sofasurfers

“Oh you should have been here three days ago, when I had three couchsurfers, and no electricity and no heating!” said our host, with mock pride. Well, as it turned out, we didn’t need to be… When we heard that our host had had a ‘bad day’ (read: he was – one whole year prematurely – taken off his community development project due to, shall we say, ‘artistic differences’ with the Kazakh director), Lindsay and I decided to do the honourable thing and cook him a couchsurfer’s dinner. Any requests, we asked. “Anything that is not drowning in oil, and dairy free makes me happy” (ie, no cuisine a la Kazakh tonight). So, with rice, roast peppers, cauliflower, onions, garlic and a good pinch of couchsurfer love, we cooked up some pot luck. And bring down the power. Yup, we only went and blew the fuse – cue blanket blackout.

The cause? Putting on the kettle, for crissakes! Isn’t it just a case of flicking the switch in the fusebox, I asked, like a spoilt Westerner. “Well…,” sighed our host. “First you need a key for the fuse box. Then you need to unscrew the fuse [apparently this design is the precursor to the flick-switch fuse that we know]. There is a Russian alcoholic in the block who can fix it – last time we bribed him with a bottle of vodka – but I don’t speak Russian [our host was sent on a Kazakh language course when he arrived, seeing as Shymkent is Kazakh heartland].” Ok! Let’s look on the bright side (ha ha…): there are advantages in not having perfect vision – the roaches (for there are) become invisible, the burnt dinner (for it was) looks prettier, and what’s the point in washing up in the dark?

Really - it looks better in the dark.