. I hadn't realized how much I needed a break from Osh. While in town, I wanted to inquire about getting visas for my upcoming trip to India and Pakistan, so Nurgul and I went to the Indian embassy right after Fatboy's.

I read in my Lonely Planet Central Asia guide that the Indian embassy here accepts visa applications between 2-4 pm so we arrived right at 2 to find out that applications must be submitted between 9 and 11 am. So I got the form, and then tried to explain to the Russian receptionist that I'm Pakistani-born, that India is going to take my passport and use it as a paperweight or something for three months before actually giving me my visa, or at least that's what they do in the States, so I had to submit it then. She didn't want to deal with me, so she let me speak to the consular officer who then drilled me about my family history, and gave me a lecture about being an ignorant ABCD (American Born Confused Desi, even though I'm PAKISTANI born!) when I couldn't remember exactly which little Indian village my father was from. But all my problems were solved when I got my dad on the phone and had him speak to the officer. That's so typically Indian... Even on the visa application, they ask for your father's name or your male spouse's name. Grr. As soon as my dad spoke to the consular officer, I was granted an interview with the ambassador himself, who, upon hearing that my parents were doctors in Pakistan, gave me a visa right then and there. Indians...

Because of the craziness at the Indian embassy, Nurgul and I were late for our 4 o'clock meeting with the Pakistani ambassador, but because he's a close, personal friend of hers, he didn't even mind. I had my second cup of real coffee for the day (woohoo!) with him, and we talked about random stuff for two hours, and it turns out that I have a distant relative from Pakistan living in Bishkek! It's such a small world! AGH! And about my visa... next time I'm in Bishkek, we'll sit down for another cup of coffee as it's prepared. Score.

Today, I had a meeting scheduled with someone at the resource center in the American Embassy, and because I was a little late for it, I wasn't allowed past the gate. They wouldn't even let me reschedule the appointment because appointments have to be made by phone. Of course the only embassy that gave me trouble was my own. Of course.