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.