Whenever I am in Bishkek, the capital of Kyrgyzstan, I wake early and run in the central stadium. I enjoy it for two reasons: first, it’s one of the few places where I can exercise without Bishkek’s feral dogs attacking my ankles, and, second, that I actually run on the track provides endless amusement for the gaggle of Kyrgyz politicians I lap as they amble and shoot the breeze.
Some of my stadium acquaintances hold positions of power. Others do not. This week, those on the in and those on the out swapped places. I’m certain, though, that it will be the same gaggle at the track next week, negotiating ever-changing alliances while the rest of Bishkek sleeps.… Seguir leyendo »