The Lazy Cherub Enigma: The Tashkent Terror is No Where to be Found

What would a silk road journey be if we did not have another epic border crossing? This time it was the border from Kyrgyzstan into Uzbekistan. We had not one but TWO briefings about how this would go down. Important to know was that any codeine or Valium had to be used up in the next 24 hrs and there can be no giggling or carrying on in the customs office. We were warned many times that this process could take hours – especially if they found a bible and Ativan!! This is a serious border – two old ladies got the “glove treatment” while we were in line so it wasn’t boding well for anyone over 65… But fate was on our side that day! I think Ken, his Chinese name (Sau Yan) and his ginormous electronics and camera(s) list confused them too much to want to take us on. My worst crime – having a yoga mat. Essentially this is an indescribable item in a country where yoga is not even a concept let alone carrying a rubber grip mat in your bag. Meanwhile, our driver, Simon, had to wait with the truck as it was searched – or in reality, Simon was asked if he had any English beer or movies (not as contraband but as donations to the deprived of fun Uzbek guards). Some more time hanging about outside in “no man’s land” with crazy bomb sniffing dogs on chains and then it was done!!

New country means new “handler.” For this stage we have Rustam. He LOVES Las Vegas. LOVE LOVES LOVES Las Vegas. He thinks Las Vegas is everything that is great about the USA. He hates New York. HATES HATES HATES NYC. (I know. As if that is even possible). According to Rustam NYC has too many Russians, Jews and Uzbekistan immigrants. I think you are getting a sense of what I am up against for the next 10 days…

First stop was Fergana with a quick visit to a silk factory. I’ll be honest – silk factory was a dud for me. For one, I’ve been there done that 3 times already and the products (or lack thereof) for sale at the end were uninspiring. But what I will say was the actual loom work for fabric was astounding. That is something I had not seen before and I found the whole process fascinating. I did love the traditional patterns and natural dyes but sadly, I am not a seamstress so buying meters of fabulous Central Asian silk was not a viable option. So I just fondled it a lot with my filthy Jew hands while everyone else shopped.

Arrived in Fergana and walked into what I thought was the lobby of our hotel when it was actually a banquet hall in the throes of a massive wedding. I am sure I impressed the family, strolling in covered in dust, having not bathed for 3 days and dragging a filthy duffle bag behind me. Payback was the incessant drumming the next morning at 6 am to celebrate the consummation right under our window. Good drumming but yeah – it was overkill on the TMI scale.

Then it was two glorious days in Tashkent. What made it glorious you ask? YORKIES AND LATTES!! You know things are about to get Euro-Civilized when you see middle aged women in heels walking tiny dogs, old men carrying their cats to the park for chess AND there is a coffee shop. Tashkent has a groovy Soviet/Islam vibe. Ostentatious buildings and public green spaces abound as do tree line streets and old trolley cars. I love a city I can walk in all day (and all night) and never get bored. Where else can you see a mammoth statue of Timur the Lame astride a sensual stallion whose 8 foot appendage is always being stolen? Even better? Ride the subway! Soviet subways are right out of a Cecil B. DeMille movie set with a healthy dose of "Metropolis" thrown in for good measure. Full frontal Art Deco. No photos though. Terrorist threats are taken seriously and guards do not like shady things like photography or loitering. You need to show your passport and "papers" whenever you enter. Ken suspects that is why he had no sightings of Djamolidine Adboujaparov – the “Tashken Terror” of the Tour de France. Some cycling fan probably snapped a selfie with him on the subway platform and now they are both peddling coal carts in Siberia.

Other highlights: Chorsu Bazaar which has somehow managed to have every food imaginable selling outdoors with zero flies. The Railway Museum which somehow managed to enthral me despite its Soviet nerdiness (possibly because you can climb all over the trains and pretend you are in a Tolstoy novel.) And the Assumption Cathedral where Santa spends his off days leading some wicked Gregorian chants with Pavarotti.