BISHKET, KYRGYZSTAN

Cultural Revelations My beliefs shattered of who is a Muslim. Watching families, different clans, clothing ranging from Western to tribal costumes, play in splaying fountains. Suddenly noticing how many Asiatic women, in this secular state, are covered. The call to prayer, having disappeared in the former Soviet-stans, returns, softly wafting over us in our steppe campsite. A scratchy recording; like sunflowers we turn east towards the voice of Mecca. I promised an update describing my trip mates. Time twists initial perceptions, small mercies and generosities bade forgiveness. Here goes: Betrayed loving heart, cruelly deflated, fills with heavy fury. Heated declarations can't raise thud-thudding along the ground. Needs open space to get up again. The " I am worthy moment " blinds bystanders. Dilated pupils see the magic, not the method. So much natural power, how to direct it? It's hard to concede that glory has an expiration date. Protect or isolate? Loving arms may squeeze life from you or dislodge a bit too big to swallow. How can you tell the difference? Just happy being chosen and asking no more than that. Old hippy trail stuff just isn't making it anymore; so what to do? Tantalize baby with a thinly strung mobile. The thin man is fat on substance, listen quietly between courses; generous proportions. Never wanting to be more than ordinary; wishes wrapped in regrets come true. Beautiful without guise; happy in the world. Emotion coated with pained laugher, true feelings are rendered indistinguishable. Running away from the past, following old footprints into the future. Lots of tears are coming. Steady and stand fast, earnest and fair. Judging others against her standards mean we all fall a bit short. Third eyed mystical lovely soul; radiates joy. Soooooooo British, in a good way. Redeeming features: dogged determination and a stunningly vulgar vocabulary. His insights, built on a superior education, aren't flaunted but handed round to anyone listening carefully. A ghostly hand, a shadow. Mean little man, always hiding; the rabble voice in the crowd, the brick thrown in the night. Stillness is a magnet for life; a quiet attraction. Boys to men in his own good time. Blind guide dog.