Training

A random series of events, 1 hour of sleep, exhaustive and extensive questioning while training my team... I am so drained right now.

Long story short, last night I hit the gym for the first time in ages at the Dedeman Hotel across the street. It's a pretty expensive Turkish hotel but given the treadmills don't work at my hotel, I decided to check it out. They charge $20 for one day, but the pool was beautiful despite being small. It had the most perfect lawn chairs and would be a great place to work out, then read by the pool or go for a nighttime swim. Afterwards, I checked out a nightclub here, the Diplomat Club. Given it was a Mon night most of the clubs were closed. A friend I made at the hotel happens to speak fluent Russian and he somehow found a cab driver who knew the "in" scene here. Surprisingly, it was really good. The music was awesome, they had a really good dance show, along with my favorite local wine, "Mona Liza".

Today I began the training session for the kids here. I know I should stop calling them that. But for some reason I feel so protective of them. In any case, after poring through tons of research I decided to pick Russian Pharmaceuticals to start with. The Soviet form of education has been that what the teacher says, goes. There's no questioning, etc. One of the things I'm trying to do while here is train them to formulate their own opinion and encourage them in discourse. As they all speak good English, are intelligent, and extremely kind, I expect some will work in other countries in the future. Being a research analyst is also tough to explain. There is no one right approach, one right way, or one end conclusion. But some of their thinking is still, but "what's the answer?" It's been both exciting and challenging to observe this and try to break this mold.

But with very little sleep, an emotionally draining night, and the really hot weather, I am running on low. They are so interested when I train them. But they like to debate, argue, and one member in particular loves to question everything slightly as a joke, but also because he enjoys speaking his opinion. It's been challenging keeping them in order, staying patient, and maintaining a fine but strict border between discourage and challenging just for the sake of challenging.

And I realized today I find debating and arguing absolutely exhausting. If someone has a different opinion and I disagree, it takes more energy out of me to try to convince them of why I might be right than to just respect that they have a different opinion and move on. Also having never taught, I was surprised by the level of focus and tension it takes out of me. It's been interesting trying to figure out the best ways to teach them while thinking of their long term interests in mind. I've also been surprised by the level of maturity and diplomacy needed when you are training a team. It's been taking me to new levels as I try to take them there as well. But my god it's been a long day.

I decided to skip belly dancing class tonight and sign up for a massage and get some rest. It's moments like now that I wish the technique in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind were really real. I could use it right now.

Weekend

Friday night I went to the Ilkhom Theater and watched a play, "Feelings". It was in Russian so I couldn't understand most of it, but there was an actor who had some lines in English and I quickly realized he was from the States. Excited, I waited for the play to end and introduced myself. Turns out his name is Tree (sp?) and he's from California! He's been living in Tashkent for the last year and a half. It felt so nice to speak English fluidly with someone and to understand each other's experiences living here.

Afterwards, I went to Chun Gi Wa as Svetlana had called and said to stop by. I hung out with her and the owner and ran into Rosa or Larisa at the restaurant! I can't remember which one it was to be honest. But her guest happened to be staying at my hotel so they dropped me off afterwards.

Saturday I was too lazy to venture out, but wanted to at least do something. I went to the pool and there was the cutest kid there. I asked the mom how old he was. We began to talk. It turns out the family's been living here for 3-4 years. She said she could understand Russian now but couldn't really speak. But she knew one phrase perfectly, "Ya ne znayo", which is "I don't know" and probably one of the most important phrases to learn.

Afterwards I went to my room but quickly came back down. There was music and something seemed to be going on. It turns out LG was having a raffle for refrigerators, dishwashers, etc. but in order to get the prizes they made people do the most hilarious things. They had dance offs, grandfather's swim fully clothed, people pick random numbers and the one with the highest total winning. But they also had a short but beautiful dance show with real arabic dancing which was my personal highlight.

That morning while trying to see if the internet in the lobby would work (it's been down at the hotel), I happened to be sitting at the same table as a guy watching World Cup. Long story short, I had no plans Saturday night and was waiting to hear from my co-worker (yes, the one I have a crush on). Well, no word from him, but I got invited to dinner from the guy watching World Cup and his boss, as well as Svetlana and ironically her boss. I went to meet Svetlana and her boss and we first stopped by this beautiful outdoor place. Koreans love grilled pork, and Uzbekistan being a Muslim country, there isn't a lot of pork around. But apparently he's been coming here so often that he brings his own lettuce, spices, and kimchi, to eat his own mini "sam-gyup-sal". Well, the place ran out of pork b/c we got there too late, but we ended up going to another place around the corner which turned out to be a ko-ryo-in restaurant. The pork was delicious. I personally love pork, and for some reason I've been craving Korean food til no end here. It was one of the best meals I've had in so long. We talked about so many things, but it was the first time I realized while to me Uzbekistan holds so many secrets and curiosities, for others it's a place without choices.

Having a bit too much of a really good wine I discovered that night, a chilled "Mona Lisa", I crashed and passed out in bed.

Sunday I decided to go see one of the museums. The hotel staff and the driver hadn't even heard of the museum. After stopping along the way a few times, we finally found it and I went in. There were 4 floors of beautiful artwork. They even had 2 Kandinsky's, ceramics, doors with beautiful ornate wood carvings where you could see the similarities amongst the countries on the silk road. But what stood out in my mind the most was this one section. There was a ko-ryo-in painter who had painted a set of 4 paintings reflective of each season. And in each one he painted a card or "hwa-too". But this one painting titled "Freedom" took my breath away. There were Korean women dancing in hanboks with Russian militia standing around. There were banners in the background, one written in Russian, one written in Korean... I was so moved. I could feel the longing for this painter's home country mixed with having adjusted to this foreign country. It made me so sad.

I returned to the hotel and went on my weekly ritual to the Oloy Bazaar to buy fruit. They sell fruit here by kilo's or the weight, but once again I explained in my broken Russian that I would like 2 of these, 3 of those, etc. I also bought some iced teas and bottled water at the "Supermarket". To give you an idea of how much the foreigner markup is, a huge 2 liter bottle of water at the Supermarket cost me 600 soums. At the hotel a 1 liter bottle costs me 4,000 soums. I vowed never to buy water at the hotel again after I realized this. I also felt more at home after having gone real grocery shopping. The funny guy from the morning before who was watching the World Cup called. Funny thing is when we met he asked how long I was here. I said another month but that I don't want to return. He said omg, you have another month? I've been bored to death being here only 2 weeks. I went to dinner with him and his boss and we got the pork belly again, yay! But it was a lot of fun talking to them and they played ping pong outside. It turns out the boss is here on a project and the younger guy is basically here as his translator. But the boss doesn't know how to do anything, so the translator can't leave his room in case the boss calls. And the boss will only call his room, not his cell phone.

The boss and I happen to both love walking so we walked back. The nights in Tashkent are gorgeous and there are a lot of really pretty parks you can walk through. The other guy said he hates walking most in life and cabbed it back. After I returned to the hotel, the young guy called and asked if I wanted to check out a bar and watch soccer. A side note, I don't know their names b/c 1) I'm really bad with Korean names and 2) it doesn't really matter. You kind of figure out who's oldest in Korea and address them by a title rather than name if you're the younger one. Anyhow, we went to this really nice bar called "Cmi bar". It looked like a place they would have in NY or Korea. Black, sleek, with a huge tv, I discovered a good beer Chim Gan from Kazakh. Long story short we were there til 235am b/c freaking Italy and Spain went into overtime. I lost 10 bucks on our bet, but had a lot of fun talking. I'm sad to know they're leaving tomorrow (Tuesday). I wish I had met them sooner.

After about a zillion wake up calls and alarms, I somehow managed to get up this morning. Anyhow, I'm back at work today. We'll see what this week holds.

Yay!

So. Today's a momentous day. I got my first belly dancing skirt, eeeee!!!

I've been wanting to get this since I took my first class a year ago. But I never found one I really liked.

I thought it would be the perfect souvenier from here.

After lunch, Malika took me to an outdoor bazaar I hadn't been to. It was very similar to the outdoor Korean markets. They sold blue jeans, shirts, dresses, bras, you name it. We went into a clothing shop where the owner was Korean. I gave her a warm hello and Malika translated. It's still so fascinating to me to see Koreans here.

We went to several places where they sold them. They didn't have many selections and to be honest, I didn't love any of them THAT much. But I settled on a light blue one with gold coins. I had been hoping to find a purple-ish tie-dyed type one, but I'm still happy nonetheless.

I also bought a purse and the owner spoke some English. Turns out she is half Uzbek and half Russian, a combination I haven't seen here and which seems to be unusual from my limited time here.

I loved the bag right when I saw it but to be honest, I don't know if I will still love it when I go to NY. This happens to me a lot when I shop abroad. What I find pretty or begin to like gets influenced by the culture I'm in. Then when I go back to the US I look at it and am like, how could I buy this?

Last night after oversleeping and overworrying the office b/c I was 2.5 hours late without a trace (I had taken a sleeping pill the night before from getting hit with insomnia again and writing in my blog for too long), I felt terrible. I also got out of work early and felt a little down as I had no real idea of what to do or where to go. So as I usually do in NY when I'm in this type of mood, I go for a manicure.

I went to my hotel salon and got denied. I went across the street to Dedeman's hotel spa, the first place I had went, and again denied. Desperate to finally get the over-due pedicure that made me both look and feel gross, I asked the young debushka at the hotel lobby if there was another place I could go. She told me of one around the corner.

Bingo. This is now my place.

In the hotel they generally charge like 12 euros or so for a pedicure, so $24. In the US this would be fine, but in Tashkent? This is a total rip off.

In my broken Russian and a very kind customer who spoke some English, this new place told me they charge 5,000 soums for a manicure and 7,000 for a pedi. This is more reasonable, though my co-worker said it's a bit higher than the average and is considered a nice salon.

I had an hour to kill, but fortunately, yesterday my language cd's came. I didn't mind waiting at all. I listened to my language cd for an hour while I waited and it felt so good to nourish my mind and start over from the basics again.

The ladies were wonderful. They were so funny. There is something so beautiful about women, the way we can connect and share common experiences and emotions just by virtue of being women. We talked about husbands, boyfriends. Then a woman asked me if I liked someone, and whether I've X'd something. I said what is that? And she puckered up her lips and made smooching noises! I screamed and laughed hysterically.

I was also so happy that they had my exact colors there. The last 8 years I have rarely deviated from my mani/pedi routine. My first manicure here in Tashkent, the spa at the Dedeman didn't have many choices so I had to get this ugly dark pinkish color. This place had both colors I usually use.

The funny thing is when I picked my usual pink for my hands, she said tsbet ne haroshi, ocheen plahoi. Basically, that color is so ugly, why are you picking that. I laughed and asked which color is considered pretty in Tashkent? She showed me bright reds, gold glitter you poured over your nails afterwards. I told her I love my ugly color.

I had so much fun with them and one of the best pedicures I've had in a long time.

I've had a thing about nails for a really long time. I don't feel settled until I find the right nail salon. In NY I had my place I went to for 8 years. In Tashkent, this one's it.

Wedding

I learned something yesterday.

So. The woman Rosa called me on Sunday and invited me to a wedding the following day. She said 2 Koreans would be getting married. I was overjoyed and ecstatic; this is the ultimate way to learn about Uzbek culture, but specifically the "go-ryo-in" culture. I felt as though God had sent me such a fortuitous blessing when I happened to run into her for that split moment outside my hotel. 5 minutes later and we would've missed each other. She told me to call her again when someone who speaks Russian would be able to take down the directions and instructions.

The next morning I asked my co-workers what would be an appropriate gift. What struck me as odd was that the wedding would be at 4pm on a Monday. They said if you're close you give money, but otherwise a small gift would be fine. Thing is, I felt like they were family given they were Korean. I wanted to give what I could.

I had my co-worker Bekzhod call her to get the instructions and to also get a sense of what the place would be like, how large the wedding was, etc. As overjoyed as I was, I also wanted to gauge the situation a bit and get an understanding of what the wedding would be like. Bekzhod, our office "opposition leader" who almost always disagrees with mass consensus, insisted a gift would be more appropriate. He also said I shouldn't go alone, and that I don't know what I'm getting myself into. That honestly her Russian was terrible, she sounded like she worked at the Oloy bazaar, and that he had never heard of that crappy place. I said that it would be fine, it was more like family, and part of being in a different country was to see more. I just wouldn't drink at the wedding. He said I've forgotten where I am, that I'm in a different country. I said if anything, I think it means I feel at home now and a bit more courageous/confident to experience new things. He said what if they beat you? I said I'll scream. He told me why don't you go to Afghanistan since you like risky situations. I said I would love to see more of the middle east if I get the chance later in a safe situation. I said if you're so worried why don't you come (Rosa had invited him earlier). He said he had plans, but that it was their responsibility to not let me go. Like hell I wasn't going to go.

Nevertheless, I was so nervous by his words I couldn't eat at lunch. I stayed back to make sure I'd finish my work to make it to the 4pm wedding.

Oddly, after they returned from lunch, Bekzhod said hey Jenny, do you want twix? To give you a sense of what this guy is like, last week while we were in the lunch line he said to me do you want coke to drink? I said yeah! He said can you get two? Another day I had bought twix for a mini dessert. He said, do you want all of that?

I had never seen him buy twix before but later realized it was b/c he noticed I didn't eat lunch and it was something he knew I liked.

I asked my co-workers for instructions to get to the floral shop (I decided on flowers) and I was so nervous I couldn't think straight. They are so sweet. They picked up on this, and Sherzhod said he would drive me and then drop me off at the hotel. I insisted I could find it on my own but he said no it's okay. Before I left I said to Bekzhod I should probably give you Rosa's number in case. He said why, you always say I'm so unreliable. I joked with all of them that if I didn't show up the next day, it meant I was either dead or I had too fun of a time.

Thank goodness Sherzhod came with me to the flower shop. The first place we went to, the Tashkent hotel, had a selection of 4 different types of roses and a very cold, young Russian girl who told me that each rose was 8,000 soum, or roughly $8. I didn't like the tone of her voice and I knew enough to know the price was ridiculous.

We went to another place down the street and fortunately, they had pre-arranged bouquets. I was so nervous I couldn't deal with picking which flowers to get, what would match, etc. I bought a little felt heart that said "I love you" and got a card.

Rosa had her driver pick me up and take me to the restaurant which was near the Russian embassy. She told me that there were actually 2 couples getting married. The men were from Korea and the women were Uzbek.

I realized she was part of a wedding business. There was a NY Times article a while ago about Korean men going to Vietnam in search of brides. There was also a movie, "Wedding Campaign", or "Kyu-rhon-ae jung-gi" about 2 Korean men who go to Uzbekistan in search of brides. I asked Rosa why these men came to Uzbekistan to find brides. She said they were bus drivers and in Korea the women wanted a much higher standard of life, and that Uzbek women could pick up Korean within 3 months or so. Apparently the men would come, meet about 20 women, narrow their choices down to 5, and then the women had the final say as to whether they would get married. They would spend between a week to 10 days getting to know them with the help of a translater.

One of the grooms looked like the sweetest, most sincere person. She told me that b/c he was kind of big and ugly (her words), he had a complex about his looks and women. He was 42 and had never been married. The other guy was much smaller, but to me he looked kind of tempermental. He reminded me of a gangster. Apparently he had been married once before and had two kids.

Rosa's partner, a man from Korea, also reminded me of a gangster. He had these sunglass type of glasses, and there was a toughness and scrappiness that made me uneasy.

On top of this, at my table one of the men kept trying to set me up with his son. I felt uneasy with all of this. What if they kidnapped me as a potential bride to set up with one of their grooms in their business? And I also realized I didn't know what kind of people I was dealing with. Sure Rosa was super nice to me so far, but that could easily turn in the wrong situation.

I looked back on the day, my nervousness throughout the day, and thought back to Bekzhod. I knew he had been so upset that I had gone. But I also was touched that he cared and felt such a sense of protectiveness. For some reason I felt he would be the right person to call. Not only would he take it seriously as his duty as a man, but I felt in a way I would also be giving back his pride. Normally out of pride I would've insisted on not giving in first. But this time, for some reason I felt differently. I felt he would feel like a man if after all his warnings I called and asked for his help. Okay, I know some of my friends want to kick me for the damsel in distress scenario. But bear with it.

I called and asked what he was doing after his meeting. He said he was thinking of working out, but asked why, whether I wanted him to come get me. I said yeah, maybe, but that if he had plans it was okay. He said he'd call me in a few hours. After he called, he said he would be 25 minutes. I said um, 45 minutes. He said but I want to drink if I go all the way there, you said there was good wine.

The center table for the 2 couples had 2 cakes and shared a common vase for flowers. The groom who looked really sweet, his wife looked equally sweet. Despite not speaking the same language and only having met a couple weeks before, you could just tell they were already so in sync. When she was hot he would fan her. They both looked so happy on their wedding day as though they had known each other forever. When they walked around the room they held hands. Her family kept going up to her, kissing her, wishing her well. I actually sat at their table and they were so kind. The woman next to me kept putting food on my plate. And when they danced her arm was close to his. The body language said I trust you and I will cherish you.

The other couple however, the bride's family was an hour and a half late (both brides' families were from the country side outside of Tashkent), she looked kind of sad, kept checking her cell phone, didn't really engage a lot with her husband when at the table, and when they danced there was a distance. They both looked a bit more reserved personality wise, but I couldn't help but feel a little uneasy about this couple, and could see some omens I didn't like. As a woman I felt so despondent. I realized how hard it is if you're a woman with very little opportunity and how sometimes risking your life into the unknown was your only chance at a better future. And being as superstitious as I am, there was things I saw that I wished I didn't see.

In any case, her family finally arrived and the festivities began. This is where I finally saw real Uzbek dancing. It is so beautiful. It is sort of a mix of Arabic and traditional Indian dancing. The way the older women could feel the music, move their hands in the most gorgeous ways. You could feel the wisdom, history, and the memories of their own wedding day as they danced. I was completely mesmerized.

Because the brides were Muslim they didn't have an oficiant at the ceremony. Instead, they had two boxes of rings for them, they did their cake cutting ceremony, and I took about a zillion pictures of everything.

I ran into the grooms on my way to the bathroom and during their smoke break. I congratulated them in Korean and wished them well. And I quietly told the nice looking groom, your wife looks like a genuinely kind woman. You guys look like such a nice match and I genuinely wish you well. Rosa had told me earlier in the night that he had actually picked another woman but the following day when he met this one, he said to Rosa, this is the one. And cancelled his previous preference for the other woman. I genuinely believe they are so well matched and believe destiny can be such a beautiful thing for them to be able to find each other despite literally being worlds apart. It reminded me of what my manicurist said before I left. How God made human beings able to communicate with each other without words. You didn't have to have that checklist or have lengthy conversations to be able to connect and feel and get each other. Whenever I looked at this couple I felt so overjoyed for them.

After 2 people took my phone away from me and the room blaring of music to translate directions to Bekzhod, I saw him quietly in the corner of the room. He came just at the end.

Something happened between him and Rosa when they greeted each other. I'm not sure what but her demeanor changed and I felt something uncomfortable. I'm not sure if she sensed his disapproval or if it was something in their eyes. She said she would drop me off. I said he actually brought his car (I lied, this guy is the king of cabs) but thanked her profusely for inviting me to come.

Me and Bekzhod stayed back after everyone left and cleared off the wine. The label was written in Russian but was a "Japanese" wine that tasted of cherry.

Anyhow, we walked back afterwards and on our way back we passed the hotel of the first flower shop I went to, Tashkent Palace. We heard music coming from the hotel and he said there was a party on the rooftop deck and said you want to see a real Uzbek wedding? Let's go.

This is such the type of thing I love to do. The plan was that we would play dumb foreigners, I would speak in English, and he would just say yes and no.

The crowd looked pretty uppity, well dressed, and it was too formal for us to walk in. Plus there were employees standing by the doors and there was only a group of 25-30 left dancing so it wasn't a large enough crowd for us to go in. It was fun regardless.

We walked through the streets of Tashkent and through a gorgeous park. He kept asking don't your feet hurt? Take off your shoes. I said no, because you will probably run away with them or something like that. He said you don't trust me, and I'm unreliable. I said why don't you take your shoes off then if it's really okay, I don't want to step on glass or hurt myself. He said how he has socks, blah blah. We passed by an Ecco shoe shop and he said let's go look at the shoes. There were sprinklers everywhere and he kept insisting we run through them. There was no freaking way I was going to run through sprinklers in my Catherine Malandrino chiffon dress. Even I know that shit wrinkles with water and I wasn't about to stress about finding the right dry cleaner in Tashkent. We saw a bald man put his head in the sprinkler. Bekzhod said see, even he's doing it. And screamed out to him, "fontain haroshi?" and some other stuff I couldn't understand.

Anyhow, it was a gorgeous night. The weather was perfect for a walk. After a while my feet really did kill enough for me to take off my shoes. It's something I would've probably done on my own (after long nights as soon as I'd get to my apt lobby I would take off my shoes and walk barefoot to the elevator), but I later felt like for some reason it was a test of trusting him.

We talked while we walked. We smoked a few cigarettes, talked some more. It was seriously one of the most romantic nights I've had in a long time. It was just perfect.

And I guess just as with everything else, certain things stay the same. There is always that person you always wonder what could've been if it was a different situation.

And just as with the grooms and brides I saw that night, I also realized even more that you didn't have to speak the same language or have had a long history to know if you connected with someone.

I'm not sure what he felt but we didn't talk to each other today. I don't know if we both realized we might be testing that line, if we were both embarassed from the night, or if it was b/c I blew up at Kozim in the morning (I'll save that for another entry, this is the wrong place to put it).

But I guess my time in Tashkent wouldn't be complete if I didn't have a small moment of love, even if it may be something just in my mind.

Weekend

Friday night my co-worker Malika and her mom were kind enough to take me to a dance performance to see some Uzbek dancing.

We went to a restaurant called "Bahor". The place itself was gorgeous in the grand, soviet way of many buildings and places here.

The show ended up being tailored for foreigners and tourists. Instead of local Uzbek dancers, we ended up getting plastic looking Russian girls wearing very little clothes that sparkled way too much to be local, traditional costumes who did tacky renditions of "dancing". It was terrible. More shocking than there, there was very little feeling to their movements or expression, void of any emotion, and all you could smell was sex.

I was revolted.

I realized this is why you avoid the touristy places for foreigners if you want to experience the real feeling of a culture.

And I was surprised I had gained enough of a sense of the local culture to discern the real from the canned. It felt terrible.

But dinner itself was wonderful as I filled an unknown craving and had western style lamb chops with mashed potatoes and steamed vegetables.

Saturday I met up with Jamshid, an almost colleague who I have been in touch with over the last year.

Despite mostly having chatted online and only spoken on the phone once, I could always tell he was such a gentleman and had the sweetest personality.

He was gracious enough to take me to the local mountains. On our way we stopped at the side of the road at an outdoor, no name restaurant run by a mother and her daughters. I tried this incredible yogurt soup with fresh herbs, corn and barley. I'm not a yogurt fan, but in the scorching heat this soup tasted incredibly cooling and fresh. We also had these samosa type things with potatoes and onions in it, and then some freshly made rasberry-esque fruit juice.

The place didn't have a refrigerator so instead, they poured cold water into a concrete square and stored their drinks there. Whenever a customer ordered a drink they would pull it out and serve it.

Nature at its finest.

We went through a hotel in the mountain where there was a pool with an in incredible backdrop of the lake. I saw more people than usual dressed in the local traditional Uzbek garb of skull caps and long tie-dyed type dresses. We walked to the lake and waded in knee-high. I told him I could seriously live there.

Outside in between the pool and the lake there's an outdoor area fenced in with bamboo. In the center there's a bar and some speakers. This was the 'discotech' at night.

On our way back I had a craving for Korean food. We went to a restaurant, "Sim Chon" with his friend. The restaurant had a dj booth and dance floor. I had trouble ordering as the menu was in Russian. The woman next to me suddenly spoke some Korean and helped me order some of the most amazing banchan dishes. I was stunned she could speak Korean. She said she had taken some classes at a Korean school in Tashkent. She was shocked I was from America. Hilariously, while I was eating she turned and took a picture of me. I was suddenly the very curiosity that I had found all these "go-ryo-in's" to be. Go-ryo-in is a term the Soviet Koreans call themselves, which is different from what Koreans from Korea call themselves, "han-guk saram", which is different from Koreans born in America are referred to, "(jae-mi) kyopos", which is different from what Koreans born in Japan are called, "jae-il kyopos". So even amongst Koreans spread out throughout the world, for some reason they've had to classify themsleves into different categories.

We exchanged numbers, her name turned out to be Elisa, and she told me about a Korean outdoor bazaar where they sell Korean food.

After dinner Jamshid brought me back to the hotel. The nicest thing about him was despite it being the first time we met, we spoke as though we had been friends forever. There was such a sincerity and connection despite having had such different lives and having grown up in different countries. What amazed me so much was how progressive his thinking is. I haven't even come across many men in America who were as thoughtful and liberal as he.

I came back and called my co-worker Bekzhod. We made plans to go see the World Cup game as Sweden was playing Spain and Russia was playing Greece. He had lived and gone to school in Sweden for 2 years, and Russia is the closest team Uzbekistan roots for. Hence, it was a very important night.

While waiting for him outside my hotel, another Uzbek-Korean woman suddenly asked me in Korean if I was Korean. We were so happy to have met each other and also exchanged numbers. This woman was named Rosa. You'll see the significance to this meeting later on.

We went to 3 bars before we found a decent place that would take us. It was an outdoor area with a huge tv, and I had surprisingly good Russian beer, though I forget what the name was. We had pistachios, cheese, and some other nuts and mixed with the exhilaration of watching a game, being outdoors during a summer night, and being so relaxed on a weekend, I had such a good time.

Sunday I decided to go to Oloy Bazaar near my hotel after my scary attempt at Chorsu bazaar the previous. I felt so proud to buy some fruit. After Malika's mom had given me apricots the last week I was craving more. I bought some apricots, plums, nectarines, and cherries, and ate some cake at a patisserie in the bazaar.

I came back to the hotel and felt restless. I remembered wanting to check out the Alisher Navoi theater for ballet. Despite the performance having started already, I quickly got into an overpriced cab and went.

The theater was gorgeous. Huge, grand, ornate with beautiful chandeleirs and ceilings, I was so glad I pushed myself to go alone. Ironically, the woman gave me the same ticket as another girl who was already in my seat. However, fate will have it that this was another Korean girl traveling solo, but this time from Korea. We were so happy to be able to communicate in a way that can only be appreciated when you've been solo in a foreign country for a while. She said she was going to check out a Korean restaurant that night which ironically I had been meaning to try, "Han Guk Kwan", or rather "zan guk khan" as is cryrillic-ized.

While my friends think I'm uber adventurous to come out here, I am nothing compared to another species of travellers: the backpackers.

This breed can wing it on the moment without a place to stay, face last minute police and visa issues with a calmness and coolness I could never fathom, and face any travel issue that comes their way with a bold confidence and true sense of free spiritedness.

I met her and 2 of her housemates from where she was staying, called the "guest house", which I gather is similar to a home for foreigners. One guy was from France and he had a year off which apparently is mandatory in France every 6 years. He decided to use this sabbatical to, *get this*, bike. He BIKED from France to here. I was amazed. He had already biked through Italy, Iran, Tajikistan, and yet that evening was his first night trying Korean food.

Another woman was from Japan and had majored in middle eastern and Indian history. She knew how to say mosquito repellant in Hindi, Farsi, Uzbek, and Russian. Yuri, the girl I met at the ballet theater, is about to go to Iran for a month and they began to advise her about mosquito repellent and the lack of atm/cash machines and hence the need to carry currency with her.

Dancing

So. As I'm finding no matter how far you go, there are certain things that stay the same.

Unfortunately, this also includes that one person in the office you have tension with that can ruin your day.

Yesterday, I was slightly annoyed at the end of the day. But to my luck, the office manager Malika had followed up on a request I made several days before: belly dance lessons.

I've taken these in NY and San Diego from time to time, and it was something I decided for myself that I would try to keep up here. It's a hobby that I can bring with me to many places around the world while continuing something I love.

It was held at a snazzy gym but the teacher was Russian, not Uzbek or Arabic. We immediately got scolded for not wearing the appropriate attire.

The teacher was very Russian. By this I mean she did not show much emotion, did not smile, was serious, authoritative, and precise about the dance. She was awesome. Despite this lack of external expressions, you could feel her warmth in other ways. The way she would look over or try to translate a couple words to make sure I understand. The way she would glance a little longer at the adorable 3 year old girl who kept rolling yoga balls around the room while we were dancing. But what was awesome was the lesson was conducted in Russian.

And using the same words I've been using to be able to communicate with the cab drivers, there they were: "Left, left, right, right, straight, straight!"

I loved learning something in Russian. While I love working with my co-workers and joking with them in English, I'm now finding the urge to try to pick up some more Russian and communicate.

After the lesson I went back to the hotel. But I had the craving to go out again. I think I'm slowly coming back to my old self.

I asked the hotel concierge if he could find me a Korean restaurant, I was craving Korean again. He directed me towards a place called Casanova. He said "haroshi restoran" - good restaurant. I said, okay. I asked a couple times if he was sure it was Korean, he kept saying da, da.

So there I went and there I arrived. I opened the door and to my horror and mortification, it was a nightclub/restaurant.

In the US there's no way I would be caught dead by myself in a nightclub.

But I burst out laughing when I saw this. My taxi driver had left, and it wasn't as though I could easily find another Korean restaurant. It turned out this place was owned by Koreans, hence why it was listed under that section at the hotel. Hell though, try everything once, and everything is a new experience. This was over the top though, even for me.

I was seated on the 2nd floor and watched the people dance downstairs. The waiter, who spoke English and who would later turn out to be my one kill joy of the evening, said he could switch me downstairs if I wanted to watch dancing, and that they had a dance performance at 10pm. I was so excited. I've been craving clubbing and some form of dance performance since I got here. I was so fortunate that an accident turned into a blessing in disguise I thought to myself.

Thank god for Lonely Planet's section on food cuisine. I tried translating some of the menu to myself to learn a few words. Downstairs my waiter was a very young looking Korean boy. I became so excited. I tried asking him what the name of the song playing was and whether he could write down the singer. The waiter from upstairs would keep rushing down every time I asked something and in his broken English try to explain everything to me.

This quickly put a damper on my mood as 1) I really wanted to practice my Russian 2) I was having a lot of fun figuring things out in my broken Russian and finding ways to connect with the locals and 3) every time he spoke in English to me I felt stupid and as though he was insulting my intelligence.

Of course he was trying to make sure I understood everything and was comfortable, and also wanted to practice his own Russian skills. But by this point I had gotten comfortable with my broken Russian, a little bit braver, and eager to continue to find my way around in this new language.

In any case, out came a huge carafe of cherry juice, a basket of bread large enough for 10 people, my blini with caviar, and my Korean "banchan" which was a root vegetable I hadn't had before, but very strong and pungent with vinegar and spices.

I was so hungry I ordered another cutlet with french fries, to which of course the waiter came rushing over again.

So onto the dance performance. About 6 very young looking girls came out in an athletic sweatsuit type piece and did a hip hop dance. They were so cute and I thought to myself, they still had the feel of being young girls, the cuteness, but not quite yet the womanly feeling.

The next number they came out in black suits, it was much more serious, and there was something very sexy about it.

Well, I was right about that part. When the song was winding down, they suddenly took their clothes off to reveal leather bondage type shorts and corsets with stitching. Hineys in the air and moves I couldn't even replicate if I tried, my mouth just dropped.

Next was a flamenco type number with glow in the dark nude/light green tights.

But the finales were beautiful. They had these gorgeous turquoise type belly dancing clothes, and with shifon waving in the air, they went around to the tables to get tips.

Pretty sure no one would approach me as I was a single girl sitting alone, and generally women feel more comfortable asking men for tips then women, I sat amused and watched.

One adorable girl though did have the guts to come up, and I smiled and laughed as I gave her 1,000 soum.

Staying out way past my ususal bedtime, I finally felt it time to go. Of course the waiter rushed over to give me the bill, then to tell me to please give him X amount, that the total was X amount.

I realized how being a foreigner can often bring you back down to the level of a baby in your eyes or in theirs.

I returned to my hotel still laughing and got the best night of sleep I'd had in a long time.

I found out this morning that the place I went to was not exactly a nightclub, but really a strip club. The girls apparently are underage and are not allowed into these place. I vaguely remembered a Korean guy leading them in and out. The first thought in my mind when I saw him was he reminded me of a pimp.

But go figure. I went from arabic dancing to a strip dancing show all in one day. It makes it that much more fun being in a foreign country. For some reason, this wouldn't have been as funny if I had been traveling with someone.

There is something so wonderful about traveling alone, without any type of safety net, and completely being in the moment.

Time

Being in a new place, my sense of time and distance is warped.

I can't measure yet how far something is, or how long it would take me to get somewhere.

But today I was running late - for a good reason though, Ellie called from NY! - and I refused to take the taksi in front of the hotel that wanted to charge me 3,000 soum, and I was too impatient to wait another 10 minutes for the taksi the hotel called.

So I walked to work and realized it was faster to walk here than all those days I've waited 10 minutes for a cab and then another 5 to get here.

On my way here, I saw birds.

I've never gone bird watching, but I've always loved birds. I've always loved the way they could fly, take off when they wanted, and just be free.

But what was interesting about the birds here is that they're different. In a way, it's like duh, of course they would be different.

I'm used to seeing pigeons in NY. Way too many of them.

But the ones here are beautiful, with different colors. And I realized one of the birds I saw is the same type of bird my aunt once raised. This is the aunt on my mom's side who I'm uncannily similar to in personality. She was once coming home and saw a baby bird that had been injured under a tree. Afraid it would get eaten by an animal, she brought it home and they raised it. It used to jump around the house with its broken wing and would eat out of their hands. When my uncle would go to work he'd say "bye gga-soon-ni (bird)" and she would reply, "gga, gga".

But today I saw a gga-soon-ni bird, and it made me feel comforted to see something familiar I had seen before.

Perfect weather

Last night I saw the most beautiful sky during my walk home with Bekzod. It was the most perfect blue, slight breeze, warmth, and amazement combined.

Some idiot has been calling my room and last night was no exception. I got woken up at 2am only to hear a male's voice saying sorry, wrong number. The frustrating thing is you don't even know who it is so you can't even say, are you insane??!

Today I took another taksi to work, this time it was one of the 2nd hand benz's I've seen in the country. I was surprised to see several Mercedes here, but my colleagues told me that there are some wealthy ubeks, and that also many are sold secondhand.

For lunch we went to a local Uighur place, yay! I was craving noodles so we drove out to this local place and got Lakhman, their local noodles. They were so delicious and tasted very similar to Korean noodles, only these were handmade on the spot. The guy would take the long tough and twirl it in his fingers and slap it against this hard wood slab, so while you're eating in the other room you'd occasionally here these "whack whacks".

The teas are incredible here, as are the yogurt sauces you can dip your naan into. The silk road just amazes me. You can sense and feel the similarities throughout the region. The yogurt sauces remind me both of Greek and Turkish food, while also sharing similarities to Russian food. But the main Uighur dishes also remind me of certain East asian cuisines. Lakhman is very similar in spices and constitution to Korean "yoo-gae-jang", only the noodles are thick and white. But both are spicy soups with meat, some vegetables, and noodles.

I asked what the name of the restaurant is and my colleagues said there's no name, it's simply just a local place they know of. One guy joked "national uighur restaurant of Uzbekistan".

Again, the jetlag is slowly setting in. I got an email this morning from NY related to some boy/love drama in NY. It took me a few hours to just let it go and leave it behind. Coincidentally, a friend from back home happened to email me about her love drama right now. I just felt so sick of it all though. At the end of the day you can't influence a person's decisions or tell them what's right or wrong. All you can do is just let them be and decide for yourself if you want to stick around or walk based on how they are and act. Just a bit of a sticky situation I left behind, but hopefully this trip will keep forcing me to accept and let go when it comes to love. That's all you can do sometimes.

You never know..

I woke up this morning feeling off. A bit crummy actually. From getting my period early to feeling jetlagged sleep deprived, the physical was starting to take its toll.

I came into the office to check on comments for the presentation. Bam. More info needed.

Another hurried frenzy to try to figure out what it is our boss wants, how to allocate the tasks, and how to get the info.

We went to Bukhara for lunch, a local place for local fare. It was my first day not going to the treasury for lunch, and a nice change of environment.

The tablecloths were made of the national dress apparently - a tie dyed splotchy type piece. Our lunch began with a tomato and onion salad, huge round pieces of naan, a sour cream sauce, and finally shyshlek.

Shyshlek is one of their main meat cuisines, basically meat on a skewer, but it was delicious. The place was such a local place that my co-workers had to speak to the waitresses in Uzbek.

A funny thing is in NY I'm always the slowest eater amongst my friends. They sometimes say it's cuz I talk a lot. But the thing is, I really don't talk a lot.

But here again, I was the last one eating. Some things never change regardless of where you go to I realized.

I noticed they were pretty quiet at lunch. Don't you guys talk when you eat I asked? Sherzod was telling me that in Uzbekistan people don't really talk about their feelings. I wondered if this was due to the Muslim culture, but Farkhad said that it is more likely from the soviet times. I asked how do you get to know each other then, don't the women talk?

He said oh yeah, Uzbek women talk too much and eat too much. I couldn't stop laughing. I knew I must've come to the right place when he said the women here eat too much.

A funny thing about crossing the roads. I've taken our NY crosswalks that no one really pays much attention to for granted. Here, although there are crosswalks, you don't really wait for them. You just go. Cars are coming and going, you may end up stuck in the middle of the street. But it's like playing chicken. I got stuck in the middle of the road watching cars going by me in opposite directions.

After lunch we came back to work on the presentation some more. The funny thing is in the US when I surf the net at work, it's usually stuff about the news, or whether Angelina Jolie is really pregnant and having twins or not.

Here though, I am constantly learning something new. For our project our boss asked we include some slides on private equity in the region, and capital flows from sovereign wealth funds.

I didn't know certain funds existed. I came across the EDRC - a European bank which invests globally in infrastructure. I learned that Morgan Stanley has also recently created an infrastructure fund. And there are numerous other specialized funds which focus in the region and with local partners.

I asked Mokhir about any confectioner type companies. He introduced me to Lakhat online, a local Kazak company, but we couldn't figure out whether it was publicly or privately owned.

And as I kept drifting on the net I started mentally wondering whether maybe I should look into doing private equity in frontier markets, whether pursuing the world bank, IMF, or IFC is a better option, whether I should try to look into a private equity internship instead or a banking one to give a better base and background.

It amazes me how being in a foreign country I am forced to learn so much more in a day than I normally would in my own comfort zone back home. Everything is a discovery. The clean sewage and water projects, the socially responsible investments in manufacturing whether for garments or wires. And how certain countries have been so fast to already move into this region. Did you know Japan has a small business enterprise with Uzbekistan already? And the EDRC. Is it not coincidental that the British have pretty much conquered every region at some point in time and that still reflects today? It's amazing how well the EDRC seems to be set up and how many projects they've been doing for the last 10 years in this region. I sent the internship info to myself in case I can set something up there for even a brief stint.

But it made me realize I have to probably keep improving my Russian if I want to do business here later. So much I'd like to do, but there's such a sense of frustration as I realize how much time it takes to hit the level I'd want to at something, and how things are a process now, no overnight quick fixes.

So here I am at work again, it's almost 8pm, with Bekzod in the office. We call each other torturer. But this same torturer also makes sure I get home safely, was kind enough to show me around Tashkent my first day here, and shows a courteousness, sincerity, and maturity as a man despite his young age.

I've never had so much fun at work though. Back in the day when Bradley and I first started, it was so new and fresh. He didn't have kids yet and our fund was on paper. I remember how we'd stay late at night working so hard to get things set up. I would take the 559am train and get home around 11, sometimes midnight. I had never worked so hard in my life, but I remember feeling such a sense of accomplishment, learning, and achievement. I felt so fulfilled.

Working here has brought back that re-invigoration and inspiration again. I'm sure at some point the excitement and newness will wear off. It always does... with a lot of things :) But for now, I'm enjoying the ride and holding onto this feeling. It's not every day that I have such a special feeling.

Korean ajushi's

What would this trip be without the Korean ajushi's.

They have been a big source of hilarity, random laughs, comfort, and familiarity all rolled into one.

There is a group of Korean men in my hotel who I see at breakfast. They range from probably young 30's to ajushi's - term used for older, Korean men, basically like your dad.

There is one who has cracked me up from day one.

Let me backtrack a bit. My hotel includes breakfast every morning. I go down to the coffee shop where I chose from an array of meats, cheese, fresh tomatoes, breads, honey, jams, and an assortment of hot foods - my favorite being the fried potatoes which I smatter with a local sourcream dill sauce.

And every morning I see groups of random foreigners eat together, and I take my place at my own table and eat 2-3 plates of food.

On one of my first days, there was a Korean ajushi with glasses and a stout constitution yelling/barking "mool, MOOL" to the waitress as though she had to know what he was talking about.

She stood with a blank expression staring at him while he kept impatiently yelling the same word for water over and over again.

Fortunately, that was one word I do know, so I told the server in Russian, to which she asked warm or cold, I asked him in Korean, to which he said I don't care, just mool, mool, and I laughed all the way back to the room.

This morning the same guy was there. Looking at me, he said in Korean, you're here a long time too.

I don't know if anyone else would find this so funny. What struck me was it was so apparent that he was the sort who spoke his mind and thoughts whenever he felt like it, as we could call it "mal mak-hae (speak however he pleases), his lack of trying to explain or connect his ideas in a foreign language through any gestures or pictures or smiles - he simply just expected everyone to understand what he was saying, whereas I have constantly been grateful for hand gestures, pictures, and smiles to get me by , and yet somehow this funny man made it by being able to eat and sleep with his tour group and lack of awareness or desire to make an effort towards better understanding what was going on around him or the local culture here.

But this idiosyncratic, hilarious creature has become more and more a comforting persona to me here. The minute I see him he just makes me laugh. One of those people who are funny without trying to be.

Farkhad and I agreed last night to come to the office by 8am to try to resurrect the deleted project I had worked on.

I made it here by 8am, and he rolled in at about 845. He said to me, I'm sorry, I was watching soccer last night until 3am.

I burst out laughing, thinking to myself how everyone is the same around the world. If it isn't re-runs of sex in the city, a late night game, or what else, we all sometimes put our responsibilities secondary to indulge in our favorite entertainments.

Just as expected the presentation was gone, but miraculously after a day off from looking at it, the corrections went quickly and we gathered the team around my desk to run through it.

I am slowly beginning to get to know their personalities. Mokhir is what I call the secret genius. He claims he doesn't, but I think he has a slight photographic memory, and he computes numbers in his head. Very young and innocent looking, he doesn't say much, but he always makes me laugh.

Sherzod is the funny guy who has the only bloomberg station here. He's the same guy who went out and got me a burger, fries, and an oversized bottle of Sprite on Saturday.

Timur seems very mature, and also very quiet.

Bekzhod is the slight trouble maker. What I mean by that is just when we are reaching consensus he has the opposite opinion or argues the other case. While they all gathered around my desk and we discussed the slides I couldn't stop laughing. I said, there will never be peace when Bekzhod is here.

In less than a week they are already becoming so precious to me. It's amazing how despite language barriers and knowing nothing about them from before, I am slowly beginning to get a sense and feel of their different personalities. They are all so lovely already to me, and I already know how much I will miss them when I leave.

Btw, I have been making slow, tiny victories and improvements. This morning my taxi driver began taking me to the other business center. I was able to stop him and give him instructions to the proper building. My goal is to get to the point where I can get into a taxi and they don't sense I'm a foreigner, or I can bargain down to that rate. When Alexey, the security guard downstairs, put me in a taxi, I only had to pay 500 soum. When I go on my own or when the hotel calls one for me, I pay the foreigners premium of 2000 soum. Yesterday when I got lost at one of the metro stations, a driver said he would take me to my hotel for 7,000 soum. I may not know much, but I knew enough to know this was such a rip off. And despite being vulnerable as a foreigner here and not having a clue as to where to go, I couldn't stand to get that ripped off. So my pride said no despite him being the only driver in the area and that's what lead me to my botched metro ride. Despite being in no position to make demands, I refused to compromise my pride and get that ripped off.

But still. This is what is making it all so fun and interesting. While pointing and uttering my highly unsophisticated words of no, 2, no no, 1, no no... I have been bargaining and arguing my way with cab drivers.

When I recounted my whole story to Farkhad this morning though, he said I had ended up in the old part of Uzbekistan, and that I should really not do that again. That I should've called one of them for help, and that they do not recommend foreigners going to Chorsu bazaar, and that a lot of people in that area are highly unaccustomed to foreigners.

Sometimes not knowing is the saving grace of fearlessness.

Lost and Found

Wow, what a long day.

So I went on the tour with Eremod (the guide Malika hired for me) and he showed me around Tashkent. We saw an arts theater which amazingly was built by the Japanese when they were here during 1945-1950 as prisoners of war, along with some other buildings nearby. He told me after they were let go most of them returned to Japan after 10 years or so.

We also saw a huge park, some famous monuments (such as the one which was built after a large earthquake, I'm presuming the one in 1966), and a statue which used to have Lenin on it but is now replaced by a globe to symbolize peace.

We also went through an upper middle class neighborhood, and a beautiful university I believe of mosques. There I got to see the beautiful blue domes which are more characteristic of Samarkand.

The ornate muslum architecture throughout Tashkent is amazing. I also wanted to see some places to buy souveniers, so we went to a couple places where the people make handcrafted boxes, wood carvings, doors, and paintings. Oddly though, I didn't end up buying anything as I couldn't make up my mind. I want to get some paintings to remember Uzbekistan by. I was thinking of getting something that is very silk road-esque for my parents, and I'd like a few muslim pieces for myself.

It was so hot during the day though that I could barely make it through the tour. I asked if we could please turn on the a/c in the car, and Emerod told me he would ask since some of the cars don't have a/c. Fortunately for us, ours did.

After the tour I came back to the hotel and decided to rest. My card key didn't work, and it turns out it's due to being demagnetized by my cell phone. After switching it I came to the room and read up some more on the region and lounged around in bed. I kept debating whether to call Galina, Tatiana's niece. Thing is though, still a bit sick and extremely tired, I thought it would be too draining to meet up with a stranger and have to sit and focus. I wanted to call her when I was in better condition to be jovial and outgoing. I was about to drift off into sleep, but decided to fight it. Losing a day to laziness here was a day of experiences I could never get back again later. It wasn't like being lazy in NY or the US. I forced myself to think of something to do and get out of bed.

So I went to Tashu bazaar (or was it Toshku or Kashku). Actually, it's Chorsu. I had been hoping to see some more of the Korean vegetable/kim chi type stands, but this one seemed a lot more local. They sold clothes in one section which was reminiscent of the open air market I went to in Florence. As I climbed the stairs towards the vegetable/fruits section a babushka's plastic bag was blowing away from her. Thinking I was doing a kind thing I stepped on it to prevent it from blowing away further. I kind of dragged it over with my feet as I didn't want to touch it being my body is already filled with bacteria, I didn't want any more. She ended up yelling at me and showed me that I dirtied the bag. I didn't know what to do or say except just slightly bowed and said sorry in English and walked away.

I went into the market though this time, while I found some of the prepared vegetable stands I didn't see any Koreans. It seemed that this bazaar was mostly filled with Turks and middle easterners. There is this one spice here that I've loved so far - it smells and tastes like a very strong pungent dill. But for some reason in the market the scent began to overwhelm me. I browsed through rows of herbs, vegetables, and fruits, and then went into a building and this one seemed to have stands mostly of rice and grains.

Earlier in the day I decided I was craving Korean food and that I would finally go eat at a restaurant. I got some rough directions of a place at the hotel before I left. As I was leaving the bazaar to look for a taxi, a man approached me and asked where I was going. I said a Korean restaurant. He said where. I said somewhere near. We argued over how much he would charge me. I had been hoping to blend in on this trip by saying very few words but it's turned out to be quite obvious that I'm a foreigner. For some reason when the taxi drivers ask me if I'm from Korea, that feels like the safer answer to give than to say I'm from the America. So as of today I've learned to just say that da, I am from se-wool.

I began to get a little worried as I got into his car. I realized there was no sign that said "taxi" and this was one of those gypsy taxi cars the guide books had warned us of. To make matters worse he went into an underground tunnel and onto what looked like a freeway-equivalent, but a road I hadn't travelled before. Paranoid thoughts briefly raced my mind - what if he was taking me somewhere I had no idea of and something happened to me? I looked around and calmed myself down by realizing the locks were manual and it was still broad daylight. Worst case scenario I would run out of the car.

After what I think was a conversation asking me which Korean restaurant, what street, where was it, to which all I could answer was "ya ne znayo" (I don't know) I quickly looked up a word in my phrasebook and said "lyuboi" - take me to any (Korean restaurant). I hope my readers are beginning to get a sense of how rudimentary and child-like my Russian is, but how astonishingly I have been able to get by this way.

Serendipity will have it that he took me to one that I hadn't seen before despite having asked my driver on my tour earlier in the day to show me the main ones. More luck will have it that it looked closed, to which I told my driver "net aktrit" - not open - to which he argued da aktrit, da da. I got out of the car.

The place was called "chun-ga-wee" and when I entered, I tried speaking to the waitress by telling her I would be eating alone. From behind a lovely young Korean woman poked her head out and told me in Korean to sit down. I couldn't believe it - a local ethnic Korean woman who could speak Korean.

Excited to finally eat Korean food, but saddened to see that just as the guidebook mentioned there was "dog meat soup" (btw, I have never eaten this before nor seen it specifically on a menu despite having gone to Korea almost every summer since birth). In any case, I excitedly looked through the menu and was surprised by how expensive certain dishes were. The jungols (large portioned stews meant to be shared) were 35,000 soum - somewhat equivalent to about $35.

When I arrived at the restaurant, they brought me a glass of water. I asked the waitress if she had a bottle instead. She said no. I asked for a bottle of coke then, but they didn't have that either unless I wanted a really huge bottle for myself. I finally settled on a glass of coke with no ice, but I was dying of thirst after being outdoors in the sun for so long.

I decided to order one of my favorite Korean dishes - dooboo kimchi - stir fried kimchi with pork and tofu.

The young Korean girl came over and we began to talk. I asked how her Korean was so good. She told me she had studied it at the University here, and I found out she was a 3rd generation Korean-uzbek. She corrected me several times as I called her a "hanguk saram" - Korean person. She said they call themselves Koryo-ins, and that hanguk saram's are from Korea. She was so fascinating that as the banchan (appetizer dishes) came out I didn't bother eating and kept talking to her. She finally told me to eat first and that we'd talk later.

The banchan was amazing. The kimchi was definitely saltier than what I was used to, but so flavorful nonethelss. The hobak (green squash?) appetizers were so tasty, as were the potatoes, and I briefly remembered how all the food is organic as everything is grown locally.

When I was talking to her I found out that her grandparents were from North Korea, and that many have lost ties to their relatives as names were changed when the ancestors first came to Russia. The last name "Chun" or "Jun" became "Jjan" due to the Russian translation. So despite her grandfather having a son somewhere in Korea, it was near impossible to track him down as they no longer knew the original names of their relatives.

I wanted to bring her into my family and give her my relatives and tell her to come join my family. But I halted when I thought of certain cousins I wouldn't want to subject her to.

In any case, as I was talking to her I thought of my own family. On my mother's side we're from the North. But when I say North, I mean the way tippy tippy top part of North Korea, the part that kisses Russia. I wondered whether this girl and I were related, as we have a couple relatives who didn't make it to South Korea and their seeds could very well be somewhere in Uzbekistan for all I knew.

She told me there was a large Korean population and that many lived in a certain neighborhood (I don't remember the name) and that there was a strong Korean community. I couldn't believe it though when she told me how generation after generation the very strong belief that koryo-in's must marry koryo-in's was passed down, and how her own husband was also a koryo-in.

What is it about this strong resolve in Koreans, so strong that even somewhere as far and remote in Uzbekistan the same mentality and beliefs were still being carried out? Is the insistence and desire to stay within the Korean bloodlines something that is so deeply a part of our blood? Was it cultural? Or just the natural mentality?

As we swapped funny stories, she told me I was very "dae-dan-hae" to be going around alone like this on my own here. It's funny though. I don't know if it's being dae-dan-hae or a little crazy, but I realized it was pretty brave and gutsy to be doing so.

Fascinated and flabbergasted, I proceeded to eat my meal. Embarassingly, I could barely make a dent in it and felt so bad to leave behind almost a full plate.

I didn't know my phone number but wanted to stay in touch. She called her phone to help me find out my phone number, and gave me her own number and told me to call if I need anything at all. I felt so touched and warmed. Just as with Luba and Tatiana, the 2 Uzbek women in NY I befriended at the Uzbek consulate in NY, there was this natural "jung" that could come only between Korean women. I felt this again, this time more pronounced as I really am so alone and vulnerable here in Uzbekistan. I found out this lovely young woman's name was Sveta - short for Svetlana. My first Korean friend in Tashkent.

She told me of a large Korean supermarket where many Koreans went. Determined to find it, I followed her directions to take the number 3 bus and tell the driver to let me off at a certain place.

Problem was, I forgot where this was. Not only that, with patience I never would've had in NY, I watched as buses 33, 38, 57, 58 passed by over and over, but no sign of number 3.

After questioning whether my dress was too short given how many odd glances I kept getting from boys to older men, and holding myself back from asking a local babushka with a headscarf this question (I did not want to draw any more attention than necessary to myself as a foreigner), the number 3 bus finally came.

Long story short, the woman on the bus was so helpful and dear and instructed me where to get off when I told her large Korean supermarket. She yelled out on the bus if anyone knew where it was and I followed the pointing fingers.

Problem was, I couldn't find this place. After spotting some women carrying large packages of bottled water and asking them if the supermarkazi was across the street that way, I found a random small place that said "Korodni market" and was wondering if they confused my request with this. It was next to a Chinese restaurant.

But again, problem was I had no idea where this was and I couldn't find a taxi in sight. I decided to keep trying the public transportation system and entered the nearest metro.

Apparently you are not allowed to take pictures in the metro, and the guidebooks warned that at certain stations security was very heavy. Policemen are known to harass foreigners about seeing their passports, possibly searching them, and trying to get a monetary bribe or just make your life hell temporarily.

I don't know which way I took the metro but I got even more lost. I got off at the next stop, followed the few people who were around the dark, underground stop and fortunately found my way out. Deciding to not try my luck any more with gypsy cabs or random transportation, and being exhausted from getting lost, I asked a very young couple who looked like they were in high school at the oldest, if they knew which direction the hotel was. They walked me to a gypsy cab, where the young guy spoke to the driver and PAID for my cab fare to take me there. I couldn't believe it. I insisted on paying for it and kept saying nyet nyet, but he insisted.

I was so warmed and touched by this hospitality and random gesture of kindness. To be honest I never would've done such a thing for a random stranger in NY, and I can't think of anyone who would've done such a thing for me. This action was completely selfless and from the heart. I would never be crossing paths with this young man again, and there was nothing in return he could be getting from me either.

Unfortunately, I had no time to get his information to try to return the hospitality. With slight tears in my eyes and a very big heartfelt thank you, I kept waving to them from the car feeling so betroddened that I couldn't repay their kindness back in any way.

I have a bunch of random bottles of water I've bought during my time here, but at this point, I was so weary from this long day. All I wanted was water. But cold water.

I bought another bottle, curiously entered the restaurant where there was loud music playing to see what it was. There were a bunch more ethnic Koreans, and it looked to be like a wedding, but the bride looked Russian. Secretly hoping maybe some of the Koreans would see me and warmly invite me in, I stood at the door, but instead got some disapproving glances from the Russian ladies who saw me.

Finally, I went up to my room and ran a nice, clean bath. I wanted nothing more than to soak my itchy, dirty legs and just sit and rest.

I feel like this day has been the equivalent to a week. As I write this I still can't believe so much happened today. This is my 5th full day here in Uzbekistan, but today was a break through in so many ways. I finally got a bit of courage to venture out on my own, and it was the first day I created in my own way and didn't have the structure or obligation of work.

But I am so exhausted now. I'm not sure if I zapped my own brainpower by having to constantly focus on my surroundings, figure out how to get from one lost point to another lost point, or what. But I have never been so happy to be back at the hotel. I collapsed on the bed and just want to lay here forever. I hope I fall into a deep sleep tonight. This certainly feels like it was a dream.

Drat, Splat!

I knew it would happen. I was waiting for it to happen.

But I didn't expect it to happen so soon.

So after working until 9pm on Fri night, I met with members of our team Sat morning at 1030am to work on our presentation.

Fred, the other managing partner who is from Australia, came in and gave some "suggestions" on the presentation. He again mentioned how much he found the "new" and "next" frontier terms to be very effective. In corporate speak, this means - this is to go into the presentation.

I subtly asked my team what the management was like at the company by asking what happened when Fred and Alisher dissented on something. They said Fred was diplomatic enough that there usually wasn't any dissent, aka Fred knew the boundaries and there was no question who was boss if he wanted to keep his career safe. What about when Fred and the team disagreed I asked. One Fred trumped all the colleagues put together.

I quickly learned my place.

A bit nervous from jetlag, lack of sleep, and my new environment, I felt a bit sensitive that day. The night before after hearing Fred had gotten sick from a Turkish restaurant, despite being here for 4 years, I packed some meds "just in case". And with Fred scrutinizing my presentation that day and seeming a bit un-enthused, though this could've been from his being under the weather, I felt a bit shaky. I again reminded myself I had to rise above these feelings. I viewed his comments as a way to make the presentation better, but also that this type of dynamics and politics would be a common occurrence as I went up in my career.

I've been eating breakfast at the hotel every day despite not really being a breakfast person by nature. That day at the office, after the team had returned from lunch, I got hungry and asked if I could get delivery, a usual occurrence in NY.

In order to request delivery from the Turkish restaurant, I would've had to order 20,000 soum's worth of food. Instead, one of the colleagues said he could go get me a hamburger after I said I was craving french fries.

Excited, I took a picture of this burger and fries. I cleverly also requested to have the lettuce and tomato left out to be cautious about what I ate.

To my delight and surprise, at about this time my friend Ellie called. It was so good to hear her voice, and it was so touching to have her call me so many miles away. And in just the fashion that only women when they are close can do, I suddenly ran to the bathroom with her on the phone and there it happened: the big TD.

I downed my meds while trying to maintain my composure to my team despite feeling itchy, a bit run down, and craving nothing better than a nap or massage, and returned to working on my presenatation.

After 9 hours of working on the presenatation and becoming excited as I thought of better ways to break down the presentation, I made a huge, fatal mistake.

I accidentally closed the draft I had been working on without saving the file.

I called Farkhad, our office tech guy, and together on the phone we scoured my computer for a temporary back up file.

Nada.

*Sigh*. This reminded me of the several times I had worked on major pieces and the same thing happened. That huge 15-20 page term paper during finals period at Brown where my paper got wiped out not once, but twice despite my other exams I had to study for by the next day. The time at CREF when I was working on a pitch and the enormous amounts of hours and work put into it also disappeared in a matter of seconds.

And now this.

There was nothing I could do until the next day when Farkhad would try to come to the office to find the file.

Complicating the matter I did not yet have my magnetic card to be able to enter and leave the office as pleased.

I returned to the hotel and did what I knew best to unwind from a long, stressful day: I called the salon and asked if they had room for a massage.

Fortunately, this one thing did come my way. I received a very light yet soothing 1 hour massage from Olya, after which I went back to my room without having showered for 2 days and crashed into my bed.

Sunday morning and I have finally showered and am slowly getting ready to meet Gil, my tour guide in the lobby by 11am. I have already had breakfast, showered, and thrown up. But getting sick is a small price to pay to be here. Unfortunately, the meds have been working too well, and I am hoping that they will wear off so I can clear this out of my system.

Nonetheless, I can't wait for this to pass. I'm hoping the sooner the better, and that things have to get worse before getting better. Hopefully after this bout of sickness my immune system will have built a better tolerance for the rest of this trip.

And I quickly reminisced back to the time in Ecuador where I fell so sick and out of frustration and helplessness I cried and called home. I can't help but feeling grateful that years later I'm a stronger person and better equipped to deal with and manage these types of things.

Looking forward to my tour. I will bring my meds just in case.

Perfect morning

Despite my jetlag, waking up at 3am, and being unable to fall back asleep, I had the most perfect morning.

Independence and being comfortable in my new surroundings has been coming in small steps. Yesterday was the first day I walked home from work, and today was the first morning I walked to work. The weather was absolutely perfect. Sunny, with a light breeze, and right before the humidity has set in. I felt so inspired I took a picture of my building to remember the morning.

Last night I decided to hit the gym - something I haven't done in a long time. Well, it's a gym. But the guy told me everything is "manual" and not "automatic". Not knowing what that meant I went on the treadmill to find it wouldn't move despite pressing all the buttons I could. I went back to him and he said, it is manual. He came, and what he meant by manual is that to raise the treadmill, you have to take out the screws, re-adjust the platforms, and put the screws in. I told him the main part didn't work. He said, like this. You basically have to hold the sides and then move your legs. It's like a thin sheet of rubber stuck on a metal frame. After trying that for less than a minute, I felt so exhausted and discouraged. I tried doing the bike for a bit, weights. And to give a better picture of what working out means in a former soviet country, I used the jump rope in the health facility and jumped for the first time in years.

I decided to try going for a run the american way. Mind you, I am a terrible runner. So terrible, that my doctor ordered me to go see a cardiologist to check my heart. In any case, on my short run in the neighborhood, I passed by a supermarket and a drapery store. The supermarket was very simple, but it was good to find one in the area. Slowly I am venturing out of my hotel lobby's radius.

And now onto another day of work.... we'll see what happens today.

----
430pm

Oddly, homesickness is starting to set in. I didn't expect this so soon. I miss having normal conversations with friends about random whatever that's going on in our lives. So far my days are filled with work related discussions, but I am finding the need to want to connect on an emotional/personal level. Strange, I didn't expect this. I thought loneliness/fear of being alone in a foreign country would be a tough challenge. I think now I understand why a friend of mine who worked in Korea once called his friend after several months there and said, could we just stay on the phone and talk for a bit? I just want to hear your voice.

Funny, this is all such an interesting learning experience. Focus, find other ways to connect instead of conversation while you're here...

Arrival to Tashkent

After stressing relentlessly about how to organize my plane ticket, in the end I decided to go ahead with an 8 hour layover in Korea to have some time with my 92 year old grandmother.



As the driver was taking me onto the freeway outside Incheon airport at 430am, we passed by another taxi van at the side of the road with 2 people outside. We stopped to see what was wrong. The passenger, a woman probably around 70 years old, was freaking out saying she was too scared to ride in his car, while the driver was saying she had alzheimer's and didn't know what she was talking about. We transferred the bags and took her in our car, and she was so adorable I couldn't stop laughing. She had just visited her 2 sons who live in the NY area, and she said the driver had scared her. I said it takes quite a lot of guts to leave the car like that in the middle of the night, and had she been a male passenger, the discord probably would've ended in fist fights and some serious swearing at that hour.



Just as I arrived at my grandmother's home, she opened the door right as I was outside. The new housekeeper, a Korean lady from China, said she had been opening the door and waiting for someone for the past 2 days. Me. They even had my favorite rice prepared - kong bap - rice with beans, as my grandmother had her make it as she remembered how much I love it. I was shocked she remembered so much. I unloaded my suitcase filled with 10 boxes of chocolates for my grandmother I had slowly pilfered from work during Christmas time, as well as the pink scarf I had searched for the last few years for (the last one I sent her got lost in the mail). She kept tying the scarf around her neck and played with it as fortunately, she liked it. The phone rang at 7am and I picked it up saying "imo" - knowing it would be my aunt who also was awaiting my arrival. The funny thing with my imo is that despite us being more removed from each other than me and my mom, my aunt and I are so similar in habits, personality, and general outlook. She came over with some clothes, we went for lunch, and I was off to the airport again, less than 6 hours later.



I had been a nervous wreck before leaving NY, but this time around as I was finally going to be boarding for Tashkent I felt both excited and peaceful.



My arrival was wonderful, thanks to Malika, the office assistant who held up a sign with my name as I came out of the airport. We went straight to my hotel, the Markazy hotel (former Sheraton), where I quickly unpacked my clothes and made myself at ease in my new "home".



The next morning I decided to take a couple hours in the morning to get a manicure. I know I know, why would I be late for my new job b/c of a manicure? But for people who know me, they wouldn't be surprised. I went across the street at the DeDeman hotel where a skinny girl with long hair did my nails. I asked if she was Korean and proceeded to have a conversation in my stilted Russian. In the end I think I scared her off when I got really excited that her dye-dushka and babushka (grandparents) also live here and still speak Korean, and I asked if I could meet them. Politely she said I don't know. I left my information just in case, but realized I probably came on too strong with my excitement.



So... rolling into work, I was surprised that everyone in the office is MALE. I'm used to male dominated environments, but this was different. Except for Malika, every_single_employee is a male. They each gave brief introductions and honestly, I can't remember or repeat any of their names yet. We had lunch across the street and came back to the office. Fred, one of the partners, graciously allowed me to go on a quick tour with one of the employees and we went to the Tashkent national museum. The building is stunning. The ceiling inside is of a dome shape with the most beautiful intricate details and a gorgeous crystal chandeleir. The first floor was filled with paintings of one of their great conquerers, Tamerlane, reflective of the great national pride. On the 2nd floor there were more displays of traditional cloaks, some weaponry, and coins. I have never cared for weaponry before until this trip. It amazed me that back then that was how they fought, killed, and conquered people. Apparently the way Tamerlane won was b/c his armor and weapons were made of copper. In any case, what was also funny was they initially charged me a fee to be able to take pictures, but later returned the fee (minus 90% of it) because we had an office in their building. When I was on the 2nd floor the attendant brought me a cloak and hat to take pictures. I am assuming that is where the 90% of the fee went.



We also stopped by the outdoor bazaar (I was so curious about these) with rows of potatoes, onions, and beautifully peeled carrots in the first row, and in the 2nd I found what I was looking for. A Korean stand with kimchi's and different side dishes (banchans) run by an Uzbek Korean who no longer spoke Korean. I asked if I could take her picture, or rather, my colleague asked for me. She said why, and after some explanation she said I could take pictures of the food but not of her. I was so amazed by how the food could be exactly the same zillions of miles away and without direct influence from Korea over the years.



We returned to the office upon which we went to visit a hydro dam project about an hour away. I'm still a little fuzzy on the details, but apparently they are trying to buy a stake or join up with this businessman to build water dams. Apparently water is a huge problem here as water is supplied by Kyrgystan and Tajikistan, but only in the winters. In the summers there is no supply but ironically there are fountains here and there sprouting water. We looked around the site, the machinery, took some pictures and returned. The drive there was gorgeous - cows crossing our path in the streets, rolling valleys and mountains amid hot, arid air. Though I have to say our drive there was a little difficult b/c the businessman with whom we're trying to do a deal with (we had to re-arrange our seats to give him the seat of honor in front) dislikes a/c, and not only was I so hot and sweaty, but I think my makeup pretty much melted against my face. On our way back we split up - the businessman got into what to me looked like a Bentley but apparently is a "Volga" and absolutely gorgeous. Faced with jetlag and finally relaxing after so much anticipation about arriving, I passed out like the dumb foreigner in the back of the car on our way back. Up to my hotel room I went, along with one of the nicest deep sleeps I've had in a while.



This morning I woke up exhausted but woke up, went for breakfast, and got lost on my way to work. The taxi driver took me to the other business center, where fortunately an English speaking Uzbek guided me to a driver and gave him instructions on where to take me.



Day 2 has been filled with preparing for this presentation our managing partner is giving in NY next week. It has been a steep learning experience as until this trip I did not know what frontier market investing was. It's also been incredibly exciting managing, guiding, and leading a team of fresh eager colleagues while learning to devise and create things impromptu. Somehow confidence has sprung up, my voice has gotten louder when I need to present, and I already feel a sense of fondness and protectiveness towards my colleagues.



I still can't believe I am here, and I already know I will cherish these experiences and this part of my life forever.