How did it happen....

How did it happen...and how can one night make you remember...
The once free spirited, slightly offbeat misfit over time learning to fit a mold...
A mold I half enjoy, but doesn't express all of me...
How did it happen... that I could lose myself so completely...
I guess to survive, sometimes you have to forget the parts of you that don't fit into the square...
This normalcy, this everyday-ness.... the typical-ness... has it made me crazy all these years?
Then tonight, I find that crazy that I used to love... and I remember....
Same questions... will that old world, accept me now...
Will accepting the old world, alienate my world now...
Is it better not to remember.... and keep living like a zombie in a world that isn't fully you...
Is it worse to face the past, the old feelings...
I never thought I'd find that old world out here.... it's taken 13 years to find it again...
How am I going through this after all these years...how did I become that way...
I guess survival..
But it makes life worth living again...

Yesterday I felt off. Unsettled. Uneasy.

And for the first time in a while, so incredibly disappointed and let down. I had been so full of love coming here, but yesterday I felt so depleted and empty.

In the afternoon I went with Malika to the bazaar to get some things. We had to get a potato, and the proprietress said I'm a guest, and that it was her gift to me.

After work I wanted to be alone. I went back to one of my favorite restaurants where I sometimes chat with the owner.

But even that felt off. Something was already different.

I realized it's time to go. I had been fighting so hard to stay for a while. But I feel it. It's time.

Coming here I felt I couldn't move forward in my life without this experience. I still think it was right.

I couldn't have had this experience unless I was alone.

But being alone, I also realized how much I love having people in my life. Strangers, passerby-ers, cab drivers.
It's the moments. Those few seconds where your lives intertwine, and you share that smile or laugh.

In a sense, it's almost deeper and more enriching than lengthy conversations with close friends you've known for ever. (I wouldn't trade these for anything in the world either though - I'm just saying).

But definitely. It's the moments.

How do you describe when 2 things come together without knowing. All they know is that they want to come together.

How do you explain something that isn't rational. But life for some couldn't be without it otherwise.

And how do you capture into words something you may never say outloud.

It's been an amazing morning.

Nomads, and etc.

My time here is slowly coming to an end. Just a few days ago I was trying to stay for another year. Now I feel it is the right thing to return.

On Fri I had a hilarious day with Malika. I went to get napkins and there was a tiny stack. I said is this all that's left? She said, you know, I only put a little, because if I put a lot, X person takes a lot and when our boss asks for some there are none left.

I laughed so hard. I asked my male co-workers what they would do. They logically said they would put out all the napkins. To me this was the difference between a man and a woman, and how clever women can be. Farkhad said Malika is getting smarter and smarter, and that women are better at conserving things from what he's seen with his mom.

Malika took me to lunch at an Andijon plov place where we sat on tapchangs while we ate our meal. We also looked at the small Korean grocery stores across the street. I had some things on my mind and she said there was a fortune teller nearby, and that maybe we could go. It turns out it was an Armenian lady who reads by cards. Well, Malika was translating for me so there were certain things I couldn't answer or say. But it was an interesting and what felt to be an authentic reading. While we were waiting in the waiting room boom, Malika's mom called, and about a minute later we saw a large shadow at the door trying to make her way in. She came in with a disapproving look. I couldn't stop laughing. Her mother was so smart, it was like she has this sonic radar. I joked that wherever Malika is her mother can just sense it and find her. I told them I felt so safe, that it was like having a body guard. We went for some ice cream and then returned to the office.

Saturday night after I went to the mountains I went back to one of my favorite Korean restaurants here for dinner. The owner is the sweetest woman. We've chatted a bunch of times over the last 2 months, and she is someone I would have enjoyed conversing with and hanging out with anywhere else as well. She came into the room where I was eating and brought the cutest baby kitten ever. I have never been a fan of cats but this kitten was beautiful. The mother cat had come in as a stray. She said when it was "time" she didn't want it to mate or meet a male cat, so she would take a stick and always chase around to find the cat when it went outside. Even her husband started following suit to find the cat. But she said, just as parents can't prevent their children from going with the one they love, her beloved cat found another shop owner's cat, got "married", and was soon pregnant thereafter.

Oddly enough, before she told me which was which, I could guess 2/3 kittens genders. Even from such a small age the female acted so much differently than her brothers.

Today I went to the mountains. I originally came here to find nomads and yurts and see natural surroundings. I couldn't leave without finding my nomads.

I wasn't sure if my co-worker would oversleep, so I had a back up plan just in case. Fortunately, he showed up with our driver 40 min late and we were off.

On our way to the mountains I saw these beautiful blankets or rugs, I couldn't tell. I asked them waht they were, and I think they could tell by my voice I was genuinely intrigued. The driver drove back and it turns out they were "yo's". We have these in Korea too. The best way to describe them is an old fashioned mattress. Stuffed with real cotton (I think), a cover is then made and you put them on the floor and sleep on them. They also go on top of the tap-changs I so love here.

I had to get one though. I could envision myself rolling it out on the floor wherever I live and lying on it while watching tv or doing homework and just rolling around.

Also on our way we saw some gorgeous animals. Cows, horses, donkeys, lambs, sheep. There was a herd of sheep on our way, and the driver was kind enough to pull over. I got out of the car and frolicked with them and took as many pictures as I could. Eventually they went their way, with a small barking dog and an older man and his son following from behind.

We went to Beldersay and took a tram up to the mountains. While waiting in line I saw something so characteristic of the people here. A man had a melon under his arm randomly while waiting in line for the tram. Though it's incredibly hot right now in Tashkent due to Chilla, the mountain air was so cool and refreshing. On the top we met some nomads finally! These were Kazak nomads. To make money they allow tourists to ride their horses for a short while. I got the feisty horse who wouldn't listen. Fortunately, the owner walked with us so there weren't any problems. But I can't tell you the feeling of riding a horse on top of a mountain while looking out to all the surrounding mountains. It was completely majestic.

There was also something I am always a sucker for. While I shouldn't be surprised to find it here, I was so delighted when I did. There was a wishing tree on top of this mountain, made with torn pieces of fabric. In Japan I went to a wishing tree in a temple where you bought these beautiful wooden tablets. But here, you tied a piece of fabric to the tree and hoped for the best.

My co-worker who went with me, Kozim, was awesome. He is so good talking to people, and was able to eventually located another nomad woman who had a yurt. She too was Kazak and while she lived in a trailer just next to the yurt, she also had a turkey, 2 horses, and offered us some horse milk to drink.

We went to the Pyramid Hotel to look around, and came across another Kyrgy nomad. I took a picture with him too, and afterwards, he rode out into the mountains so fast on his horse so naturally. While I was at the hotel I also ended up buying a hat. I have a thing for hats but can never find ones I like. For some reason though I've always loved buying hats even though I never wear them.

On our way back we stopped for some Godja, a really wonderful soup to have in the summer, and one you can only get near the mountains. Made of milk, some grains, corn. I normally never drink milk, but this soup is to die for. You go to these small home kitchens on the side of the road run by local people. The proprietor and her daughter were kind enough to also offer me a taste of horse milk, which surprisingly was incredibly salty and fizzy. I also bought a bottle of homemade compote.

We went back to Tashkent and I passed out in the room. There is nothing to cure insomnia like going to the mountains or countryside.

Yesterday I got called into work and spent most of the day here. I got a lot done though so I was happy. I craved pizza again for lunch and on my way back stopped by broadway in the park to look at the paintings. There I ran into my friend's driver and we chatted a bit. I also got sick again, but this time I was glad. I could feel myself finally purging whatever had gotten me sick in the first place. The meds I had taken held back the symptoms for a few days but didn't cure it. I felt so much more relieved to finally get rid of everything. I was also so happy to see my boss' kids again. This time the little girl felt comfortable enough to let me hold her, and once again the son was quiet and peaceful in my arms.

After work I met up with a friend and had dinner at his restaurant. There was a huge tour group that came in while we were there. Strapped without his key, he had to argue his way in with the guard who yelled at us for coming so late on a Sunday night. He showed me his office which was in what looked to me like an old soviet building. On our way out we saw the guard washing his feet in the sink. It was so cute.

We walked through the park and I saw the Juliana night club and Ace, a karaoke bar run by Koreans. After a beer at the hotel bar, which was my first time seeing it, I finally wrapped up the night. One thing he said haunted me though. He said he's lived long enough to know that certain chances don't come often, that this was his last chance. I said whenever we think the door has closed, opportunities always come. Does what we believe come true, or is it that some people have more opportunities and chances than others. I don't know but I decided to try my luck last night and do something I had promised myself I wouldn't. Life has been funny here. I hope I can take these feelings, thoughts, sense of peace with me when I return.

Sick

Ugh, I'm sick.

So last night I went to a wedding. When I arrived at the wedding hall, or cafe rather, my friend was outside talking to a young Korean man and his baby. The baby was beautiful, half Uzbek half Korean. But oddly, he kept hitting and pinching. A lot of babies do this, but this one was different. He didn't smile once. There was something really angry and unsettled about him, the way he would just look straight into your eyes, and then pinch or hit. I realized later I think babies absorb their home environment. My bosses kids are adorable. But you can also tell they are so well loved. They've been given love and know how to receive love. But this one. His father was talking to my friend. Turns out he's been unemployed for a while, and been having a hard time. We didn't ask where the wife was, but it seemed odd that in the early evening he would be by himself carrying this baby around. My aunt and I have had this conversation, but I think it applies to babies and animals/pets too.

In any case, at the wedding the couple seemed really happy and something seemed to match well actually. The bride's family seemed very loving and caring, and the groom and bride looked happy together. The feeling was much nicer compared to the first wedding I went to. The groom at this one even tried to do some Uzbek dancing. My friend said he found him very immature and someone who just likes to play. I argued that I thought it was beautiful. He was making an effort to dance the Uzbek way, to assimilate and understand his wife's culture, and that if each just made some considerate effort that way, could be very happy together in my opinion. There was one more tiff about leaving me alone in the room for so long, but I still had a great time.

Afterwards, I went to Jumanji with my friend. Jumanji's this upscale foreigner type restaurant here that has a mix of Asian, European and Uzbek food. The setting is beautiful as we sat outside. The trees had lights on them, and they strung lights on top of the outdoor setting.

And somehow, in the midst of a heavy conversation, I got really sick and had to run to the bathroom. At that moment it was probably a good thing, but wow, I can't believe this is probably the 4th time I've gotten sick now.

After walking in the night breeze, we finally hailed a cab and I headed back.

Last Saturday I went to "Gulyuk Bazaar", an outdoor bazaar with many Go-ryo-ins. I've wanted to go here for a while, and decided to finally just find my way. I chatted with some Go-ryo-ins there as I realized the older generation still speaks some Korean. I guess it's the same with us in the US. I can still speak some because I've learned from my parents, but there's a much smaller liklihood my children will speak.

There was the cutest grandmother there who still spoke old Chosun Korean, just like my grandmother. She told me to watch my bag because the bazaar was "gga-deuk-ha-da" of pickpocketers. She was so adorable. I gave her my number and said we should have dinner. But she lives in the countryside and goes home after work with all the stuff she sells. I will try to visit her again next week if I can.

And after some bargaining and finger pointing, I managed to buy some fruit.

Afterwards, I met my co-worker and friend, Farkhad, and we went to the painter's son's place. The paintings were amazing. Each one conveyed a different emotion and feeling. Also, the color sense was amazing. He told us that he is going to open an exhibition this fall, and will then sell his paintings afterwards. I am so dying to go, but school will be in session. We're thinking of having my mom go, but there's some controversy at home about the paintings. I may come back in the winter time then if I can.

After we saw the paintings, we went for ice cream. It was so funny because Farkhad said I remember getting this ice cream with my mom during Soviet times. It amazes me how this generation here has witnessed and experienced the change of times. We went grocery shopping and I asked what this and that was. I wanted to try a lot of local snacks and stuff. He would point to one and say that this was common during Soviet times, it was eaten for breakfast, etc. And afterwards, we took our food, got some beer, and sat on top of the rim of the fountain.

I just realized I had already written about this, but there is no harm in keeping memories alive by writing things again.

on Sunday after church, I decided to check out the Muqimi theater. Ironically, it was closed, but right across from a park I had been wanting to check out but couldn't figure out where it was. The Alisher Navoi park is gorgeous with this huge awning at the entry way, and pools of water. There is also a small type of Disneyland attached to the park where the locals go. But even more adorably, you see kids "swimming" and splashing around in the water and fountains. I took a walk and I saw some fruit trees on my way. I also came upon a gorgeous statue. I am still amazed by the statues and architecture here. On the ceilings of the domes are the most intricate designs. I walked a little further and came across what to me looked like a small temple. Even this temple, every panel of wood had an intricate carving. And once again, I saw the flower design that must've come down the silk road, as I've seen this flower design on a lot of columns in Korea as well.

There was a guy sleeping without his shirt on in a chair. Apparently it was an art gallery and it was closed. I don't know if it was my broken Russian, his sincere kindness, or my eager desire to see inside, but he let me in even though it was closed.

The gallery was breathtaking. The paintings were gorgeous. There were rugs, some ceramics, a wide array of paintings, but best of all, a tap chang.

I want to buy a tap chang so badly. This is the one limitation of my moving around and living on the east coast. Even if I got one I'd have no place to put one. I was thinking of getting one for my parents house, but I don't even know how those things get shipped. Maybe one day later if I have my own home I would get such a thing. I was telling a friend how I'd love to build one room like a yurt and put a tap chang in there.

In any case, a person who I think may have been a guide or somehow associated with the gallery came in and we walked around the park. He took some pictures of me at the statue, and picked some thing off a tree which I still don't know what it is. Tomatoes? Little fruits? I've been letting them ripen in my hotel room before I try them.

I then went to the cafe in the park and sat on a tap chang and had a cool iced tea. It was so HOT that day when I walked in the park.

Today for some reason things have cooled off. It almost looks like it's going to rain?

"If I see you I miss you, if I don't see you I miss you."

Life is short
Forgive quickly
Kiss slowly
Love truly
Laugh uncontrollably
And never regret anything that made you smile.

So this is the big debate I haven't solved. Do you live and go for things, even if you know they'll hurt or make things harder later? Or do you live with caution and wisdom.

Sunday I decided to try going to a go-ryo-in church. To my luck, the cab driver I caught happened to know where it is in the Sergily district. I'm completely supportive of any religion. I think faith and belief are good components of one's life. But, there's one thing that makes me really hesitant about Korean churches. They sometimes are a little too dramatic for me to be honest. Maybe it is passion, but for some reason I get uncomfortable with the displays of emotion when I go.

The odd thing was when I went to this church, it was clear to me many Korean pastors, missionaries, etc must've passed through this church. The way they praised, sang, cried their hearts out, etc. I felt like I was in a Korean church in the US. The sermon and praise songs were in Russian, the young Go-ryo-in kids had even made a hip hop type dance to some of the songs. And despite not understanding except a few words, it was really nice to go.

I also couldn't help notice that there were so many grandmothers, but very few men. And the few who I saw, I kept wondering if he could be our family member. I wanted to ask what their last names were, etc. but unfortunately, I still didn't have the info at this point.

Afterwards I was debating how to get home and I saw a grandmother sitting on a chair. I started talking to her. She asked if I had eaten? I said no. She said, you have to eat, we have to feed you, let's hold hands and go. I sat with her and some others, and once again, she spoke Chosun Korean. I am still amazed when I encounter the older generation who can still remember Korean well enough to speak. They were essentially the 2nd generation born here, so the equivalent to what I am in the US.

I sat with her, and afterwards she brought me with her to her - what I think was - bible study. A bunch of Go-ryo-in grandmothers gathered around the table, sung songs in Russian. There was a sense of serenity to it.

On the way to bible study she told me her daughter had died this past May in an auto accident. I felt terrible. I said you must be so "seul-puh" (sad) and she said she was so seul-puh. I felt so sad to see that no matter where you went, there were always these types of things.

In any case, afterwards I caught a ride with her. Her son in law is Uzbek but incredibly kind. When they got to their home, they put me in a cab, paid for it, and sent me safely back to my hotel.

At night I met Sveta and her husband for dinner. We went for Turkish food. They are the nicest Go-ryo-in couple I've seen yet, and seem so good together. Afterwards she and I went to opera cafe at the Dedeman Hotel for dessert.

The next night I checked out a restaurant I've been meaning to see, Manas Art Cafe. They're air-conditioned yurts and have Kyrgi and European food. A man was singing on the karaoke machine, to which they charge a "music" fee, but all the songs fit my mood at the time.

Afterwards I stopped by one of the Korean restaurants I go to often. After hanging out for a bit, the owner got a call to stop by a friend's place. He took me with him and guess what it was. A karaoke bar.

Korean karaoke bars outside the US aren't what people back home envision them to be. I shouldn't say all, but at least here, karaoke bars are places you can sing, drink, but also get girls. In a sense, I guess they are the equivalent to room salons, but you have to be fairly developed to have tiered levels of karaoke places, and then room salons.

I've never been to one but I was curious. The rooms were gorgeous, the whole setting was gorgeous actually. We had some beer, snacks, and they forced me to sing.

I love music, but I don't sing. I have terrible stage fright, and I absolutely hate singing in front of people. But I believe singing in general is cathartic. It's just not me. So in a whisper where I think it was more painful for them to sit through then for me to sing, I had to appease them and get one song over with.

It was pretty fun though I have to say.

Yesterday after a late night at work, I went out for a little again. I was supposed to go for a late dinner with the owner when he suddenly got a call that 40 people were coming to the restaurant. Well, guess who filled in. I realized to do service type of jobs like that you have to also have a certain personality. I kept shyly hiding in the room, when I asked people if they needed anything I think they could barely hear me, and I felt too bashful to go too close to their table and clear away plates. Fortunately, this was a really nice group of young people. Apparently they were supposed to go to Kazakhstan to perform for a festival but got stuck in Tashkent for the night. Well mannered, polite, it was really pleasant having all of them there at once. I filled a couple water jugs, got some glasses, asked for some extra dishes. But I was honestly too shy to do much.

After everyone left Sveta, the owner and I ate a late meal. The food tasted really good at that point. But I think it was partly also being able to eat with people I felt comfortable with again. Lunch is always casual, but there's something I love and appreciate about having dinner with close friends. Even in NY this is sometimes a luxury.

I probably shouldn't write this. In any case, I tried crashing but couldn't sleep. I got up to write some postcards which I had been meaning to do, and I saw I had a missed call from just a few min before. I guess you'd have to know the background to understand why the conversation made me sad. In any case, at the moment, I wonder if I could really be happy just staying and living life here. Would it be temporary, would it wear off? Or is it really me I wonder.

Things are looking up again

So after a few dismal days of politics which I abhor but somehow seem to come across wherever I go, things are looking up again.

Last night I had an amazingly fun dinner with Nina at Dar. She's from Slovenia, and we both met through the industry. Dar's this beautiful outdoor place in the restaurant, and we had the kind of conversation only 2 women could have. After we came back we stood on the corner outside her hotel having a few last words before I crossed the street. Cars kept stopping and we'd shoo them away. She was like, so many cars never stop like this, we must be popular. I quickly realized what it was. 2 women late at night on a street corner in Tashkent.... isn't very common. And it was probably obvious we were foreigners. She joked, I wonder if we'd get the foreigner premium for this one (foreigner premium referring to how we always pay more for cabs, etc)

This morning I woke up earlier than expected and decided to fulfill my own adventures again. I finally went to Qulyuk bazaar which I'd been meaning to go to all summer. This is a bazaar where many Go-ryo-in's have shop at. I first came across a Go-ryo-in selling some kuksu and other things. She spoke some Korean and we chatted. Then I went to another stand in the back where there was the cutest grandma ever. She reminded me so much of mine. I spoke with her and was completely floored. So in North Korea the dialect and slang is slightly different. My cousins sometimes don't understand what my grandmother says because of this (they grew up in Seoul, and my grandmother still speaks in the North Korean dialect). This grandmother also spoke in the North Korean dialect. I quickly realized the older generations still spoke some Korean and had some remnants left from their parents. They told me they kept it alive by also speaking with each other, because after all, they are "chosun-saram". She was so adorable and warned me about watching my bag because the bazaar was "ga-deuk-ha-da" of pick pocketers. I felt like she was part of my own family. I left my phone number for both of them and sincerely hope I meet with them again.

After some trouble getting back, I met Farkhad for my next excursion. Somehow amidst my time here I managed to track down the painter's son. He was kind enough to let us come to see some of his father's works. Pictures may tell a thousand words, but there is nothing like seeing beautiful paintings live. In my opinion, his father was a true genius. Every painting you see conveys a different emotion and feeling. You simply look and it evokes something. His color scheme, imagination, range of painting. And each one told the story and history of all the suffering, death, dislocation, abandonment, fear, nostalgia, that even if we try to imagine we could never know. I don't know that our time can produce this type of painters anymore. Well, rather than say any, maybe that it's growing rarer and rarer. It was the rare and trying circumstances that all happened one after another that he could understand all this and paint. His son was the most sincere, gentle person I've met in a long time. I asked what his father was like, whether he was quiet. He said yes, that he just painted a lot. Apparently he had 4 sons but ironically, 7 grand-daughters. A bit of history about this painter. He lost his parents early on, his sister died of malaria, and he couldn't financially support his grandmother so he sent her to Kazakhstan for a while. Trying to gather enough money to bring her back, she ended up dying alone during this time. In Korea there is sometimes a superstition or saying that some people don't have sons or women/men in their lives. I'm not a fortune teller, but it made me wonder whether this painter in a way did not have the type of fate to have women close to him in his life or for very long. Apparently all 4 sons paint, which was touching, but in a way didn't surprise me too. That type of rare talent is something you're born with. No matter how much you learn and refine and study and draw, you have it or you don't. This man so had it.

They are planning an exhibition in September and after that will begin to sell some of his paintings. I am selfishly hoping it gets delayed again (it depends on the gallery's schedule, and in Uz a lot of things get delayed), and am hoping it gets pushed back until December/January. If this is the case I would seriously come back for these paintings.

If I was given a choice between buying some paintings or a car, I would chose the paintings. It was this same way with music when I played. Most songs I was indifferent to or didn't like, but the few I loved I had to play, and I played them well. And I guess with art, I love seeing paintings in general, but very few capture me that way, and when they do I have to have them. Whether a republic, or in this case, the actual thing.

Amazingly, he also gave me a book about his father's life story. In it are a lot of his father's works, as well as poems he wrote about each painting translated in both Russian and Korean. It was the most perfect souvenier and memory of Uzbekistan.

After this we went to get some cold water and then ice cream. Farkhad said he remembered getting this ice cream during soviet times. It's so interesting that this generation here has witnessed soviet to post-soviet times, the independence of a nation. I guess in America we may be about to witness our first black or female president, but it's nothing to the same degree and magnitude in my opinion.

After this we went to a Korean restaurant I hadn't been to, Kim Sak-Kan. We lazed around there for a while and eventually wandered out. We ended up walking to the upscale grocery store - Mir I think - near Alisher Navoi theater, and bought some random snacks, drinks, toiletries, etc. Then we sat at the fountain at the Navoi Theater and drank beer. This may sound like some random thing but in NY if you're caught in the street, outside, or at some public place with beer you're done. I kicked off my shoes and stuck my feet in the fountain the way the guy next to me did. It was just so nice sitting on the fountain edge, feet in water, drinking beer, eating chips, and just talking.

Tomorrow morning I am hoping to get up to try to go to a "Ko-Ryo-In" church in the Selonziy district. We'll see. I also hope to make it to the Muqimi theater and meet up with Tri.

My spirits were lifted for the first time in a while, though I guess I've only had a few bad days here. But it's relative. A bad day in Tashkent is like 2 bad months in NY for me. In any case, I felt so uplifted I went ahead and booked my labor day weekend trip. Hopefully the weather will hold and the schedule will work out, but I'm not going to worry about it for now.

Hopefully my Tashkent is working its magic again. I hope my final wish can still come true.