Goodbye, Kyrgyzstan

I leave Kyrgyzstan in less than 24 hours, quite possibly forever. I'm sad. In many ways, I want to come home. I want to see Christy, my beautiful future wife, my family, and all my friends. But eight months is a long time, definitely long enough for some extraordinarily beautiful life to flow under the bridge. You can only find Kyrgyz warmth in Kyrgyzstan. There is unique and inexpressible beauty here in the mountains and rivers, trees, flowers, deserts and plains. Nobody in the US will fully comprehend the warmth and beauty I experienced here. It makes me lonely to think about that.

I'm a wanderer at heart. I distinctly remember crossing the border from Thailand into Myanmar five years ago. Walking into Myanmar was like walking into a different world, and although I was only there to stamp my passport in the visa renewal process, I desperately wanted to head deeper into that closed and mysterious land. Yes, I was lonely for home at that point. I'd been teaching at a refugee camp for several months. But the lure of a new land was far stronger than the pull for home. I've wandered through many countries by now--Nepal, Zimbabwe, Jordan, China, Belgium, the list goes on and on. So I guess Kyrgyzstan is just another chapter in my wanderings. But it is the longest chapter, and definitely the best.

But what made it the best? Christy. Though even she will never truly understand the beauty of Kyrgyzstan, she made it come alive for me. That's what love does. I'm still a wanderer at heart, but over the past eight months, I've discovered the allure of a precious and inexpressably beautiful woman. For all the beauty of Kyrgyzstan and strength of my wandering spirit, I desperately want to see Christy again. We'll become husband and wife on June 6. Nobody will ever fully comprehend the warmth and beauty of our relationship. It makes me extraordinarly happy and content to think about that.