Sign of life from Bukhara

(From Svöbi)

Hello all

Finally a new letter, it took me a while. I still am rather lazy to write, so I try to keep it short.

From Bishkek in Kirgysztan we left to Lake Yssyk Kul, to relax a bit, me in the foothills of the mountains first, then at the lake proper. From there we went back to Bishkek to pick up our Kazakh transit visa and went off to Tashkent. In Kazakhstan we went camping two times always asking farmers if we could stay on their land. Its too flat and treeless otherwise...

In Uzbekistan we were greeted by an annoyingly slow border with guards who had no idea how to handle our car customs-wise, and then the Registrazija started. Its police registering you and everything. In a big book that no one ever reads. This takes time, too. Then, finally, we could go. But lo, after a couple hundred metres the next roadblock, my Ice cream was not even finished yet. There they wanted us to pay an environment tax. This seems ok, since you get some sort of official sticker-thingy with trees on it. But since the receipt we were supposed to sign was in Russian, we refused to pay or to sign. Then we found out that the fishy 17 Dollars were only for foreigners, Central Asians had only to pay 5. Wo in the end we refused to pay and annoyed them so long that they let us go. They said that we would have to pay a shtraf, a fine, when we got caught again, $40, but we risked it. Then, after a few kilometres, the next stop. They were probably informed, because after complaining that we could not enter with such a dirty car, he was asking for the environment tax thingy. We prepared to argue, but then some way overloaded car was passing, and the cop suddenly lost interest in us and off we went.

No problems ever after. Some registratija sometimes, but never any problems. Usually they are curious from where this weird number plate is from, and chat a little, but are very friendly.

A word on cops. For all of you who know Louis de Funes films, you know how they look. They are usually Uzbek, almost never Russian (you have to talk Uzbek in order to become a cop, after paying the entering fee - no police academy, just pay and you are in). They all look like gangsters, but usually are always ready for a little fun and are friendly to us foreigners. There are so many of them that I wonder how people can spit on the streets without hitting one. I heard that there are 400000 (yes, four hundred thousand) of them in Tashkent alone. Looking around, this number seems to be correct. There are even more policemen than in Switzerland. The result is rather annoying.

Sometimes it feels as if the cop uniform is given out to any jobless in a country with really few jobs available...

Well enough of that.

In Tashkent we stayed in two different flats, the first two nights in a small one room flat, then we moved to a roomy, many room apartement right next to the French embassy very near the center. This was so nice that it even had a washing machine for the clothes, just to give you an idea. We payed $30 per night for the whole thing (not per person), which is rather ok, regarding that all hotels except really crappy ones are more expensive.

It would have been much more expensive for several reasons, I wont list them here. Anyways, this influenced our next days greatly. In Uzbekistan you have to go to the OVIR (=KGB) office to register three days after entry. I only tell that much: It took a whole day, several trips around the city, $15 per person for a useless document, verry annoying discussions, and in the end it didnt work anyways. We registered with the owner of the second flat in the end, which involved the usual $20 fee, but also a $25 bribe. So any advice: stay in a hotel for the first night, then you are registered. Undoubtedly, the exit border will be interesting again...

I went for a little excursion into the hills east of Angren, direction of Ferghana, which was nice. Except that I had a flat tire near a cement factory, and when fixing it, many people were helping. I must have forgotten to close the window or the door, and so my digicam with 150 pictures from Bishkek to Tashkent was gone. I hope the lightning strikes the thief while taking a dump, if you allow me to cite you, Tuco. Now I use Hyneks, but still mine was so nicely camouflaged and those 150 pictures... Shit.

Later we went to Samarkand, which finally offered some Silk Road flair after all those Sovjet monoliths. Some amazing sights, the Registan occupied by rehearsals for a end-of- August festival for most of the day (including the golden hour before sunset), but tolerant cops which let me in after I took a picture of them, and also the next day they let me in again). We stayed in an interesting house. A nice, cool, garden courtyard, an artist living there and his friends. We really had a very good time there. Didnt really want to leave such a friendly and peaceful place, but we had to move on. We had lots of vodka, and I had some too many the last night, so the drive to Bukhara the next morning was horrible. The heat didnt really help, either.

Now we are in ye olde Bukhara, veeery touristy, shops on every corner, and "pencil yes, bonbonyes, mister, what is your name good morning" in your ears from the kids, "my shop please, welcome, please mistaaar" from the others. But it actually IS amazing. Really beautiful. And in general the people are very nice once they accept that you wont buy anything. I guess that they also feel the lack of tourism that usually sets in with the paranoia when bad news come from a country. Here it is more understandable than in Pakistan, at least, since the shooting in Andijan was rather recently and the president is still in power.

Tomorrow we leave to Chiva, then Nukus, then 10 days of Turkmenistan. Now this will be interesting. I will let you know once we are in Iran, since there is no internet in Turkmenistan (not for our use anyways, except in one place or so I heard).

Now I have to go visit the jail where they threw in Stoddard and his friend into the bugpit (They didnt have a letter of introduction from Queen Victoria, but merely from the shabby gouvernor of India), before dumping them down from the 45m high minarett (or so the story goes). I went up, it really is quite high. Good view.

Greetings to all I didnt write to, and salaam to you all,

Matthias

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