Socializing in Tashkent

12mar11 

Learning Uzbek. From the start I had this feeling that I wanted to learn Uzbek instead of Russian. Especially since Russian is, in fact, the language of the Soviet supremacy, which the Uzbeks discarded in 1991 when they became independent. Last week, while visiting the arts & crafts museum, I accidentally met a nice older guy, who appeared to be co-auther of a guide about Tashkent; he also translated it from Uzbek into English. Long storys short, he is now my Uzbek teacher. Robert still considers learning Russian, as more people speak Russian than Uzbek. I find it difficult to memorize the words, that have nothing in common with the languages I know. F.e. “have a nice day” is 

Kuningiz yakhsi utsin. “My name is Yeleka”  seems more logical: Mening nomim Yeleka. Yachshimisiz: how are you? Rahmat, men yakhshiman:  thanks, I am fine.

Finding wine. On one of our reconnaissance walks we spotted a small storeshowing winebottles in the window,  in a street lined with expensive (brandnames) boutiques (f.e.: ZARA  coming soon here!).


So while Robert had  to work on some documents on saturday
morning, I set out, with map in order not to get lost. Indeed there was wine! About 2,40 euro a bottle, fine Italian wine produced in Uzbekistan. They prove a bit sweet(dolce) but are drinkable. Imported wine came from Georgia and was 24 euros a bottle. Next to the winestore was a really beautiful red woollen wintercoat for sale, which I wouldn’t mind having.       I could have it for 230 dollars, said the guy in English.
I realized it was about the same price as the delicately painted miniature we saw the day before, of the derwish reading a book in order to broaden his world - I rather prefer the miniature for my birthday then.

Making acquaintances-1. Thursday evening we were invited at Michel and Lily’s. Michel is a French freelance consultant our age, working for ‘Roberts’ project, living here for 20 years already with his Uzbek wife Lily, who speaks French(she was a teacher), Uzbek and Russian.

That evening was good to recuperate my French! And interesting! Lily’s grandparents were – with thousands of others - deported from Korea by the soviets, her mother then being 8 years old. The original idea was that they would mingle with and spy on the Japanese. Since Koreans are enemies of the Japanese they appeared to be useless to the regime, so they were dropped at one of the outer borders, in the Fergana valley of what is now Uzbekistan. Some history we never learnt about!

Making acquaintances-2. Saturday morning walking out of our apartment building, we found our English-speaking Uzbek neighbour (of the floor beneath us) cleaning the little patch of green outside. What a surprise! Robert had already thought of doing that as it looked so miserably, but obviously they were of the same mind. And as it is springtime, on march 21 they celebrate “Navrus”  here, it is time to do something about the parks and gardens. He introduced us to his father, who couldn’t speak English, he was sorry to say. But.. the guy spoke German fluently, had been a professor in Leipzig, so we developed quite a nice conversation. He then told us that one daughter was working in Singapore, as a diplomat and another one in London. And they were visiting there annually. And of course we must come and visit soon! Somehoe we felt more at home in this bloc, our Marhalla! A Marhalla is traditionally an area where the extended families live together. They celebrate deaths and births and weddings together, and are a strong social unit. When one is thrown out of, or leaves,the Marhalla, you are lost. 

To the arts& crafts fair. Lily said we must go to this fair on Sunday at the intercontinental hotel. So we took a taxi (1,50 euro, private people earning some extra money with their cars, usually standing rather ubiquitously along the roadside) to meet Lily and her daughter ther. It was like a bijenkorf warehouse grand sale: overcrowded with grabbing women, and I was one of them- such beautiful carpets, rugs, wollen or silk, and eautiful embroidery. I came home with two handmade traditionally dressed dolls, another embroidered handbag, and a very nice embroidered shirt.