Where Is Ron?
Central Asia, October 2009
Ron and Ellen and Amir Timur (Tamerlane), Tashkent, Uzbekistan, September 2009
A village near Abay, Kazakhstan, October 2009
To see photos of the wedding in Kazakhstan, click on the thumbnail at the left.
29 October 2009
Afton, Virginia, USADear family and friends,
Ron is now in Khojand, Tajikistan. If you are a map-lover like me, and can't find Khojand in your atlas, I found it (spelled/transliterated slightly differently) on a map of Tajikistan from the online map collection at the University of Texas; Khojand is up in the northern arm of the country. He says it is colder, and he is now wearing a t-shirt, long-sleeved shirt, and his jacket during the day.
The first report I received from Ron in Khojand tells how he got there from Tashkent, the second was about the Kazakh wedding he went to between Shymkent and the Kazakh/Uzbek border, and I'm waiting for the promised third report on the border crossing and his (abortive) attempt to get to Tajikistan the same day. Since the report on the wedding is quite long, I'm sending that out by itself while I wait for the border crossing report.
Here at home I'm working on the photos, and have picked out (from the approximately 1800 I brought back with me) the ones I want to use on the Web page. Next steps: reducing the large files to a smaller size more appropriate for Web downloads and setting up the different pages. I'll be working on that over the next several days. I had dinner last night with our daughter and family, and after dinner pumpkins from our garden were carved for Halloween. Simon will be Darth Vader, and Leo will be Spaceman Spiff (from the Calvin and Hobbes cartoons).
Love to all,
Ellen
Amazing wedding day and night in a small Kazakh village
28 October 2009
Khojand, TajikistanHello, my dear,
My goal was to figure out how to travel from Shymkent, Kazakhstan, to Dushanbe, Tajikistan, cheaply and to write about it in a way that other travelers could find the information when searching.
Things - of course - did not go as planned, which all travelers learn is normal and to be expected. And while I have still not reached Dushanbe, I have had an extraordinary experience and hope I can find the words to express the events, people and feelings so you can share the experience with me.
When we originally arrived in Shymkent together the taxi driver dropped us off at the Tourist Hotel which turned out to be inexpensive and good accommodations, and I will start my story there.
The hotel is on the east side of Repubiki, two or three long blocks south of the Fantasy World park. There is no sign but at the intersection there are lots of buses stopping. The Lonely Planet map indicates the Kolos Bus Station for Tashkent is 1K south off the edge of their map. Since the closest border crossing between Tashkent and Shymkent is closed to all except Uzbeks and Kazakhs, I didn't go to this bus station for info. Instead I took bus #5 to the Voxal (train station) and asked there for buses, shared taxis or mini-vans to Sariagash, a town we passed through in the taxi coming from the border. I also knew the next town would be Abay and then Yalama at the border and I was betting if I could get a mini-van to Sariagash, then I could catch another to Abay and then another to Yalama.
Bus #5 goes north from the Tourist Hotel and the road continues to bend to the east and eventually the end of the bus route goes around a small circle in front of the train station. A couple of helpful guys in front of the station where some mini-vans were parked pointed to some word on the side of mini-van #46 and kept saying Sariagash, and the driver confirmed that it went to Sariagash and that vans ran from early morning to afternoon.
So early on Sat morning I took Bus #5, which is a large bus and has a space near the back door that could hold large backpacks or luggage and I don't think it would be a problem in the early morning. Maybe all day. The mini-van #46 put my pack in the back storage area and I got a seat in the middle of the van, pulled out my book and waited for the van to fill up before leaving. However, shortly, about half empty, it pulled out. A few minutes later it stopped and there was a conversation that I could not understand, but it was clearly indicated to me that I was to follow the young lady who had been in the front seat and said to me in English: We go Sariagash. We walked a short way and turned, walking through a large gate into a large lot with a wide range of buses and vans. Perhaps this is the Kolos Bus Stop but I don't know for sure. The young lady spoke to some people and we got into another mini-van and she sat down beside me.
Her name was Diana, she was an 18 year old university sophomore student studying English and computer information in Shymkent and could speak English well enough for us to communicate. When I asked about the towns on the route I wanted to take, she explained that she was going to Abay, where her family lived, for a wedding of her brother on Sunday and her wedding clothes were in the small bag on her lap; she was to be part of the wedding. The "brother" turned out to be "cousin". We talked about where I was from and where I had been, what she was studying, her family, and other small talk and then she asked if I had been to a Kazakh wedding and I told her about some of the wedding parties I had seen, and she asked if I would like to go to the wedding. Often I try to create adventures but in this instance I was not encouraging the invitation other than saying it would be interesting. She then said, "Good, we go to wedding" as if that was the end of the discussion. I asked if there was a hotel in Abay and she didn't know but said it would not be a problem.
Diana was very bright and interesting. I learned a lot about her history, family, romances, and interests. Her dream is to go to the United States. She said if her English was good enough she was confident she could receive a grant to participate in a work-travel program and when I asked about her grades she said she had all A's. Her main concern was that her parents would not let her go to the United States even if she got the grant.
We got out of the van at Abay. To this point I had spent very little money. Bus #5 was 35T, Van #46 was 50T, and the mini-van to Abay was 350T. At 151T per US$ this is less than $4.
In Abay we crossed the street and got into a shared taxi and waited. When I realized we were waiting for a fourth person, I offered to pay the extra small amount and we proceeded to her village a few K from Abay. I learned later from the history teacher that the population of Abay is about 120,000 and the population of Corshcarsatar (my spelling) was 4,500. He also said he was the mayor, so I guess he would know the correct population figures.
Arriving in her village, we got out of the taxi just past the mosque and turned right, crossed a small concrete slab over a culvert and entered the gate to her home on the right. She had told me her father didn't have a job, her mother was an English teacher and she had some pets, but I was not prepared for her yard which was full of chickens, horses, sheep and dogs. (No cats. She said she didn't like cats.). We entered one of the buildings, went through a room and into another where I left my pack and then she gave me a tour of her yard; what I would call barnyard, including all the various animals. Perhaps it would be accurate to say her father was a farmer and raised animals for sale rather than Diana's description of having no job.
We returned to the room where I left my backpack and she served me tea and bread, and something like egg crepes. The room was carpeted had a low table with some cushions around it on the floor. There was a TV high in the corner usually playing music videos. As I was drinking the tea her mother's sister joined us and I learned that she was a doctor who didn't practice anymore but taught. I was also introduced to her younger sister (16) and smaller brother.
After tea, Diana excused herself to get dressed and then returned to take me to the wedding. I had changed into my white T and white shirt. I asked to use the toilet and she took me outside into the yard and pointed to the outhouse which was a well constructed building with a good wooden floor and a small slot with a couple of small raised boards for foot rests. There was a small window looking out into the courtyard and I took a picture of the beautiful hay pile with the bottom layers having being eaten away by the many animals.
We walked to another house (a couple of blocks), which I am guessing is the home of the groom or his family (I took a picture of all the shoes outside the front door), and I was taken into a large room with a very large low table on the floor and a couple of couches along the wall. There were several men sitting around the table and I was invited to join them. Diana sat beside me and introduced the various men to me, explaining their relationship to the family (most were uncles and over time I met a couple of their wives as they came and went). A large plate of food was served to me and I was invited to eat, eat, eat. And of course they were many toasts of vodka which, when I declined to drink, they took in good spirit and provided me a glass of mineral water to participate in the toasts.
One of the men I was sitting by had a wonderful face full of wrinkles that gave him charm. I asked him how many children he had and he said 7. I asked how old the oldest was, then how old the youngest was - there was only a spread of 7 years. So I replied that he had one every year for 7 straight years and he agreed and there was a lot of laughter at the table. From my sampling this may have been an average number of kids. Diana's parents also came from large families. I met her grandmother but her grandfather was deceased.
Diana introduced me to her history teacher, Saduahas (my spelling) (49 years old) who could speak a little English. We seemed to hit it off well. Diana explained that she was going to go ride in the limo for that part of the ceremony and Saduahas would bring me to the Café in the evening. He took me in his car to see the river and the outskirts of the village and then we returned to the house to eat some more and then we left again and got to the road in front of the house where several cars were parked. There was a lot of conversation between some of the men which I could not understand. First I was to get into his car, then no, I was to get in a different car, then no I was to get into another car. We then drove to another home and when they opened the gate I observed another large courtyard full of men and horses. There was not a lot of English spoken but I understood that one of the horses was a champion, I think in the game where they pick up the goat and try to dr op it into the well, the game we saw in Cholpon-Ata on Lake Issyk-Kol.
They got me to mount one of the large horses. I couldn't get my foot into the stirrup so they moved the horse next to something for me to stand on. The horse knew that I didn't know anything about getting on and off horses and was not at all open to having me do so. Getting off was harder than getting on. Every time I would start to swing my right leg over his back he would start going in circles (being held by the rope from the next by the man on the ground). Finally I just had to jump off. Later they wanted me to ride the white champion. They were putting the saddles on all the horses and we all left at the same time (me by foot and car).
Then we went to Saduahas' home and I met his family. His daughter and son were very interested in meeting me. I was also given a tour of his property, shown his fruit trees (apple and something else without a name) and introduced to his horse which he said was also a champion. We spent a long time going through his world history book used for his classes. I was very impressed with the textbook and the comprehensive world view it taught. Of course I couldn't read it or the names under the pictures but he would cover the names and wait for me to identify the people in the pictures. I got a lot and missed a lot. So I am not sure how I did on his history quiz.
Before going to the Café he took me back to Diana's home where I got my coat because the evening had turned cool. The Café was in Abay and Diana had told me that there would be 400 people (small wedding) and that I would be expected to make a toast in English, as each of the guests would be making a toast. I tried to imagine the length of a dinner party with 400 toasts.
We were early and I took some pictures of the hall's setup before people arrived. Most people gathered at the entrance to greet the big long white limo bringing the wedding party, including Diana.
Throughout the day I was encouraged to take pictures (I first asked, and then people asked me), often groups would pose and ask me to take their picture. Diana would bring people and ask me to take their picture and I was beginning to feel like the official wedding photographer. I was first concerned about taking pictures in a Muslim community knowing they don't allow images in their mosques. When I asked Diana later she explained that people couldn't afford cameras, there was no religious objection and they really thought my camera took excellent pictures. (I continued to show people the pictures after taking them). I did see a few mobile phones taking pictures and there was an official photographer with a video camera at the Café dinner. Diana offered to take a picture of some activities I couldn't take from our table and she moved into the center aisle to do so. As the evening wore on she took the camera more and more often so many of the pictures were staged and taken by her. She wanted to make a copy of the pictures and I explained she would need a card reader. She took the card, then returned and took the camera and later came back and said they found a way to copy the pictures.
I was invited to sit at her family's table, but both her father and mother were very involved in the activities and I saw little of them, and never had a chance to talk with her mother. On several short occasions I did share some times with her father, whom I liked very much. Some of her mother and father's brothers and sisters I had met during the day were at our table so I felt very comfortable and enjoyed the evening. The food was excellent: salads, chicken, horse, sweets, melon, watermelon, pickled salad with beef, mineral water, tea, and of course vodka for the endless toasts. I agreed to a small glass of vodka and would take small sips, knowing it would be refilled endlessly. The man next to me would constantly encourage me to take a real drink but accepted my sips with good humor.
The wedding party was most festive. There was a large center aisle with the bride and groom sitting at one end and the dancers arriving from the other end which had some steps that went up to a higher level leading to some doors off the side. There were several groups of dancers over the evenings in different costumes: belly dancers, dancers that reminded me of Thailand, Turkish, etc in elaborate costumes. I think some of the same young ladies were in each of the dances having changed costumes. Reminded me of Mardi Gras in Rio. There were also singers and musicians. In between the dancers and singers people, including me, danced in the center aisle. I got a lot of thumbs up and of course everyone wanted to watch the American dance.
Not all the 400 toasts were given one at a time. There would be groups that would stand together at the end of the aisle and some would make a toast and others would make a toast for several and then the group would walk down the aisle and greet the bride and groom. Near the end I was called and joined a group. After making my toast, Diana spoke, I suspect making her own toast but also translating mine. Then the group walked down the aisle and I presented a very shiny new penny to the bride. I am not sure she understood the toast or the penny, but a while later as the party was breaking up I saw her still carrying the penny in her hand and showing it to people, and later asking Diana about it.
We went back to the village in a very large bus with many of the people including Diana's family and then walked to Diana's home in the dark around midnight, with me using the small light on my chain and Diana taking my arm to be sure I didn't fall. People would come up and want to shake my hand and be introduced to me.
I was taken into a different building, past a room with nothing but carpeting and left standing in a second beautiful room with no furniture and a pile of quilts and mats. Diana had gone to ask her mother where I was sleep and came back and lead me to a third room where there were some cabinets across one wall and a low table in the middle of the room. A bed of mats, sheets and quilts was made for me on the floor and I slept very well. In an adjoining room Diana slept with her sister. Before going to sleep I explained to Diana that I needed to use the toilet. I was quite disoriented about what building I was in. She showed me to the front, provided me with a pair of slip on shoes and took my arm to lead me across the dark yard to the toilet. She asked me if I was not afraid of the dark.
Diana had told me that she was going to return to Shymkent at 8:30 Monday morning. At 8:00 I woke up and got dressed just before Diana came in to tell me that she was not returning but was going to spend the morning with her sister and there was no hurry. She invited me to breakfast in the building and room where I first had tea and she served me tea and bread again. Her father also joined us for breakfast. Her mother had already gone to school. Later she brought two large bowls of steaming hot milk, which I understood to be cow milk. I drank some but was rather reluctant to drink much on a travel day not knowing when I would find a toilet that day.
Her father offered to drive me to the border but I explained that this was not necessary and that there must be a way to go in a shared taxi. So Diana and her father drove me to Abay and helped me find a shared taxi with three other people to the border at Yalama which cost 400T. This way I could continue my research on a cheap way from Shymkent to Tajikistan.
I don't think I can find the words to really express the depth of my emotions and feelings from this experience. This was a small Muslim farming community living the way people may have lived ages ago, outside of the moneyed and materialistic economy. Many of the people I met were well educated; veterinarians, doctors, teachers. They now have cars, old but functional, mobile telephones, TV's and Diana's father brought her a laptop computer for the university, but there were jokes about the quality of the meat (horse) they were eating at the afternoon dinner because of the current economy and there didn't appear to be jobs available. Diana's mother was the working member of the family and of course there was income from selling the animals raised.
Their large extended families made a wonderful community, some now living in other cities in Kazakhstan, but the village of Corshcarsatar seemed to me to be like the community I was searching for back in the 70s when I helped start Shannon Farm Community.
While there wasn't much language spoken between me and many of the people I met, over the day I would see many of the same people again and feel like old friends. I loved their facial expressions, their grace, their way of relating to each other and the way they made me feel at home.
Perhaps Diana was taking care of me as she would a grandfather. She was most attentive to my needs, always being sure I understood what was happening, letting me know when she would return when she had something to do, taking my arm to be sure I didn't fall, and after each visit to the outhouse, pouring water over my hands to wash, including hot water in the morning to wash my face. Beautiful, attentive, charming, and intelligent.
While the Muslim faith here may be a milder version than in other parts of the Muslim world, I will never be able to watch and read the news about Muslims in other parts of the world with the same set of eyes and ears I had before.
Next I will write about the border crossing and my continuing to search for the cheap way to Tajikistan.
Love and miss you,
Ron
Forward to Tajikistan
cfw.com
Questions? Send email to Ellen, ebouton 
operamail.com
While we're traveling, reach us at bikepacker
Last updated: 14 December 2009
