If bacon, lobster tail and Chicago-style steaks are your thing, the last few months have been a good time to dine out in Kyrgyzstan’s capital.

An abundance of the unusual gourmet items has raised eyebrows in Bishkek, where U.S. military contractors and café proprietors claim with knowing winks that Kyrgyzstan’s sudden flood of bacon strips, seafood and steaks can only have come from one place.

An official at the nearby Manas Transit Center, a critical logistics hub for the NATO-led war in Afghanistan, admitted this month that food losses from the facility have totaled 40,000 dollars since December.

Allegations of theft from the facility are nothing new, but the latest leak appears to be distorting the city’s relatively small market for high-end meat and seafood, prompting opportunities and resentment in equal measure.

One local supplier of pork products complained bitterly that trade had been lean over recent months, something he attributes to the theft of “masses of quality American bacon” designated for U.S. soldiers and contractors. The imported bacon, he complains, is sold for 350 soms per kilo (7.50 dollars), undercutting him by about 50 percent.

Like other businessmen interviewed by EurasiaNet.org for this story, the pork supplier requested anonymity out of safety concerns, believing the flourishing contraband trade was “absolutely organised” and run by figures “either flying under the radar of, or connected to, the country’s criminal groups”.

A local café owner, who serves bacon his supplier claims comes from Manas, said that two middlemen flogging the rashers “used to go door to door. They were quite open about where it came from. But now you can get it everywhere – in bazaars, shops, supermarkets.”

When a EurasiaNet.org correspondent visited Eurogourmaniya, a new delicatessen specialising in imported products, shop assistants showed a vacuum-sealed pack of bacon identical to the one the café owner displayed. Such cuts are uncommon in Kyrgyzstan.

Though pork is widely available in Bishkek and other towns with large ethnic Russian populations, local ham is not sold in strips like U.S.-style bacon. (And though Kyrgyzstan is nominally a Muslim country, few people seem to adhere to Islamic dietary law, which prohibits the consumption of pork or alcohol.)

The base is “aware” of food losses totaling 40,000 dollars over the past three months, a spokesperson said on Mar. 1, adding that “this is the largest incident where food products have gone missing that the Transit Center is aware of.” The Manas spokesperson refused to discuss which specific items have gone missing.

This won’t be the first time the Pentagon has been accused of wasting federal money in the Central Asian state. In 2011, a 750,000-dollar women’s shelter that opened with much fanfare the year before was found deserted; it had cost one-third of Manas’ annual humanitarian budget.

Manas is “reviewing current operating procedures”, the spokesperson said. Base officials are working hard “to ensure subsistence food items are only used for their intended purpose by their intended recipients”.

But what may be an embarrassment for the U.S. is a business opportunity for others.

A waitress at a 24-hour Bishkek lounge, Live Bar, boasted that the restaurant’s menu had “expanded since December”, to include lobster and various types of steak, two items that are thought to have gone missing in large quantities from Manas in December. The waitress claimed the lobster was “imported”, although she could not cite its provenance.

Another restaurant in the capital celebrated Defenders of the Fatherland Day in late February with a crab and beer night. Kyrgyzstan is landlocked and shellfish is not a staple on most restaurant menus.

Another restaurant serves A.1. Steak Sauce in bottles marked, in English, “not for resale”, suggesting it is not procured on local markets.

One U.S. defense contractor with almost eight years experience in Kyrgyzstan said theft from Manas has been common “almost since the base arrived” in 2001.

“A few years ago we had ‘sweetgate’ – local guys getting caught leaving the base with packs of jelly beans duck-taped to their chests. But this thing is bigger. This stuff must be going out with the waste,” he told EurasiaNet.org.

On the contractor’s recommendation, a EurasiaNet.org correspondent visited Yolki Palki, an upmarket restaurant selling T-bone steaks that contractors say bear a striking resemblance to the steaks served at Manas.

Succulent and tender, the meat was certainly a cut above the beef sold in local markets. But unable to extract detailed information about the steak’s origin from the restaurant’s manager, EurasiaNet.org cannot verify on taste alone the contractor’s claim that Yolki Palki’s steaks are “Chicago good”.

*This story originally appeared on EurasiaNet.org.

Uzbekistan has introduced sweeping new banking and import regulations that appear designed to keep hard currency from leaving the country.

Observers say residents and entrepreneurs should expect a bumpy ride in the coming months, as the cumbersome new measures are expected to drive up prices for basic goods and encourage an expansion of the shadow economy.

At the beginning of February, new rules regulating foreign currency exchange basically made it impossible for Uzbeks to get their hands, legally, on hard currency. Under the new rules, residents can only trade Uzbek sums for virtual hard currency loaded onto plastic banking cards for use abroad or online, not cash.

At the same time, authorities began arresting the currency traders who operate in a thriving black market, where the U.S. dollar fetches approximately 40 percent more than banks offer in exchange for sums.

While the exchange regulations received widespread attention, on Jan. 30 customs authorities also quietly introduced new import rules requiring mountains of paperwork. According to the State Customs Committee, importers must now submit “preliminary” customs declarations for all imported goods 30 days in advance.

Along with the preliminary declaration, importers are also required to procure certificates showing goods’ compliance with Uzbekistan’s strict and oft-changing hygienic, conformity and veterinary standards. The new steps add more paperwork to an already burdensome process.

And in Uzbekistan – routinely classified as one of the most corrupt countries on the planet; Transparency International ranks it tied for 170th out of 174 countries surveyed in its most recent Corruption Perceptions Index – paperwork often gives authorities a chance to find errors, perceived or real, and solicit bribes.

Officially, the new customs regulations stated aim is to “further fundamentally improve the business environment and provide greater freedom to entrepreneurship” and to “liberalize” foreign trade. But with the regulations announced so suddenly, after no public discussion, few are taking authorities at their word.

Instead, some regional media outlets have suggested authorities are trying to keep hard currency from leaving the country; others speculate that authorities are protecting the business interests of a well-connected individual or family (not unheard of in Uzbekistan).

Either way, analysts say it is difficult to imagine Uzbekistan’s limited domestic manufacturing base offering substitutes of sufficient quantity and quality to offset the expected price fluctuations as goods disappear from store shelves.

Import restrictions in Uzbekistan are hardly news: In 2000, Tashkent banned individuals from importing goods for resale. In 2009, the maximum value of goods that could be imported duty-free for personal consumption was reduced to 10 dollars per person.

These rules turned travel abroad for the average Uzbek into a troublesome experience. Long lines are now routine at border crossings, as customs officers sift through bags to identify items subject to customs duties or seizure (or another chance to solicit a bribe).

Because high import tariffs already make consumer goods in Uzbekistan expensive, many Uzbeks have long preferred to shop in neighbouring countries such as Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan. This practice is growing increasingly difficult under the existing regulations.

Unsurprisingly, when it comes to facilitating cross-border trading, the World Bank recently ranked Uzbekistan as the worst performer out of 185 countries surveyed in its Doing Business report for 2013.

Coupled with the latest foreign currency restrictions, analysts believe the new import regulations aim to prevent Uzbekistan’s foreign exchange and gold reserves from dwindling. (By limiting imports, the idea is the authorities are limiting the outflow of precious foreign cash and gold. Most analysts consider current account statistics unreliable).

Tashkent does not publish data on its reserves, or what share of its export earnings are channeled into replenishing reserves. But given the government’s reluctance to borrow, the restrictions on the circulation of hard cash suggest Tashkent is having trouble balancing the books.

“Coming on the back of the recent changes to currency regulations, one reason for the import restrictions is likely to be that the government is seeking to protect the country’s foreign-exchange reserves,” Anna Walker, a Central Asia analyst at the London-based Control Risks consultancy, told EurasiaNet.org.

“It also probably reflects a long-standing policy of encouraging import-substituting industrialization, though this policy has failed to foster a dynamic, domestic industrial sector that produces goods capable of competing with imports.”

Walker doubts the Uzbek government can achieve its economic goals by administrative fiat alone.

“Given the prevalence of imported goods in most sectors, it is highly unlikely that domestically produced goods will be able to substitute for imports. The government’s attempts to attract foreign investment in sectors other than natural resources have been largely unsuccessful, and the domestic manufacturing sector does not have the capacity to fill the gap left by the new import restrictions,” Walker added.

The stifling import and currency regulations often force Uzbek entrepreneurs to operate in the shadows. Privately, many confess they can only survive by bribing tax and customs officials.

One entrepreneur, a jeweler, who agreed to talk to EurasiaNet.org on condition of anonymity, said he thought any new import restrictions were done for one reason only: “To prevent the outflow of foreign currency from the country.”

The new restrictions are likely to backfire, driving up prices and pushing more entrepreneurs into the shadow economy, Walker said: “The immediate result is likely to be an increase in prices, as the availability of goods diminishes, as well as growth in the shadow economy as consumers and retailers attempt to get round the restrictions.”

While there has not yet been a visible impact on the prices for essentials in the capital, Tashkent, the restrictions have started hurting supplies. One shopkeeper told EurasiaNet.org that he was having trouble sourcing chocolate and candy. While other items were still in stock, he explained, his local suppliers have stopped accepting and delivering orders.

Editor’s note: Murat Sadykov is the pseudonym for a journalist specialising in Central Asian affairs.

This story was originally published by EurasiaNet.org.

Former university graduates, current students and professors are embroiled in an unusual scandal this exam season, as news reports filtering in from around the Balkans reveal a major online trade in stolen final papers.

“I was shocked when I recognised my final paper, with only its title changed, posted on the website of my (Alma Mater) and credited to another person,” said Jelena Stojanovic (31), who graduated from the Belgrade Technology Faculty six years ago.

“I contacted the girl listed as the author and she admitted to buying the paper for 3,000 dinars (33 dollars) on a site that offers a database of final papers in all areas (of study),” Stojanovic told IPS. “I protested to my faculty, but they said it’s currently impossible to establish if the graduation paper is forged or not.”

Under the current education system, high schools and most university faculties require students to complete extensive final papers in order to be eligible for graduation. But the requirement appears to be too much effort for many, who are turning to the digital world for a quick fix to their end-of- semester blues.

Stojanovic is just one of thousands of graduates whose final papers have appeared on the seemingly enormous number of sites that offer term papers for a sum of 33-110 dollars, depending on the area of expertise. Short midterm papers or high school essays are sold for about five dollars.

‘Customers’ are offered the option of paying online using Serbian dinars, Croatian kunas, Bosnian marks and euros for Montenegro, as the database is easily able to serve Serbs, Croats, Bosniaks and Montenegrins due to the similar language spoken throughout the region.

The market is huge and covers an area of more than 15 million people. Serbia alone has a population of a million students at all levels of education.

“I believe that the universities’ practice of posting graduation papers online is being abused,” Stojanovic said. “But there’s no way to prove it or take legal action.”

So far, there is no clear law governing this kind of scheme in Serbia or anywhere else in the region. Experts say the laws are slow to follow the developments of modern technology.

“For the time being, the only way (to avoid the scandal) would be to register one’s graduation paper as intellectual property and sue those who use it illegally,” according to Vladimir Maric, from the Institute for Intellectual Property.

In the meantime, the business of obtaining online final papers appears to be flourishing.

Creators of the databases seem to have access to some of Serbia’s biggest Internet providers – thousands of netizens recently received an e-mail offering a shopping spree at a site with readymade graduation papers for high schools and various university faculties.

The papers on offer covered 44 areas, ranging from short essays on Serbian writers to highly sophisticated works on the history of Serbian international relations to analyses of technological processes in the textile industry.

Users must register and pay a small membership fee in order to gain access to the site, but they in turn are given no information about the site’s operators.

It was only recently that Serbia was “able to ban mobile phones and ensure that sophisticated equipment such as bugs were excluded from final exams,” said economics professor Rade Mitrovic.

“But we seem to be one step behind the imagination of students and their helpers,” he added.

Though there are no formal laws on cheating in Serbia, students caught doing so can be prevented by teachers at any education level – be it high school or university – from sitting the exam. They are usually allowed to take the exam the following semester.

So far, only one site with contents described as “illegal” has been shut down in Serbia and that too only because the Association of Serbian Publishers decided to push for closure of the site, which contained e-books by both domestic and international authors; universities and high schools have yet to take action.

Meanwhile, the public was recently stunned by the discovery that various degrees were forged as well.

“We recently checked some 2,000 diplomas (belonging to workers at) the electricity company of Montenegro,” said Velimir Tmusic, head of the inspection in Belgrade. “About 10 percent were forged, mostly from the Faculty of Law and the Faculty of Economics in Pristina.”

In the past decades, many Montenegrins studied in Serbia or in Kosovo, so the check had to be carried out in Belgrade. Pristina, now Kosovo’s capital, was under the Serbian education system until 1999.

“Most of the forgeries were from the 90s,” Tmusic added, referencing the decade when lawlessness was common in the war-torn region.

Now, a simmering scandal about the newly elected president Tomislav Nikolic (60) is adding to the confusion.

Nikolic’s official biography says he graduated in 2007, and obtained a Master’s degree in 2011 at the Faculty for Management in the northern town of Novi Sad.

However Nikolic himself claimed that in 2007 he was studying at the Faculty of Law in his native Kragujevac. He was also unable, during a recent TV interview, to name a single professor at his alleged alma mater in Novi Sad. The public is still waiting for the president to clear these lingering doubts.

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