Difficult times.

Yesterday was the first day things were really bad. It was to the point I began wondering if it would be better if I go back early.

Long story short there was a dispute at work. Fortunately, I have some very wise friends in NY who both gave me similar advice. With a clear decision in hand I went to sleep.

Then strangely, when I woke up today something felt very pleasant. The whole mood in the office is completely different. I don't know if something happened last night, or if it is this way. That some days are destined to just be chaotic, while others are peaceful. I was always an analyst just doing my work. Now from a manager's perspective I see things differently.

I had dinner last night with someone I met in Kazakhstan. After an already difficult day, it was a little bit exhausting. For 3 hours he told me about his life, his difficulties. And he said to please forgive him for talking so much, that he doesn't often get to meet with Korean people. I felt bad at the same time, realizing he probably doesn't get to unload often and we all need to at times. So despite exhaustion, I figured if it helped him release, why not. It was only 3 hours of my life.

Oddly enough, before our office manager left for Malaysia, I had a feeling it may not work out. She was very nervous when she left. I told her, if anything happens or you are not happy, just come back. I think things sometimes have to be perfectly aligned and the timing has to work with these things. If I had come here even a year ago, it wouldn't have been right. And if I had gone to school 2 years ago, it wouldn't have been right. Sometimes I think we don't see the reason and get frustrated when we see doors close. But now I am so grateful that I wasn't able to squeeze through when the time wasn't right.

Thank goodness this weekend is coming. On other note, I am very excited. I think I got a hold of one of the painter's sons. I can't explain it. I just feel such a strong connection to those paintings. I keep trying to focus on this aspect of my trip. These are the reasons I came. Open dreams. Open pursuits. And not knowing what will come.

Interesting day

After getting woken up at about 4am by a bunch of loud tourists outside my door, and getting little sleep, I was excited because the head guy was finally arriving to our office today.

He's been out traveling a lot, and I've been a little uneasy with the #2 guy's message and objectives and the direction I felt he was steering the team towards. Having the #1 guy will re-align and clarify the company's objectives, focus, and goals. And I also like him as a person.

An investor visited today from the UK. We all went out for lunch, and then visited a prospective investment, a DIY company. We got to see the building structure, land plots. It is so fascinating watching this city in its nascent stages of growth and development. I am so excited to be able to see a country in this stage.

I told the investor how I wanted to come here because it was still in its early development stages. He also commented how it's a lot harder to find this now than during his time. I liked him because we have similar ways of investing and observation. We both take ground up approaches. He noticed the increased traffic in one year. I noticed the new contemporary art museum. He noticed the number of cranes. I noticed the new types of restaurants and cafes that were cropping up. We both talked about how sometimes taxi drivers can give a wealth of information.

I fell asleep in the car. I was so exhausted. But it was fascinating. I learned that in Dubai there are many Israeli and American investors part of the sovereign fund. It shows that when it comes to money objectives will be aligned. And the high intellect of our times. People are more open I believe. We have more knowledge about other religions, cultures, and are more accepting of "different" ways.

I just hope I get a good night's rest tonight.

What I've seen, tasted, felt.

A bunch of noisy hotel guests woke me up at 3am, so now I'm up for good. I decided to use this time to catch up on some emails/blog writings. My friend Cindy, who was the incredible link which brought me here, asked me what I've seen, tasted, and felt here. The seen and tasted were easy to describe. But I've posted the what I've felt here.

And as for felt... I don't even know where to begin. I feel like I'm a different person here. And I feel like I've found my heart again. I've learned to trust my instincts and feelings again. I have to go by sensing, instincts, and intuition since I don't speak the language and this isn't my country. I can see and sense kindness/not so goodness on a level that I can't in the US. All my feelings are so much deeper and richer than before. I feel like I am finally alive again. And I am so glad to be here on my own. I'm able to experience things to the fullness, and to be free.

In NY I was so preoccupied and busy with thinking, planning, executing. I lost myself and lost being in tune with my heart. I feel like this place has opened me up again. I am constantly feeling so many different emotions and feelings. My senses are also heightened. I think a part of me has gone into animal mode since my language skills are limited and I'm in a foreign country, I have to trust observation, sense, and instincts so much more. I follow my heart here, I embrace my feelings. I had stopped crying for the last 4 years. It was like a faucet just turned off and dry. But here, I'm able to release and really feel things. I'm constantly moved by so many things in a day. I can't even describe this in words.

I feel like I've found a home I didn't know I was searching for. I feel like I've been wandering in my life trying to fulfill myself with temporary amusements or things that weren't enriching. But being here, I feel like I am finally home.

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I am constantly falling in love here. With moments, with others, with myself. Every minute I am feeling something. Despite its barreness and simplicity, Tashkent has been so full of everything for me. I have never felt so fulfilled. To me, it is the most romantic place in the world. I am already scared to leave. I know these feelings may never come again. Everything has aligned and collided just perfectly. I feel like if I even move one step, everything will change.

Happy ending

What started out as a rough day ended with happiness.

After work I felt a little down. I decided to go to one of my favorite Korean restaurants and have a quiet dinner. I ambitiously decided I knew Tashkent well enough to walk there. Well, I made it about half way there. I asked some people where Grand Mir hotel was (the restaurant is right next door) and I was surprised to find many didn't know. It is because they changed the name, and most locals are not in the know-how of these updated foreigner places.

I then asked a babushka (grandmother) who was so kind. She said she was walking towards that way and to follow her. I can't say I understand every word, but somehow I've learned to understand a little more and get the gist of things. We crossed the street together, all the time she looked over her shoulder to make sure I was safe. Machina Machina (car car) she said when I was walking too close to an oncoming car.

She was going to help me get on the bus and I was going to embark on this adventure if we were on the same one. But she said she lived far away and would be sending me on my own. I decided to just jump in a cab and go.

Luck will have it that I found a go-ryo-in cab driver. We began conversing and I asked him where the Korean stores were. He showed me and dropped me off, as it wasn't far from where I had to go. I began walking towards my restaurant and found another Korean restaurant on the way called "Grandma's place", or hal-mae-jib.

Well, I went in and was greeted by a very sweet go-ryo-in debushka. In the first room I sat in there were a couple Komars, or mosquitos (amazing which words you learn when you are in a foreign country). I switched to another room. Not only did I see a dead bug under one of the chairs, the plastic covering on the table felt sticky. I am not always neat but I am a germ/clean freak. Grin and bear it, it's a new experience I told myself.

The food was good but I was happy to get out. Whenever anything is dirty I get goose bumps and feel absolutely gross. I decided to have one more adventure before going home. I had heard about the President's daughter's restaurant which flies in cheesecake daily from Moscow. I had been meaning to check it out and decided today would be the day.

After ordering a chocolate cheesecake and wolfing it down, I hailed a cab. The car seemed to be driving fast and I told myself I wouldn't get in. But when the driver pulled up he looked like a decent enough person so I got in. (I wish good judgement with taxi drivers could form some sort of business for me by the way). We began to converse, the normal questions came up. This time I said I was from Korea, that I now live in Tashkent, and that my husband works here. He said he actually isn't a taxi driver and was on his way back from work, but did this unofficially when he was free. I really respect this. It is tough to get by here, and it seems so in tandem with the "sure, why not?" culture here. We chatted some more, and when I told him how kind I found the people here he seemed to really take it to heart. There is such great pride here and a strong sense of identity. When he dropped me off I asked how much. He refused to accept. He said he was on his way home and that it was his pleasure.

It's amazing what can happen in Tashkent.

Guilty as charged.

I just made a huge mistake.

So from Samarqand I brought back some bread for both Masturaba and my co-workers. Given we have clients coming in tomorrow, I started cleaning up a little. I figured after being out for 2 days, the bread would spoil, and it wouldn't look nice being out.

I threw it away and the whole office jumped. Basically, you cannot throw bread away here, it's considered incredibly precious. It's almost akin to killing someone. They have great respect for bread. It is served at the beginning of every meal, and during the war people were desperate and begging for just a piece of bread. I genuinely committed a really big offense. I told them to please tell me these types of things, b/c I don't want to make any big mistakes while I am here.

So last night I went to Caravan with Tri, from Ilkhom theater. We sat on the tapchang outside and had Uzbek food. While I was there I also checked out the restaurant next door, Izumi. A stunningly modern Japanese place that made you feel like you were in NY rather than Tashkent.

It's begun.

I'm not sure what it is, but today I am feeling incredibly sad.

I am slowly beginning to prepare for my return. Frustration with problems with logging into my upenn account, changing my plane ticket, and slowly having to prepare for the reality that awaits.

I woke up really tired and called my co-worker to tell him I'd be about an hour late. Yesterday was Mokhir's last day. I am not sure if it is because of the emptiness of his place that the mood was different, but when I walked in the office was unusually quiet and the whole place felt sad. I think they felt really sad to no longer have him here. But this combined with my already sad mood just made it worse.

Last Thursday I went to the American Embassy's 4th of July party. The embassy was gorgeous, security was tight. When I went through the sensor they said they had to take away my phone.

In the US I'm dependent on internet, but here I feel vulnerable without my phone. It's my main conduit for safety, communication. I had a look of panic and fear on my face, they said they would return it to me later. I said, you promise? The stern security guards dressed in green broke into smiles and said, yes, we promise.

There was a dance show and buffet lines of food. I made a small attempt to speak with 2 other expat women, but realizing they had been here for a while and weren't interested in making new friends with me, I decided to give up on being social. I quickly ate my meal quietly and suddenly felt like going to Chun-gi-wa.

It had been a while since I saw the owner and Svetlana. They were sitting with some guests. Oddly, they had me sent to the private room to eat.

I ordered my kimchi jigae (oddly, I crave Korean food pretty often here) and Svetlana came in. My number had been deleted and she had been waiting for me to call. I, on the otherhand, had figured something had happened and didn't want to bother her, so I didn't call. It was so nice to be so open about a personal misunderstanding and resolve it in a foreign country.

The owner came in later. He said I should hurry up and find a man and get married. I said no, then I'll have a headache. He said, you must've had experience. I said I don't know. He said when? I said I don't know. He said don't play innocent. I said it's not that, the past is in the past, you're not supposed to talk of such personal things so freely. He then said it's natural for a woman and man to feel something, but women being women will hold back, whereas men wont. I asked why, but then said you know what, I don't need to know such details. I should've realized at this point that something was different.

Some of his friends stopped into say hi to him. Thing is, these friends look like hard core gangsters. I know they play cards in one of the private rooms until late in the evening, but just a simple glance scared the lights out of me. One of them took one step in the room and the owner made a noise, basically saying don't you dare come in. It was nice.

It was time to go home and I asked Svetlana to help me get a cab. He said he would drop me off. I assumed his driver would take us, but he hailed a cab and took me back. Oddly, when we got to my hotel he stepped out of the cab. I stood and said well thank you for bringing me. He said I thought we could have tea. I said I"m sorry, I have an early morning.

A while later it hit me. So I guess "tea" is code for something else with Asian men. And what began as friendly hang outs with Svetlana and the owner, had now turned to something else. He felt something. And I can't say when I first met him I didn't either.

I guess the difference is when you're older, you just know. But after a little bit of drama here, I don't want any more upheaval. And not only that, I genuinely enjoy going there and hanging out with them. I like not knowing what could've been. And I like keeping them as life long friends.

But boy what a day that was.

Last night I met up with Tri, the American who is an actor at Ilkhom Theatre. When I initially gave him my contact info I thought I wouldn't hear from him. He's been here for a year and a half, has his friends. I am probably more a burden than anything since I don't know many things here. But fortunately, we've kept in touch and decided to meet up at Caravan, an upscale Uzbek restaurant I've been meaning to check out.

Over the weekend I went to Buxara and Samarqand. My co-worker Farkhad was kind enough to accompany me. The simple things I could do for myself in NY I can no longer do here. Even finding out the train schedule, buying a ticket, I cannot do on my own here. I get worried they may tell me to go to the OVIR office and register my passport, I don't know where to look for the times, not to mention the website isn't in English. He was kind enough to wake up at 5am that morning to accompany me. But something else that was unusual happened that morning.

There was one evening I was catching a cab and found the nicest taxi driver. He was an older man and very sincere. He didn't overcharge me even though I was a foreigner, which is highly unusual here. Even after he dropped me off I thought of him, that he was so nice, and that I wish I had gotten his number to be able to call next time I needed a taxi.

Well, fate will have it that that morning one of the hotel people was helping me get a cab and guess who pulled up. I couldn't believe it. I said we met before, right? This is the 2nd time? He said da, da. We had a stilted yet simple conversation, I was so overjoyed. I saw this as a good omen for the trip. But for some reason I didn't try to get his contact info again.

We took the train to Buxhara and the ride up was gorgeous. This country is hilarious, I love the sense of freedom and the way people live by feelings/instinct. You would see horses, trees, and cows on the way. Then suddenly a random bed. A lot of people sleep outside, and there was no care about social norms or normalcy. Just heck, it's nice out, I'll put a bed out and sleep there. With the cows and horses around, under a tree.

There were also the most adorable children outside. The image of 4 young children standing outside and waving to us on the train. I remember what it was like, being so excited every time a train or plane would go by, feeling curious where it was going, hoping someone would see me wave and wave back. The hopes, dreams. There was something so touching about it.

I was so in awe of all the cows and donkeys I got to see while we were driving. There was something so nice and natural of driving along and then randomly seeing donkeys and cows just do their thing.

In Buxhara, we first went to a Soviet Korean restaurant. It was in complete traditional Uzbek style and run by a Go-ryo-in. The food was a mixture of Chinese, Korean, and Uzbek food, and surprisingly they had just opened up another restaurant called "Ariran", which was actually written in Korean.

We went to a bunch of souvenier shops, but what was disappointing was you could see the tourist influences in the place. A lot was written in English, you could feel how much the area was beginning to cater to the tourists. I realized, in a way, tourism actually takes away the culture in these places.

There is a small group of Buxaran jews remaining and the remains of their Synagogue. On our search to find the place, we asked a group of 3 men outside their home where it was. They spoke in perfect Uzbek, wearing the Uzbek skull hats. But something about the way the eldest man spoke mesmerized me. He spoke in a very polite way, but there was something controlled about him, as though he couldn't express himself too freely, or show himself too much. They also looked slightly different from the local Uzbeks. I realized these were actual Buxaran Jews we stumbled across. It was amazing how they carried so much history in the way they carried themselves. I couldn't believe I actually had met some Buxaran Jews.

I ended up buying a local style jacket. It's traditional ware but the one I liked most and the one I could fit into was actually for a little boy. I hope I do wear it when I get back, but most likely I'll throw it on with a pair of jeans.

We also went to Labi house, Kalon Minor, Ark then back to Labi house where we took a taxi to Navoi. On our way there I got stopped for the first time here in Uzbekistan. They asked to see all our passports. This is when I get nervous. My co-worker said some things about me being a tourist, etc. and I reached my hand out to get my passport to show him my visa, but he kind of laughed and so did everyone else. I guess it looked like I was really worried and wanted my passport back. Which was also true.

I wanted to check out Lake Aidurkul, about 75km north of Navoi. Apparently there are yurta camps there, a lake, camel trekking, and some fishing. Farkhad had a bad feeling about it and preferred not to. I said come on, let's try, there's 2 of us. The worst that happens is we end up somewhere else. I couldn't be that brave if I were travelling alone, but being with someone else gave me the courage to be adventurous and just wing it, something that has become so difficult for me to do.

I have been very sensitive to cab drivers since coming here. I don't know what it is. I can read in their eyes, their demeanor, and by sensing whether someone is okay or not. We met a very kind, genuine person as our driver. He said he needed to stop by his home to get gas. I didn't understand what this meant. We pull up to his house and he brings out a plastic canister of gasoline. Farkhad had a headache, so I requested we stop at a pharmacy and get Citramon, an awesome local headache medicine. We went to Navoi and stopped at a scary taxi stand. I was too scared to get out of the car, but fortunately, as it is a Muslim culture here, the men take care of everything. I stayed in the car while the driver and Farkhad went out to find out how we could get to Aidarkul. Negative. So we went to the nearest hotel, Hotel Navoi.

It was a huge, grand, Soviet style hotel. They had clocks with the time zones of Dubai, NY, Seoul, London. Perfect I thought. I was running low on cash, and since they had clocks I could probably exchange money. Negative.

I had read about this type of hotel in Anna Karenina and in Jim Rodgers books, but never had I officially planned to stay in one. The bathroom had dead mosquitoes all over the walls. The toilet was a rusty brown color. Not only that, the bottom of the shower floor had a thick film of black mold and soot. The bed was barely a twin mattress if at all. There was a huge outdated fan. It was a serious health hazard and worse than sleeping outside under a tree.

But this is when I realized why imagination is so important. I told myself, think back to those books. It's one night of your life, you can truly understand the feeling of the scenes in those books. Bear with it.

After walking around town for a little bit, we finally went back to our rooms. I woke up around 4am to the sound of a mosquito. After living in Ecuador my body trembles to the "zing" sound despite being fast asleep. I got up chasing this mosquito around to try to kill it. Most of the time, if you swat and move around, the mosquitos get scared away. But this was a Soviet hotel mosquito, it had survived so much worse. Despite my swatting it would still come straight at me and land. It was terrible. I think after about 45 min I finally got it and went to sleep. Only to be woken by another.

I went out on the balcony, had a smoke, and came back in. I finally got it and was so excited we'd be leaving in a few hours.

We went on to Samarqand where we first stopped at a local restaurant Bek. We have a branch in Tashkent too, and they also own Sayor, another restaurant I've been to. But better than all this, it had air conditioning. After 2 days of traveling in the heat without showering, a/c with cold drinks was the best thing in the world. We lazed around there for 2-3 hours. And unfortunately I got it again: TD. Fortunately, I had brought one immodium with me, but it didn't work well or fast enough. I couldn't say anything to my co-worker about this though!

We went on and saw Bibi Khanym's mosque, one of Timerlane's wives. Legend has it that she was Chinese (locals say Mongolian) and while Timerlane was away she decided to build it as a surprise. The architect ended up falling in love with her and left a kiss on her cheek. Timur saw this and had him quickly executed. The fruits of forbidden love.

The mosques are gorgeous all over Uzbekistan. The domes are made of this incredible turquoise like blue. I bought a bunch of souveniers there, including a painting of the Registan square. It had a lot of simple detail and felt so relaxing to look at. I realized I had become sensitive to not only taxi drivers but shop owners. If I got the sense they were aggressive or very tricky with their pricing, I just didn't bother. I also bought a plate, some tiles, postcards, and some small handcrafted boxes.

We took another car back to Tashkent in the evening. I was so happy we got this driver. He was around 70 years old and exuded an aura of serenity, peace, and wisdom. It turns out he was actually Tajik and wore a Tajik hat. He played Tajik/Uzbek folk songs in the car, I was in heaven. It's this type of feeling I love so much. I had such a good time, he said next time if I come to Samarqand I could stay at his home. That he had 15 grand children, a huge house. I told him I would love to.

Almaty, Kazakhstan

Before I knew it a week has flown by. So much happens in a day while I'm here, but will try my best to remember back.

Before she left for Iran, my friend Yuri and I hung out. We went to Quyun, a local, outdoor shashlyk place by the river for dinner. Then on our way out across the street we heard music and noticed another outdoor place. This one was called Isotqol and was beautiful. An outdoor Turkish restaurant with these beautiful red, yellow, and blue interlaced tents by the water, plus with the wonderful mix of local Uzbek and Russian music, the setting was beautiful.

One thing about Tashkent here is they have the most wonderful nights. The weather cools down and has a slight breeze, and makes for the most perfect outdoor weather.

Before she left we also club hopped a bit to try to find a place that was open on a Tuesday night. We first started off at CataKoumba where for the first time I felt harassed. There was a big guy who wouldn't leave me alone despite my repeatedly saying I had a really huge husband. While I was calling my co-worker for directions to the next place, the guy got into the taxi and started talking to the driver.

My co-workers and family have done an excellent job of instilling fear in me regarding kidnapping. Scared/worried they could be collaborating or scheming something, I called my co-worker again and asked him to speak to the driver. I told him to act really scary, lower his voice (his voice is kind of high), and say that he's my husband. He even took it one step further and told the driver that he would be waiting for me at the next destination. It's amazing how clever you become when your survival instincts kick in.

We checked out Platinum but it was empty. We went to Fashion bar but it was dead. Club 25 was closed. And we finally ended up at the Diplomat.

It's amazing. Only 2 evenings before I had been at the Diplomat and had one of the most amazing nights of my life. I think the chemistry and the stars had been perfectly aligned that night. It was so fun that it almost didn't seem it really happened. The night me and Yuri went it was completely dead. We realized it was probably because the soccer game had been on.

In the last week I also checked out an AmCham meeting. They have gatherings once a month, and this one was at the shi shi restaurant Jumanji.

I am the first to admit I am not fond of a lot of the expat thing. I had been hesitant to go, but am so glad I did.

I met some incredibly interesting and genuine people who have made Tashkent their real home. None of the upcomance or snobbery you often see with expats, but rather they have embraced it as theirs, and learned to do things the Uzbek way, which can often be counter-intuitive and frustrating to those of us from the west.

Afterwards I checked out the Irish pub where I met another wonderful family. The husband is American from Texas with the most gorgeous Uzbek wife, originally from Buxara and apparently Persian in ethnicity. Their daughter Roxanna was a hoot and holler, I couldn't stop laughing.

I ended up going with them to Alis, which turned out to be a go-ryo-in restaurant. It was similar to Casanova, the first club I accidentally ended up at. A large restaurant layout with dancing in the middle.

The next day on Saturday, I went to a session one of the expats held. Amazingly, he found an herbalist (han-ae-won) who comes from a family of 400 years of history. During the Soviet times he studied Archeology to basically go into hiding and preserve his life. He would've otherwise been persecuted for being a witch or a heretic. After Uzbekistan's independence he has come back to his family tradition. He checks your health the old traditional way which is to hold your wrist lightly. The true healers/herbalists can read all your vital signs and know exactly what is wrong with you by doing this.

Well, for me, he said I am pretty weak. That blood doesn't flow well to my lungs or heart. That I get headaches often. That I have some stomach problems. And that I have sadness.

Needless to say, I wasn't going to go into the last one. I would love to follow up with him and have more sessions, but my next weekends are likely to be filled with trying to go to Samarkand and possibly some more traveling if I can.