Good bye to another friend .

What is it that defines a friend... It's funny but I seem to have a lot of people in my life that I think of as friends .. some even "good" friends.. Let me tell you about one of them.. Joldosh

( Joldosh with plants for Bermut's appartment )

Joldosh is the Tatchka ( cart ) driver from the Tokmok Bazaar. I do a LOT of shopping in the bazaar, some times 3 or four times a day I am there loading up with everything you can imagine.. fruits and Veggies, plants and household goods.. you name it and I have bought it, and most of it ends up on one perticular cart, and there is a reason that I look for this cart... When I first met Joldosh he had two young sons working in the Bazaar with him. The boys were working every day to help support the family, and that meant that they were not in school. that was back in the fall of 2007 .

I sat down with Joldosh and his sons discussed the boys futures. I hated seeing such bright young boys not in school.. But they could not afford to not have the boys working .. between them, at the time, they could earn about 35 som a day ..( 75 cents) . I made a deal with them.. I told them that as long as I never saw the boys in the bazaar during school hours, I would always look for Joldosh when I came to the bazaar , and I would PAY HIM WELL...

This arrangement seemed to work well.. The sons went back to school and were doing very well.. then last summer things began to fall apart. The youngest boy went to visit grand parents, and was killed in an accident. Then Joldosh started having stomach troubles at the same time... I think he always had a bit of a drinking problem.. after all, vodka at the bazaar was cheaper then water , but now He began drinking to cover the physical and emotional pain. This photo below was taken a few weeks after the death of his youngest son.

I continued to watch for Joldosh , and even had him help when I didn't really need it... We would attract attention and put smiles on everyone's face, especially in the spring when the bazaar was all icy and muddy... I would come in and hope up onto the front of the cart and and do my best imitation of John Luke Pekard from star trek... I would hold out my arm and say Engage.. and we would be off ... All the while we would weave through the crowds at break neck speed with Joldosh yelling JOKE JOKE JOKE.. which actually means get out of the way .. but made as all laugh non the less

most of the time I never had a translator with me, so we never really spoke... but we had fun together.. we looked out for each other and we would miss each other when I was not there . All they would have to do is hear that I was in the bazaar and they would off load what ever they were moving, and come looking for us . This spring, Joldosh was just not the same .. He was relieved to see me, and shared that he was having serious liver problems. We did what we could to help, but it was one of the most frustrating experiences... We could get him into the hospital for treatment, but as soon as he would start to detox, they would kick him out.. and we could not get him into a detox center because he was sick... all this was happening in the last few days before we left.. I just could not get cooperation with any one, and knew we would not be around to care for him ourselves. Right down to our last day we were making arrangements for a Dr to come to his home to continue treatment.. and had made arrangements that as soon as he was starting to feel better, he could go with Jengish to the rehab center...

But as I sat with him on the bench at the hospital, ( above ) I think I knew that I would never see him again... That was the day that by one in the afternoon, Julie took the cell phone away from me ( for the protection of whomever might be on the other end ), and sent me to bed by noon...
I just received word that Joldosh has passed away at 41...

( plants for the garden at the men's home )

Emma tells me my young friend is now working the bazaar every day to support the family... Talant is on his way to their home now to bring them rice and to see what we can do...

I will miss my friend .. his family was never a " project ", he was just one of those people along the way. He represented everything that was good, kind and gentle, and in some strange way he also represented everything that is hurting, helpless and lost... .. for me , he was KYRGYZSTAN