December 4, 2015
When I first got to the hotel in Tashkent, I noticed two things: the ATM didn't have any money in it (because nobody uses it), and there was an exchange office in the hotel lobby. As is usually the case when I travel abroad, I wanted to use the ATM rather than an exchange office, because I've been ripped off by several exchange offices because of their terrible rates or commission. It seems like ATMs generally are safer bets. But since the ATM didn't have any money in it, I had no choice. The exchange office had two employees, though I never saw anyone exchange money there...another sign that the rate would be bad, otherwise how could they pay the two employees? I checked the online exchange rate and to my surprise, the rate offered by the exchange office was basically the same as the "market" rate, so I felt more comfortable with it. I gave them $60 and they gave me two full stacks of 1000 som bills with a rubber band around them. It was the first time I ever carried money in a rubber band! I couldn't even figure out how to carry this money because it wouldn't fit in my pockets, let alone my wallet. I tried stuffing them in my front pockets, but they stuck out like I was Richie Rich. I felt like a 6 year old boy who just got his first allowance. I wanted to take a picture with my bank roll, and then to immediately spend it because it was so fun to show off. Little did I know that this "market" rate I got in the hotel was actually half the rate that you can get from the street. I assumed the ATM would be a better rate, but I was wrong.
The situation with the money is one of many fascinating experiences I had on my trip to Tashkent, Uzbekistan (ask me if you want to know more about how to exchange money there). Not only did I learn how to quickly count my large stacks of money (and that they actually bring money in a bag when making large purchases), but I also learned more about the Central Asian history, and fell in love with the traditions surrounding their national food, plov.
My journey to Tashkent went through Moscow, where I met up with Inna, my co-worker that was assigned to the project in Tashkent with me. We had never met, but spent some time on the phone preparing for the site visit. We agreed to spend the weekend in Tashkent in order to see some of the sights. It was good for me to have her company because to tour around Uzbekistan generally requires someone who speaks Russian.
Like any flight to an "exotic" place, the etiquette on the plane wasn't exactly what I'm used to. The guy next to me seemed friendly, and even overly so. He kept touching my iPad screen while I was watching a movie. I think he was trying to tell me that he enjoyed "Foxcather", but he didn't need to keep touching it. Especially since his fingernails were filled with brown gunk. The moment the plane landed (while still taxiing at a decent speed), half of the plane stood up to get their bags from the overhead bins. I was too tired to worry, but noticed that either the flight attendants didn't care, or the passengers didn't care that the flight attendants told them to remain seated. It was really late, clearing customs around 3am. But the PwC driver still picked us up....can someone please nominate him for employee of the month?
A few years ago I met a guy from work who lived in Tashkent. He doesn't live there anymore, but he introduced us virtually to one of his friends, Diyora. Diyora was awesome and offered to take us around the city on our first day there. She spoke perfect English, Russian and Uzbek, and was the perfect guide. We visited the various markets and monuments, she showed us how to take a taxi from the street where you just wave down a car (old fashioned Uber), and introduced us to our first Uzbek meal - norin. Norin is a salty noodle dish with horse meat. It was actually pretty good, except after a while, it became too salty for me. Or maybe too horsey. I laughed when I typed it in my phone and it auto-corrected as "boring". It certainly was not boring.
After Diyora left us to go to a wedding, we realized we were pretty worthless. It almost seemed as if a higher power was trying to show us how to be terrible tourists. The wifi in our hotel stopped working so we couldn't check things on the internet, so we decided to use a paper map to try to get around. When we got to the TV Tower, it started raining and was super foggy, which would make going up the tower a waste of time, so we asked the driver to take us somewhere else. He suggested a museum, but when we got there it was closed. We drove in several circles while deciding what to do next, changing our mind a couple times and forcing him to make several U-turns. I'm sure he loved that. He drove us to yet another museum, which looked open, but was being guarded by police. We ran through the rain to the door, but it was also closed. Apparently the president was going there in the evening so it was closed to the public. I wanted a picture of the site where the president would be in a short while, then was promptly yelled at by the police for taking one. We ran through the rain again to find a metro entrance (the taxi left us), but didn't know where to go. My phone wasn't connecting to 3G, so we couldn't look anything up. We got into the underground and had an idea but needed to call someone to figure out exactly how to get there. But in order to use the phone, I needed to go outside of the metro station again. Of course this meant I'd have to pay for another ride to go out and re-enter. As we contemplated our next move, I took another picture of the metro platform, but got yelled at again by the security, and they forced me to delete it. They take security very seriously because apparently there were a couple terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists in the early 2000s (seriously). We noticed later at the airport and on the long distance trains they have security checks outside, inside and before boarding. It's a bit of a hassle, but it was quick and was nice for both safety and if you needed assistance with anything.
We finally got off the subway, at a big shopping center; the only thing we could think of that was both open and indoors. When we got out of the metro we saw that we were right back where we started: at the TV Tower. After an hour of bowling and air hockey (the only success we had without Diyora), we tried to get to a restaurant that a friend recommended. But of course, the taxi drove past it 5 times without seeing it, until a security guard told us it was permanently closed. So we ended up at another restaurant where we ate greasy, fatty soup and kebab. Not a very satisfying end to the evening. To top it all off, the taxi driver who took us home didn't know how to get to our hotel, so we got lost. We agreed then not go to anywhere in Uzbekistan without a local.
Next up, Samarkand and plov. With locals.
When I first got to the hotel in Tashkent, I noticed two things: the ATM didn't have any money in it (because nobody uses it), and there was an exchange office in the hotel lobby. As is usually the case when I travel abroad, I wanted to use the ATM rather than an exchange office, because I've been ripped off by several exchange offices because of their terrible rates or commission. It seems like ATMs generally are safer bets. But since the ATM didn't have any money in it, I had no choice. The exchange office had two employees, though I never saw anyone exchange money there...another sign that the rate would be bad, otherwise how could they pay the two employees? I checked the online exchange rate and to my surprise, the rate offered by the exchange office was basically the same as the "market" rate, so I felt more comfortable with it. I gave them $60 and they gave me two full stacks of 1000 som bills with a rubber band around them. It was the first time I ever carried money in a rubber band! I couldn't even figure out how to carry this money because it wouldn't fit in my pockets, let alone my wallet. I tried stuffing them in my front pockets, but they stuck out like I was Richie Rich. I felt like a 6 year old boy who just got his first allowance. I wanted to take a picture with my bank roll, and then to immediately spend it because it was so fun to show off. Little did I know that this "market" rate I got in the hotel was actually half the rate that you can get from the street. I assumed the ATM would be a better rate, but I was wrong.
I'm so rich!
The situation with the money is one of many fascinating experiences I had on my trip to Tashkent, Uzbekistan (ask me if you want to know more about how to exchange money there). Not only did I learn how to quickly count my large stacks of money (and that they actually bring money in a bag when making large purchases), but I also learned more about the Central Asian history, and fell in love with the traditions surrounding their national food, plov.
When you have so much money, it's hard to count it #99problems
Like any flight to an "exotic" place, the etiquette on the plane wasn't exactly what I'm used to. The guy next to me seemed friendly, and even overly so. He kept touching my iPad screen while I was watching a movie. I think he was trying to tell me that he enjoyed "Foxcather", but he didn't need to keep touching it. Especially since his fingernails were filled with brown gunk. The moment the plane landed (while still taxiing at a decent speed), half of the plane stood up to get their bags from the overhead bins. I was too tired to worry, but noticed that either the flight attendants didn't care, or the passengers didn't care that the flight attendants told them to remain seated. It was really late, clearing customs around 3am. But the PwC driver still picked us up....can someone please nominate him for employee of the month?
Looks like Irish to me
I loved walking around the meat market
Norin, both salty and horsey
I don't want to know what this is
After Diyora left us to go to a wedding, we realized we were pretty worthless. It almost seemed as if a higher power was trying to show us how to be terrible tourists. The wifi in our hotel stopped working so we couldn't check things on the internet, so we decided to use a paper map to try to get around. When we got to the TV Tower, it started raining and was super foggy, which would make going up the tower a waste of time, so we asked the driver to take us somewhere else. He suggested a museum, but when we got there it was closed. We drove in several circles while deciding what to do next, changing our mind a couple times and forcing him to make several U-turns. I'm sure he loved that. He drove us to yet another museum, which looked open, but was being guarded by police. We ran through the rain to the door, but it was also closed. Apparently the president was going there in the evening so it was closed to the public. I wanted a picture of the site where the president would be in a short while, then was promptly yelled at by the police for taking one. We ran through the rain again to find a metro entrance (the taxi left us), but didn't know where to go. My phone wasn't connecting to 3G, so we couldn't look anything up. We got into the underground and had an idea but needed to call someone to figure out exactly how to get there. But in order to use the phone, I needed to go outside of the metro station again. Of course this meant I'd have to pay for another ride to go out and re-enter. As we contemplated our next move, I took another picture of the metro platform, but got yelled at again by the security, and they forced me to delete it. They take security very seriously because apparently there were a couple terrorist attacks by Muslim extremists in the early 2000s (seriously). We noticed later at the airport and on the long distance trains they have security checks outside, inside and before boarding. It's a bit of a hassle, but it was quick and was nice for both safety and if you needed assistance with anything.
You can buy anything at the open air markets
We finally got off the subway, at a big shopping center; the only thing we could think of that was both open and indoors. When we got out of the metro we saw that we were right back where we started: at the TV Tower. After an hour of bowling and air hockey (the only success we had without Diyora), we tried to get to a restaurant that a friend recommended. But of course, the taxi drove past it 5 times without seeing it, until a security guard told us it was permanently closed. So we ended up at another restaurant where we ate greasy, fatty soup and kebab. Not a very satisfying end to the evening. To top it all off, the taxi driver who took us home didn't know how to get to our hotel, so we got lost. We agreed then not go to anywhere in Uzbekistan without a local.
The metro token is plastic...it reminded me of Plinko!
Next up, Samarkand and plov. With locals.
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