4 March 2010, Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan

“I think you’re sitting just a little too far away,” he said as he strained to hear what I was trying to tell him.

Both of the Kyrgyz employees had managed to ignore him, too caught up in Facebook on one of the laptop computers, so I chimed in from my desk to help out. I probably was too far away, but the fact that my mouth was full of the lunch that I was trying to wolf down wasn’t helpful, either. I apologized as I stood and walked to the counter. I started again.

“You can use a calling card to get on the telephones or you can use our directory to connect to a local base and they, in turn, will connect you to your number.

The Warrant Officer shook his head and quietly said, “I think every base is long distance from my phone.”

I pulled the directory over to me on its clip board. “Where are you calling?” I was caught off guard a little bit.

“Utah.”

I smiled and asked, “Hill Air Force Base? Tooele Army Depot? Dugway Proving Grounds?”

He smiled back. “I’m afraid that they’re all long distance. I’m about 100 miles from any of them.”

I imagined someplace like Cedar City or Fillmore. “Where are you from?” I was expecting something in my mind, but not this.

“Heber.”

“Heber City, Utah! My mother was born there!”

His eyes widened as I blurted it out. “What was her name?”

I couldn’t believe that more than half way around the world I was talking to someone from Heber City! “Murdock. Maybe you know some of the Murdocks in Heber—Pete or Vernon or Lee.”

He didn’t take long to start making the connections. “I know Vernon really well! I grew up in the Third Ward! Millie!” That name had just popped into his head as he spoke.

“She was my grandmother!”

“It is a small world! I delivered papers to Millie. I know Lee and his wife, Barbara.”

The world continued to shrink as we spoke. “Are there any mountains around here? We can’t really see much from here.”

I pointed to the south and began to explain, “Just south of us is a tall range called the A’la Too Range. Kyrgyzstan has the nickname ‘Switzerland of Central Asia.’” He asked if the range joins with the Hindu Kush. “It joins with the Hindu Kush at the Pamir Knot.”

He broke in and told me that he’s spent the last few months flying circles over the Hindu Kush Mountains. “They said that we could see K2 from where we were, but I could never distinguish it from all of the other tall peaks. It’s just endless mountain ranges there.”

“Are you on your way home, then?” I already felt like I knew the answer.

“Yes.”

I decided to extend the invitation to church.

“I’m hoping to be out of here on Saturday, but if I get stuck here for a couple of days I’ll come. We had about 40 people at church each Sunday in Baghram. There are lots of good people here. We’re doing a lot of good.”

I reached out and shook his hand. “If there’s anything I can do for you while you’re here, let me know. My name’s Jed Clark.”

“Lynn Adams. Nice to meet you.”