"Take my hand," she said, and simply slide her arms into mine. "Hold my hand," he said and stretched out his arm for me to grab. All this in the slippery roads of Bishkek, where care and concern supersedes personal space and awkwardness. It snowed non stop for 24 hours and the next day it rained and then next it froze... see this means ice. Growing up in Chennai the closest I got to ice was when i dung deep into my freezer for a cube of ice for my water, much to the yelling of my mother "you will catch a cold". The kindness of the people of Bishkek stood out for me... more so because it was spontaneous.
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