COSing

Which means Close of Service. That's right, I'm leaving. As are the other 50some people in my group. Our CD (Country Director) asked the government to give us long term visas, or else. And the "or else" is upon us. We're all scheduled to convene in Tashkent by Friday morning, and we will begin departing in the days soon after (by the end of the month, when all our visas run out). There's still a hope of staying, but given the usual speed of the Ubek government, I'd say it is a slim hope.

What does that mean? Well, the CD said that we'd have the option of going back to the US, or maybe transferring to another country. I'm almost sure to do the former, and spend some time thinking about what I'll be doing. We'll get some more info this weekend, and there are some programs leaving in the fall that I might be interested in. But for now, I have no plans.

So if anyone wants to see me, let me know. I'll be heading to Minneapolis first. After that, I have no home to speak of, so whoever can spot me a couch or spare bed will be priveleged to my presence.

Farghana Troubles

Not much to report from my part of Uzbekistan. The uprisings in "the Valley" (Farghana Valley) are fairly distant from here, and unlikely to manifest itself in this area. If things progress into Tashkent (unlikely, IMHO) I'm sure they'll start whisking us away. FWIW, I'm not that far from a couple of (unofficial) borders.

Gulistan

I have another month on my visa, and I've made it to site!!

But little is going on here in Gulistan. My Russian held me for a couple days, and now there's nothing left to discuss. Although my family does keep asking me if I'm married. As one of a few, maybe 10, Americans in town, people tend to remember me. Which is nice, but I have a hard time remembering everyone that I've met. And it's nearly impossible to remember all the Uzbek names that get thrown at me.

Tashkent

No more news - that is, no new visa (at least for me). 37 people have received their visas and have gone to site. 4 people have dropped out. The rest of us sit here in Tashkent and wait...

Tonight several of us went to see a football (soccer) game. Tickets were 600 cym for the cheap seats (benches) and 800 cym for the good seats. We shelled out the 20 cents extra for the premier seats. Attendance was somewhere between 400 and 600, depending on whether or not you count the militsia. The fans chewed away on their pumpkin seeds, with one old Uzbek guy in front of us really whopping it up for Pakhtor (the 3-0 winners).

Afterwards we had some great Turkish food, then went to the most amazing grocery store I've ever seen here (for Uzbekistan). Almost, almost US-like in scale and realm. We also walked along the street that sells every appliance known to civilized man, but unseen in these parts. I was seriously tempted by the washing machines (I've done my laundry once here, and it's not fun - i.e. it's by hand).

For tomorrow, I'm thinking of going to the opera or maybe the ballet (tickets start at 1000 cym). Or maybe just hang out in the PC office some more and watch a movie. I'm scheduled to leave for site on Monday afternoon (visa willing).

Waiting to leave

New news:

I passed my language exam

I was officially sworn in as a volunteer.

I have a visa... until May 1.

We're suppose to be getting extended visas soon, but they keep saying that and nothing happens. So, we're all just hanging out waiting for the word to leave for site. Except for the staff, they're hard at work - on a staff retreat.

Tulip Trouble

Thanks to our neighbors, we may be running into more visa complication. When the situation in Krygystan broke out, our on going visa negotations were halted. PC also had to devote resources to obtaining visas for the Kyrgy PCVs (some of whom are here now, but will be going back tomorrow). So... in the immediate, we may not be able to progress to site as originally scheduled (April 5th or 6th). In the longer term, the Uz government is going to be a lot more resistent to giving us long term visas. What with us being such a bad influence and all. It's probably also going to make the crackdown on NGOs gear back up.

So that's the update on how we're being effected.

Happy Navrus!!!

Let me be the first, and probably only person to wish you all a Happy Navrus!! What is Navrus, you ask? Only “by far the biggest Central Asian Holiday” (LP). I believe it's the Muslim New Year, also know as the Spring Solstice. Not just that, but itÂ’s another day off for our language weary souls. Although a lot of Uzbeks like "volunteer" to help clean up the neighborhoods. Things like paint the trees, sweep the streets, and burn the ever increasingly foul piles of garbage. They are also busy making sumalac. And just what is sumalac, you ask? In a nut shell, liquid bread. You take wheat seeds, germinate them for a few days, then brown them, add flour, oil, sugar, water and other stuff. Simmer for 12-24 hours, and you end up with a thick brown paste that tastes like, um, boiled wheat stalks. Supposedly very good for you. But then they say the same thing about vodka, so who really knows.

My site for the next two years will be in Gulistan, working with the Women's Business Association. There will be about 10 PCVs in town (a smallish city of about 70,000) who get together on regular occasions. Marshutkas and taxis only cost 100 cym in town. It's also just an hour or so into Tashkent (and of course, another hour to get just about anywhere else in town), which make it a doable day trip. Although Tashkent doesn'’t have much in the way of historical interest, there is an expat community and numerous events to meet others. There are also non-Uzbek cafes and real, almost US-like grocery stores. Not that my budget affords a lot of processed, packaged, and imported foods, but it'll be a nice treat once or twice a month.

In terms of language, my NGO does speak Russian, although they tend to work more in Uzbek. The city is also about 50-50 Russian-Uzbek (with Russian being the more useful business language). So I'll be starting Uzbek (which is supposed to be much easier then Russian) soon, as well as continuing with my Russian. One of my teachers lives in Gulliston, so I'll probably be taking tutoring lessons from her. I believe the going rate is about $1 per hour, and the PC will pay for like 12 hours a month.

Lastly, my NGO is one of the most established NGOs in Uzbekistan. And although itÂ’s a women'’s business NGO, that doesnÂ’t appear to be a major problem. There are other men working at women'’s NGOs as well - in large part because women/youth oriented NGOs have lower registration fees and are thus a lot more prevalent. I was told that itÂ’s very conservative, but that shouldn'’t effect me too much. And by conservative, I mean very traditional Uzbek. The women donÂ’t wear burkhas or veils, but they do wear full length, very colorful dresses, keep their hair up, and usually wear a scarf tied around it. Very few muslims here do the prayers, even on Friday. They also have no religious qualms about selling or drinking vodka. Women tend to marry by 20, start having children soon after, and by 30 have a mouth full of gold teeth (due to losing there teeth from severe anemia during pregnancy and getting fake gold teeth to replace them). At least I wasnÂ’t the Jewish guy who was assigned to teach at the Islamic Institute.

So just two weeks left before we take our final language proficiency exam and then (if we get at least high novice) swear in. We then move to our sites for two years of fun. I'll be living with another host family for at least 3 months before I can move out. Most people get their own place, and an apartment will set me back a whopping $30 a month. But I'll be making more money after I leave training to cover that cost.

Of the 64 who were in Philadelphia for staging, we still have all 64 sticking with it. Pretty impressive, and weÂ’ve been getting weekly kudos from the administration.



Chirchik's canal (from the same location as below)



The ubiquitous shashliek guy

Springtime for Karimov

We’re in a couple weeks lull here, with not much news to report. On Friday, we learn our site placement (where I’ll be for the next two years - I refuse to give my preference, given the last group’s propensity to end up exactly where they said they didn’t want to go) and then head out on PCV visits for 4 or 5 days (visa willing - don’t ask).

The weather has taken a decidedly springlike turn, with blue skies, and a breezy wind coming in from over the mountains. I’m definitely ready to get the bike going, but I’ll probably wait until I get to site in April. And in closing - some important things which I have learned, and will be glad to show you when I return (you provide the beer, wine, and walnuts, of course):

How to open a bottle of beer without a bottle opener
How to open a bottle of wine without a corkscrew
How to open walnuts without a nut cracker

I’ve yet to learn why they don’t have bottle openers, corkscrews, or nut crackers.

And one final addendum - my all time favorite PC memo excerpt (sorry for the grizzly subject matter, but it is quite humerous):

Volunteer Death: [Our definition in the memorandum covers investigative concerns. The Office of Safety and Security’s definition will differ for data gathering purposes.]

Shakrisabz

I’ve been remiss in updating my log - in large part as I was studying for a language exam. That done with, this will hopefully keep you entertained for at least a week or so.

The weather has been staying chilly beyond the traditional 40 days of winter. Which isn’t too cold - at least it’s not as cold nor windy as Chicago usually is in mid-February. But given the seemingly near absence of indoor heating, it’s hard to ever get warmed up adequately. There are other things about living in Uzbekistan that need getting used to. This has created a new list of rules:

1. If I can remember the last time I took a shower - I don’t need one. Once a week or so seems about the going rate here.
2. If I didn’t wear it yesterday - it’s clean. If I wore it yesterday, and it’s too cold to change, it’s clean. Once it turns half way warm, laundry will be high on my to do list. Until then, it’s grin and bear it.
3. If I don’t see any food particles on the utensils or plates - they’re clean. A quick rinse under cold water seems to be the preferred method of sanitization.
4. If there’s a toilet available, use it. A luxury that should not be overlooked. And make sure you carry toilet paper (that’s a hint for anyone who wants to send me stuff) as the stuff they use here (when they don’t use newspaper) is akin to crepe paper.

Oddly enough, I’ve been suffering with a killer cold for the last couple of days.

Money

Here’s a little background on the money situation here. There are about 1000 cym (which is the cyrillic, but actually comes out on a regular keyboard, so I’m leaving it like that. It’s pronounced like the sume in assume) to the US dollar. Minimum wage here is around 6500 cym. A month. Doctors make around 30000 cym a month - which explains why most are actually working as taxi or marshutka drivers, which are generally the highest paying legitimate jobs. On the good side, I’ve heard that MRIs and CAT Scans run about 25000 cym here. My next job will be to establish an overseas medical outsourcing company. One further item of interest about the cym is that the largest bill available is the 1000 cym note. Which are difficult to obtain. So my last batch of money - two weeks of spending money (39200 cym) and my Shakhrisabz allowance (40000 cym)- was given to me in 500s, 200s, and 100s, and was about an inch and a half thick. I’m actually doing quite well staying within my Peace Corps budget - going over last period only because I bought a Uzbek coat at the bazaar in Tashkent.


About $140 in som

Marshutkas (I don't know if that's the correct spelling, but it's close enough)

The transportation here is quite a thrill. In most of Uz the main transport around and between towns is the marshutka. These are vans that would probably not be allowed to be on the streets of America, much less to carry passengers. They vary in size, but usually hold 10 people uncomfortably, with 12-13 being the normal rush hour load. Their windshields are usually cracked, the brakes are squishy, the steering is squirrely, and the tires are slickery. Forget speedometers or seatbelts - except for the one tied to the side door so the driver can pull it closed. The only thing in them that seems to be working is a little digital timer that keeps track of how long they take to run their route. And apparently the faster they run the route, the more money they make. Fortunately, traffic isn’t too bad, and the roads are wide enough, such that the passes on curves and hills and in the face of oncoming vehicles are merely frightening instead of outright dangerous.

My “favorite” marshrootka rides have been with the weather has been less then ideal. For a while we were in a freeze / thaw cycle which left a thin sheet of ice on the streets in the morning. The ride to my NGO class involves a couple of hills, one of which we just couldn’t make it up one morning. As we were turning around, a car coming down the hill tried to break and began sliding towards us. Fortunately, our driver was adept enough to accelerate and move us out of it’s way. Unfortunately, he was accelerating us towards the bank of our local canal (guard rails? ha!). But alas, he was able to stop before plunging us into the drink. Needlessly, we had all risen out of our seats, ready to bail out and abandon ship. Good for me, in that Uzbekistan is heavily patrimonial, and I would have had first dibs. There have also been several days when the fog has been so thick it was nearly impossible to even see across the road. Not dissuaded by this, the marshutka drivers continue to ply the highways like they’re qualifying for the F1 Series. It’s days like that when I’d just as soon be crammed in between the seats facing backwards. All of this for the bargain price of 200 cym.

Shakhrisabz

As I mentioned previously, a group of us went to Shakhrisabz last weekend for our independent field trip. Other groups went off to Bukhara, Samarkand, and Navoi. So 16 of us rode the train from Tashkent to Samarkand (four hours) and then charted a van and taxi to take us to Shakhrisabz (3 hours). As it had snowed over night, prices were a bit higher then we expected - 5000 cym apiece for the ride. We arrived in Shakhrisabz Saturday afternoon and proceeded to check in to our hotel. The sign out front had three stars under the name. I joked that three stars in Uzbekistan must stand for running water, toilet, and heat. Checking in, we didn’t have the proper registration to get the “local” rate so we had to do a little negotiating. Fortunately for us, it’s the off season (and you probably didn’t realize there was an in season for traveling to Uzbekistan) and one of the woman with us had studied in Russia and did an excellent job in securing rooms for us at 8000 cym a night a person. The tourist rack rate is $25 for a single, $40 for a double. That said and done, we soon discovered that three stars in Uzbekistan only means running water and toilet. Further more, it seemed as though the entire town of Shakhrisabz had a heat outage that weekend. But we’re Peace Corps volunteers, we can handle it. And it helps to get 14 people together in one room for drinks (vodka is about 1200 cym a half liter, which is less then Coke) and cards, as we did Saturday night.

The town itself was nice and quiet (it, of course, being the off season) with a few highlights that should take about half of a day to see. The birthplace and hometown of Temur (spelled Timur in all the western literature, but Temur on all the Uzbek statues), it sports the remnants of his palace - two massive towers, a crypt - which has two unidentified bodies in it, and part of a mausoleum with Temur’s son entombed in it. There’s also a picturesque mosque and an impressive bazaar in town as well. All are within about 1 km of each other.

Returning to Tashkent, we were without the luxury of the train, so I was stuck in the back seat of a Nexia taxi with two other people for six hours. I can’t complain too much - I saw other taxis with four people in the back seat. With no snow excuse to gouge us, we only paid 7500 cym a person for this ride.

So that’s my update for now. Please feel free to send me emails with news and anecdotes. I may not be able to reply, but I’ll definitely read it when I get the chance - the internet here can be quite screwy at times, but I'm now able to login from home - and for only 400 cym an hour.




The mosque in Shakrisabz


Tile work on the inside of the dome


The remains of Temur's palace


The local butchers

Update from Chirchik

Just a quick update, as this internet connection is supper slow and buggy. The town I'm in - Chirchik (spelled different way, depending on Uzbek/Russian heritage and latinization) - is a "modern" Soviet city. Imagine housing project like aparment buildings - water pipes running above ground, crumbling staircases, cinder block construction. Similar style housing, and 50's looking Soviet Volgas and a mish mash of buses and vans plying the roads. Tashkent is about the same - just a lot bigger, with larger bazaars, more traffic, and wider streets.

The US Ambassador's place in Tashkent is quite nice. I'm definitely going into the foreign service after this gig is up.

Off to Shakrisabz (sorry if the spelling is wrong, see above) this weekend. Will try to get picture uploaded. It dates back a couple thousand years, with ruins of a palace built by Timur.

Visas are pending for a lot of people - almost everyone has a 30 day stay right now.



The canal in Chirchik

Choi and Non

Choi is tea, and non is bread. The two things we have at every meal. I repeat - every meal. But it's good, so far. Just got to avoid the non with the fuzzy green spots. Lots of soups, and the occasional rice dish or kabob.

Classes are intense - 3 hours of Russian every day, and 3 hours of technical training in NGO governance and management. At least I like the group of 4 others that I spend all day with.

Tomorrow we head to Tashkent to watch the Super Bowl at the Ambassador's - game starts at 4am. Tuesday we head back to Tashkent to start our NGO practicum. And next weekend we take a little field trip to the west. It'll be good to get out of Chirchil, which is just a little Russian chemical plant town. Not too much of interest here - not that I have time for anything anyways.

Still hoping to get our visas renewed soon. Otherwise, I'm out of here at the end of the month and COS with the shortest PC stint in history.

More later - the sky darkens and air chillens. Gotta catch my marshutka before the streets refreeze - at least I won't have to go up any hills, like this morning (that's a teaser for my next entry).



The marshutka stand

Arrived in Uzbekistan

We finally arrived in Uzbekistan. After a long day and a half of flying, we were thrown right into classes. By 5pm it had been over 48 hours and 7 meals since my last real sleep. I passed out and missed dinner, but got a nice 9 hours of sleep.

Friday was getting some shots and our allowance - 40,400 som. Almost $40. [dramatic pause] That's for the next two weeks. Although today is the first I've spent any money. 200 som for the marshutka into town, and 1000 som for an hour for internet.

Friday, we also met our host families. Mine live in Chirchik, about 45 minutes northwest of Tashkent. I was a tad nervous about what to expect, but fortunately my family is very nice and they even speak English. I live with a mother and father with three teenage sons. One of the sons has a wife and month old baby that also live there. The grandmother lives down the street and is also hosting a volunteer.

Yesterday (Saturday) we went guesting - visiting - to my host brother's in-laws. A massive meal was involved. We ate for almost four hours. By the time we got back home, the electricity was out and we had to use candles and my mag light to get around.

I'm cutting off here, as all the other PCTs are going over to the cafe to eat. We all ended up meeting here by chance to check out email.

But now I know where to go.