Rememberance Day

Picnic UZ Style

Monday is a national holiday in Uzbekistan called Remembrance Day.  It is similar to Memorial Day, in the USA.  As a result, we had a rare 3 day weekend.  On Saturday we went to the plant for a bit anyway.  Sunday was the day filled with new experiences.  We had been invited to a picnic by one of the top executives in Asaka.  It was at his vacation home, in the hills.  As we were driving there, we turned through a gate, onto a very small road.  It seemed like we were entering a park.  The road was curving around the hills.  There were some structures on top of the hill.  One guy said is that an oil derrick?  Another guessed that it was a communication tower.  I said, I know it sounds a little crazy but it looks like a ferris wheel to me.  When we arrived we saw the table set up and grand fashion under an archway covered in grapevines.  There was a tiny pool, a garden full of potato plants, a small out house and a house which had an outdoor cooking area.  We were advised that our picnic was to begin at a different location.  We all got back into the cars and continued up the hill.  When we arrived at our destination we could see some traditional Uzbek tables and some awnings.  It was a park, complete with pavilions.  As we pulled into a parking spot everyone in the car gasped.  The view was breath taking.  It was the most incredible we had seen, in the Farghana Valley.  The drop off next to the pavilions was nearly straight down, for a thousand feet.  It overlooked the Osh Road, which goes to Kyrgyzstan.  In the distance were more mountains, the Tien Shan range.  We were told that on the other side of those mountains lies western China.  There was a beautiful breeze, not strong but very refreshing.  When I asked, one of our hosts explained that the place is called bag a samal (all a's sound like ahh).  It means garden of wind.  It was at some point in the very distant past owned by Babur, the great grandson of Timur on his father's side and a descendant of Genghis Khan on his Mother's side.  This is the same Babur who's descendant built the Taj Mahal.  As we walked further up the hill, the mechanism we had seen from the road below was revealed.  It was a ferris wheel.  One of the Uzbeks and I took it for a ride.  From the top we could see snow capped mountains in the distance to our right.  These I was told were the ones separating Uzbekistan from Tajikistan to the south. They are also the ones we traverse to get to Tashkent.

After our ferris wheel ride we went back down to the pavilions.  Salads of fresh tomato and cucumbers had arrived as had the first couple of bottles of vodka.  I was warned that vodka was served very early at these type of events.  The report was not wrong, it was 10:30 AM and everyone was being poured a glass.  After enjoying the scenery and the salad, we headed back to our hosts cottage.  The table was being set with creamy dressed salads, a deli tray with meats and cheese and beautiful fresh strawberries.  They are so sweet here that they require no sugar.  They deli tray had a meat with which I was not familiar.  I put one on my plate to try.  It was a fatty meat, a little tough but with a good taste.  The man to my left, at the head of the table, asked me if I knew what I was eating.  I told him I did not so he revealed to me that it was horse.  It went well on this deli tray of sausages and cheeses.  I told the Chinese lady to my right that I had never had it before.  She told me about how common horse as well as dog and cat are, in her country.  She said she never ate any of them.

The next course was boiled chicken.  It fell of the bone and was intended to be eaten with the other fresh vegetables and herbs, which included dill, cilantro and jalapeno.  After the chicken came the soup.  It was a chicken broth with onions and carrots.  Really delicious.  One of the Uzbeks told the table that it did not matter the temperature, soup is traditional.  He then told a story of an Uzbek who visited a friend in Siberia, in the winter.  When he got there the man served him a cold beverage.  The Uzbek advised his host that he had hoped for something warm.  The host's retort was that when he was in Uzbekistan, in the summer and it was over 40C (104F), he was served hot soup, so he was returning the same hospitality.  The Uzbeks all laughed, then when the translation was complete, the rest of us laughed in turn.  Truth is, there have been very few days since I have been here that I have not eaten soup.  Even when it was 100 degrees outside.

About this time the chief executive officer, for the holding company that owns 75% of GMUz and a very high government official, arrived.  His face is weathered and chiseled.  His demeanor gracious.  He is a man small in stature but not in respect.  He is responsible for all of the joint ventures in Uzbekistan which supply auto parts to GMUz.  It was clear that those who knew him held him in high regard.  On occasion he stays in the cottage next to mine, however I had never seen him before this picnic.

After the soup came the lamb.  It was a lamb rib stew with carrots, onions and potatoes.  The meat was as tender as you can imagine.  The juices were wonderful to dip the bread.  This had finally been the main course.  The final dishes to come to the table were filled with fruit.  Plates piled high with fresh cherries, other plates with fresh mulberries and apricots and the usual bowls of almonds and pistachios.  At dinner some changed from vodka to cognac.  Still others drank traditional Uzbek wine or Russian beer.  During dinner everyone gave at least one toast.  Most had to do with health and financial success.  My toast was more contrite.  I simply toasted to the hospitality of the Uzbek people.

The party broke up in the late afternoon.  We rode back to the cottages and relaxed the evening away watching movies.  Needless to say, we sent word to the cooks not to make us dinner.  We certainly had consumed our share, for the day.