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.