Tashkent Express

Posted by roamingreto on 11 Apr 2008 in Kazakhstan, Russia, Uzbekistan | 7 comments

The last day in Moscow started uneventful. In the morning, I did some shopping for the four day journey on the train and stocked some fruit and cup noodles. For lunch, I went back to the hostel where two roommates, Jeremie and Mark, were hanging out with two Canadian girls from the other dorm. We all decided to visit the city, since everyone was somehow preparing to leave either into the direction of Mongolia or Europe.
This turned out to be an unexpectedly funny day where we finished hanging out like the Russians do: We got a couple of beers and settled in a park and spend most of the time chatting, joking and watching people.

After that, I went a bit dizzy to the station to catch the train bound for Tashkent (Uzbekistan) due to leave a quarter to midnight. There, I stocked up some water and a bottle of three litres of beer for the trip. Not that I needed the alcohol, but I knew from other travel reports, that drinking Vodka on the train is quite common and I wanted to “bring in” some kind of token for a potential party. As it turned out, I was quite right about this.

Upon approaching the train’s platform, there was some shouting going on and at least a dozen train officials were running into my direction. As it turned out later, this was a thief who tried to mug a “Provodnitsa” (train assistant). But at that moment, I had flashbacks to riots in which I got stuck back in Brazzaville (Congo). It was the same noise, the same shouting and the same sudden rush of a crowd. Needless to say that my adrenaline was high and for a second I had some doubts whether I was doing the right thing here.

However, I continued to walk on the platform and went on along the carriages to look for coach eight – which was my coach. The provodnitsa asked me from which country I came from and looked first at my ticket, then let me enter the car. After putting down the bags in the empty four-bed compartment, I decided that I needed some air and went out on the platform to take some pictures and wander around – always having an eye on who entered or left the carriage. Suddenly a big fat guy in uniform was grabbing me on the shoulder and pointed me to my carriage. There I could see the horrified provodnitsa who went into a big Russian talk and making gestures telling me to go immediately back to the car. Later, I found out that there is a lot of stealing going on and she simply wanted me to watch my belongings and therefore did not want me to stay on the platform. Actually this uneventful story (to me at least) became sort of running gag among the other passengers on the train who were in sheer disbelief that I would have so much confidence in the Russian railways and thus leave my bags unattended.

After the train’s departure, the provodnitsa was worried about my safety and therefore she put me in a compartment with a 27 year old Uzbek, Timur, who was travelling home after an extended period away. He spent part of his childhood in the U.S. and therefore we had no problems to make conversation. Timur was the only person speaking English in our car (and probably in the whole train). He introduced me to people, translated stories and jokes, gave me hints for Uzbekistand, chased the salespeople away from our compartment and ordered some Uzbek meals to our compartment. Moreover, he helped me to fill in the various customs forms along the route which all are in Russian only and he helped to ease customs control. Last but not least, he organized a Taxi for me upon arrival at Tashkent and gave instructions to the driver to drive me only to cheap hotels – in case my hotel would be fully booked.

Timur also intoduced me to Sergej, who was a sailor for the Russian marine, then based in Murmansk, Russia. He told short stories and jokes. And on the third night, the three of us would start drinking vodka. During that, Sergej explained how they would smuggle alcohol on board a ship (where drinking was forbidden). They used seringes to inject vodka into melons or other fruit. Or they would extract alcohol from glue or shoe polish. I don’t post the recipes here to make the story short.

By the third and fourth day of the trip, everyone had become somehow friend with every other passenger. And Timur was quite amused how the other people were in disbelief about me roaming the world for a full year, alone – not being married nor having children. Tourists aren’t very common on this route. My provodnitsa told that I am her fifth tourist this year – on her twelvth trips so far in 2008. She met a French couple some weeks ago and was consequently reiterating the few words she learned from them. She also exchanged some videos between her mobile phone and mine. Actually, exchanging videos or ringtones over Bluetooth is quite common and I now have a nice collection of Russian and Uzbek songs and video clips on my phone.

It would be an understatement to say that I was just lucky in many respects during this journey. Our car was by far the funniest one and time flew as we crossed Russia and the Kazakh steppe. When I went for a visit to see in reality the “Platzkartny” cars (3rd class), I had to transit a lot of other cars. All of them were quiet and people were either dozing or reading. Our car was full of card playing, joke telling, a bit of beer or vodka drinking people who were absolutely nice. Thanks to my “cool” provodnitsa and Timur, this train ride will be an unforgettable memory.

There are some more stories in my paper diary which covers the trip more in detail. Space is limited here and to be honest – I don’t want to spend too much time in Internet cafes. As by the writing of this, I have arrived in Tashkent and decided to extend my stay here for one day. I miss a bit the fun of the train, Timur, Sergej and my cool provodnitsa – but I got – in exchange for them – a city which is absolutely beautiful, green and full of sights.

Border crossings were smooth – although each of them lasts between one or two hours during which the train stops. Without these administrative stops, the whole trip probably could be shortened by a full day. We covered about 3500km during the four day journey. Although transiting into Kazachstan was a pleasant experience (I had a relaxed chat with an English speaking customs official), the exit from Kazachstan was less pleasant. Not for me, but for passengers on another train. We could watch how the Kazakh border control made Uzbek people lining up alongside a train to check their luggage. After they paid some small fee, they could re-enter their train. Timur told me that he was very happy to be with me in the compartment, because customs would never do this to a tourist and somehow I seemed to act as a shield as the authorities do not want to spread a bad image among foreigners of how abusive officials can be.

For my part, I was happy to have been able to contribute at least somehow a small bit in return, if my presence really acted as “protection”. Because on that trip, I enjoyed both Russian and Uzbek hospitality. Both of which I will keep a long time in memory.

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