I saw Bishkek twice; first time at the beginning of a trip around Kyrgyzstan and second at the end. The first time was wildly cold. The second time was colder. It seemed as if the oxygen molecules freeze and were left hanging as a white fabric in the air. Which people seemed of not giving a damn, they went about their business, played weddings, bought books from street stalls, went to restaurants and theatres. We did the same.