Monday,
October 28, 2002
Chirchik, Uzbekistan
Akmal goes to Tashkent
My host sister had some kind of surgery and had to stay at the
hospital in Tashkent all week. My host mother spent much of the
week keeping her company, which left me spending quality time
with my 10-year-old host brother, Akmal. I went to Tashkent twice
this weekend with some other trainees, and I took Akmal with me
both times. He's a kid in a poor family; he rarely ever gets to
go to Tashkent, and certainly not with a bunch of older Americans.
He doesn't speak English, but I communicate with him completely
in Uzbek, and we don't have any problems.
On Saturday, we went to Chorsu, a huge bazaar in Tashkent. They
sell everything from garden hoes to musical instruments to clothing
to food to furniture at Chorsu. There is an entire domed building
devoted to spices and dried fruits and nuts.
To get anywhere around Tashkent, you have to ride on the Metro.
Tashkent is the only Central Asian city with a Metro. The Soviets
built in the 70's. It is kept sparkling clean, patrolled heavily
by the militsia (local police), and its stations are adorned with
colorful tilework and beautiful chandeliers. Taking pictures is
not allowed.
At Chorsu, like everywhere else in Uzbekistan, I'm not an American,
I'm a hindustanka, or Indian girl. We were certainly an interesting
group walking around the bazaar that day. Three white Americans,
one hindustanka, and a little Uzbek boy. There was no point in
trying to blend in that day. We took a taxi on our way back to
Chirchik. As we were trying to negotiate a fair price, the driver
kept quoting a price for four people, although there were five
of us (Akmal included) standing in front of him. He finally looked
at Akmal and said, "Who are you with?" I replied, "He's
with us. He's my little brother." He let out a nervous, confused
chuckle and gave us a ride home.
The next day, my friend Shari, her Russian host sister, Akmal
and I went to the Tashkent zoo. Another interesting group; there
wasn't a common language among us. It was what I expected a third-world
zoo to be: a skinny lion, some bored monkeys and a zebra that
paced back and forth in front of the bars as if planning his escape
as soon as someone opened the pen. I found it depressing, but
Akmal loved it. He got to see animals he's only read about in
his school books. He got to hold a lion cub, touch an enormous
snake and see sharks and monkeys.
After the zoo, we went to Broadway, a large avenue in the center
of Tashkent. Broadway is a strange place. All along the sides
and in the middle of the road, there are many shops. They sell
paintings, instruments, old Soviet propaganda (pins, medallions,
currency, books), jewelry, Uzbek miniature statues, and all sorts
of other stuff. But there are also karaoke tents, video arcades,
carnival-type game booths, and food vendors selling hot dogs,
popcorn, ice cream and drinks. And scattered throughout the street,
there are cassette and CD vendors who blast their latest Uzbek
or Russian dance remixes out into the crowds. It's a crazy place.
Later that day, our neighbor asked Akmal what he had done that
day. Akmal said, "after the zoo, we went to some kind of
bazaar." I asked him what he saw there. He said, "everything!"
All in all, it was an exciting weekend for a kid who never leaves
is microdistrict.
