Yesterday, I felt like I was in Central Asia once again. I got a call from a familiar Kazakh number - someone I hadn't spoken with in a year, but whose peculiar voice instantly reminded me of one of the best weeks of my life. It was my brother Prasad, from India, telling me he was on his way to Leiria, my little hometown.

The first time I met this man was last year, at the end of July. We were both at Indira Gandhi Airport in Delhi, waiting for the next flight to Almaty. I was heading to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan, but since there were no direct flights from India, I had to transit through Kazakhstan. That’s when he said: "Vasco, if you ever come to Kazakhstan again, here’s my number."

I can now tell you, my friend Prasad, how well you fell straight into my trap! You see, a month later, I found myself planning an ambitious route to Vietnam, hoping to cross through China, and the only place I could get a Chinese visa was in Almaty, Kazakhstan.

This is the story of how I met Prasad's family. True to his word, he welcomed me with open arms, offering me the best living conditions I’d experienced in nine long months of traveling. He invited me over for dinner, introduced me to his best friends, and even lent me a bike to explore the city.

I can’t express how fulfilling it was to see this man and his family once again. The only one missing was little "Rupee", but aside from that, there’s really only one thing left to say:

"Dhanyavad", Prasad.
И спасибо вашей семье!

- Алматы, August '23
- Leiria, November '24