In The News
First I want to give a little shout out to Bowling Green. I saw the news that two alleged Iraqi insurgents were arrested in our fair city. I am glad that the Feds swooped in and got these guys. More importantly to me, I am proud of the people of the town. I did not hear of any protests or bigoted things happening. I took it as a sign that our little city is mature enough to be diverse. Unlike the nuts in other places like Florida and Murfreesboro, which have embarrassed themselves and the rest of the country recently. I thought it important to highlight the news that didn't happen, in the case of BGKY.
Spring and Summer in the Fargona Valley
I wanted to make sure to say what a lovely place this has become. There are lilies and roses in bloom everywhere. The trees are all green. In between the homes and the road are archways covered in grape vines or roses, which are in full foliage. If you look past the beautiful plants, the same poverty and difficult life exists. The beauty does help, especially compared to how bleak the place was in the wintertime. It has been in the 90s most days, hitting 100 only a few times so far. There has been enough rain to keep the flowers blooming and everything green. The fruits and vegetables are delicious. We eat fresh cucumbers and tomatoes everyday. There are more varieties of apricots here than I even knew existed. The strawberries have come and gone but while they lasted they were sweeter than any in our grocery stores, no sweetener required. Now the watermelon is being harvested. It is as good as the ones from Missouri and Arkansas. They have harvested the first crop of wheat and work in the cotton fields everyday. I have my favorite outdoor cafe to get delicious grilled meat, called shashleek (like shish kabob). They also have my favorite Russian beer, Baltika 7, and they will serve it cold. There is another outdoor cafe within walking distance that you can get some ice cream. I get the hand dipped stuff. It has no flavor, not even vanilla. It is ice cream as pure as can be, but it is good. It has been a long and beautiful spring. I expect that it will soon be replaced by nearly unbearable hot dry weather.
An Uzbek Muslim Wedding
On Friday a friend from work told me that he wanted me to experience an Uzbek wedding. His cousin was getting married and he wanted me to come. On Saturday, he spent the day doing traditional wedding things, while I was at work. He picked me up about 4:00 PM and we headed to a restaurant called Tantana, in Asaka. The second floor of the building was set up as a banquet hall, in a very similar manner to any other wedding reception. I would estimate about 150 people attended. The head table was big enough for only four people. The parents of the bride were not in the room. From what I am told, the groom returns his new wife to her family after one week of marriage, at which time they will congratulate the couple and share a celebratory meal. I thought it was a strange custom.
Many in the room made their way up to congratulate the groom. I gave him some money as I had asked someone I respected what was appropriate and he told me. I never met the bride. The friend I went with introduced me to his adorable little boy of one year. Then when we were moving to the other side of the room, because a place had been reserved for us with all of the cousins etc., he dished the cute kid to his wife. He never even stopped for a kiss or to introduce me to her. In the hall, men and women sat at separate tables. The men wore slacks and shirts with collars but no coats or ties, except for the groom and his best man. The women were dressed to the nines. There was a large Tashkent influence in this room. Some of the dresses were cut lower than I had seen in this part of the country. There were many wearing high heels. Even the little girls wore very fancy dresses and had their hair done specially for the event. The bride wore a traditional long white wedding dress with a sheer veil over her face. When the dancing began only the men danced. Gender roles are so different here.
The music was too loud but the band was good. There were laser lights dancing all over the room. The pitiful little air conditioner in the corner was completely inadequate. It was 95 degrees outside. Inside it was hotter. All of the ladies were using hankies or papers to fan themselves. The tables were set with non (traditional bread), salads, fruit, nuts, cakes, pastries, candy and soft drinks. It was not long however, before the vodka appeared. The first course was soup. Uzbeks eat soup everyday, even in the stifling heat. The main course was a dish consisting of beef, buckwheat, a boiled egg, some french fries and a sauce. I don't know what it is called but I have had it before at the plant. It tastes good but I don't think I would ever order it.
After eating, it was time for the wedding ceremony. The couple had been married at a private religious ceremony at the grooms parent home, earlier in the day. The civil ceremony took place after everyone had eaten. The bride and groom proceeded to a table set up in front of the band. The bride finally lifted the veil from her face. There was a women wearing a sash of green, blue and white, evoking the Uzbek flag. She read from a book, I imagine instructing the couple of their new responsibilities. Once complete, each the bride and the groom signed a document. There were rings, as I saw them pass but I did not see the exchange. I think they pretty much just put them on. There was nothing that struck me as if they were saying vows to one another. After the signing, some guys began to pour champagne into traditional glasses which contained cubes of dry ice. The stack of glasses was enveloped in thick white steam. Then the glasses were handed around.
After the ceremony people came to the microphone to wish the couple well. I was called out by one of the cousins to come to the mic. I said something simple like congratulations to you both. I hope that your marriage is long, happy and prosperous, as mine has been. After that I was expected to dance. Very strange, but apparently this is part of how the band is compensated. As the men are dancing, other men come and hand them money. Then a boy, who was affiliated with the band, collected all of the money from the people who were dancing. Somewhere there is video of all of this. I don't expect it to ever be broadcast as from what I understand all of the video would be produced into a montage which would be for the personal use of the bride and groom. That is probably a good thing.
From that point the ceremony continued with drinking and dancing. The couple left, much to my chagrin, in a Camry. Apparently a prestigious car. The groom returned after a short amount of time and the men continued drinking and dancing. I was forward enough to stop my friend the next time we were near his wife, so that I could tell her what a beautiful family she had. He was uncomfortable with it but the women were not. A sister who's husband had been in the USA for six years told me that she could not get a visa to leave the country. They were apparently afraid she would not return. My friend's mother and his little brother gathered with us. His Mom thought maybe I could smuggle her daughter, and her, to the USA with me. I told them security is tight and we would all wind up in jail. She then invited me to their home. At this point we have a plan for after work next Saturday. I am really looking forward to it. After some pictures and socializing a bit, I had my friend help me hire a taxi to get me back to Andijon. In the morning he sent me a text to make sure I was safe.
These people have truly been wonderful to me.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
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.
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.
Sunday, May 1, 2011
A Real Honor
An Uzbek Home Vist!
I've been back in the UZ for a couple of weeks. Some interesting things have happened. One of the English speakers at the plant had asked me to bring back some blue jeans for him when I returned. While I was gone he had undergone an emergency appendectomy. This took him away from work for about three weeks. One of our mutual friends and I made a date to go to his house, to deliver the jeans. On that evening, after work, we walked from the plant to the center of Asaka. There we caught a Damas. For those who have seen my photo album on FB, those are the small vans. They are used in many places as mass transportation. The Damas took us to the end of the street my guide believed was correct. He called our friend who emerged from a door, so we went to greet him.
When we went through the external gate, the house was in front of us. Built on one level, elevated by a couple of feet, doors to the rooms all face the courtyard, bounded by the wall through which we had just passed. I met his mother and grandmother, as they came from what I imagine was the kitchen, to greet us. My friend lead us to the room he had prepared for us. We took off our shoes, as is the custom, and entered. The room was recently completed as the paint looked fresh and the wood work very clean. In the corner near some book shelves were some large colorful cushions. Some flat on the floor and in some places up against the wall. In the midst of the cushions was a low table. It was set with nuts, fruits, candy and juices. My friend had asked his mother to prepare a meal for us. First came a salad which contained fruit, nuts, vegetables and meat in a white creamy dressing. It was quite delicious. Then came the soup. Soup is traditional regardless of the weather. I suspect it is because the leftovers from yesterday can easily turn into a wonderful soup today. Since we lunch nearly everyday, he knows I am a soup lover, so he requested it. The meal was served to us by his two sisters. One speaks English but is very shy, the other does not. Both are lovely young ladies and perfect hostesses. When his father returned from the hospital, where he works as a surgeon, he and a family friend joined us. There were now five men at the table with occasional visits, to serve the next course or refresh the tea, by the two girls. Dessert was served. It was cake that had been purchased from a local bakery. It was both beautiful and decadent. The Uzbeks make some of the most beautiful cakes you will ever see and they enjoy them for many occasions.
The man of the house seemed very happy to have us in their company that night. He does not speak English nor does the friend he brought home. We did fine because his son and the man I traveled with, are both excellent English speakers and Uzbek is their native tongue. It was an enjoyable time. I believe I will be invited back to their home, before I leave the country. There was talk of having a bigger party and most likely some Osh, possibly from the Choyxana.
It is not unusual for groups to begin eating at different times. At restaurants there is no thought given to serving everyone simultaneously. The important part in this culture is to end together. No one leaves the table until everyone is done. The natural leader will then hold his hands plams up. This is the beginning of the Duo (pronounced doo wa). It is the silent prayer everyone says as they move their hands to their eyes and sweep them down their face, without actually touching their face. On this night, my friends father begun the Duo, after confirming that everyone had received enough to eat.
On the way out I thought my guide and I were going to catch a Damas to the center of Asaka, where he would ensure I got into the correct Damas to get back to the cottages, then he would go the opposite direction to his home. Our friend's father had a different plan. The family friend actually owned a Damas, so when we got to the street we were instructed to get into the van. Four of us including my guide, my friends father and the family friend proceeded towards the center of Asaka. At the first point where a Damas can be caught, my guide exited the vehicle, to get a ride to his own home. The rest of us drove a ways further. I was not completely clear on the plan but had no reason not to trust these two fine gentlemen with whom I had just dined. They stopped at a small store for one to make a purchase, then we continued to, what was in effect, a taxi stand. My friend's father got out of the Damas and negotiated a rate to return me, to the cottages. He motioned for me to get into the taxi. Then he called his son, explained the arrangement and handed the phone to me. My friend told me that the car I was in would return me to the cottages but the driver needed to wait for additional fares, headed to Andijon. I asked him how much I would owe. He said not to worry about that, his father had already taken care of it.
In very short order a man with two large parcels made a deal with my new driver. This was all the tiny car would handle, so off we went. It is only about a 10 kilometer ride so I was soon back to where I stay. I sent a text to my friend thanking him for the hospitality. I also asked him to tell his father that I said he has a beautiful family and thank him for being so kind to me.
Email from Hillary's folks
This week the U.S citizens here all got an email from the US Department of State. It indicated that there was an imminent threat to soft targets, especially places where U.S. citizens live, work and socialize, in Uzbekistan. Apparently there are some extremeist groups making some waves. The day before that the guards at the plant were wearing body armour. The next morning on the way to work we were delayed by a convoy of tanks. All of this has been a little scary. We have not really changed anything we do. We went to the market and out to dinner multiple times this week. If I get evacuated I'll make sure to write about it.
Please understand, the people I know here are wonderful, hospitable and generally good people. The area is quite religious. We talk about it all the time. The people I know believe like most of us that hurting or killing another person is wrong and against God. The fact that they call God Allah makes no difference. Whether Jew, Christian or Muslim, we all worship the same God. We have different customs and that is all. Today, be grateful for the ability to be tolerant and to learn from others, then be sure to practice the tolerance in your own life.
Until next time...
I've been back in the UZ for a couple of weeks. Some interesting things have happened. One of the English speakers at the plant had asked me to bring back some blue jeans for him when I returned. While I was gone he had undergone an emergency appendectomy. This took him away from work for about three weeks. One of our mutual friends and I made a date to go to his house, to deliver the jeans. On that evening, after work, we walked from the plant to the center of Asaka. There we caught a Damas. For those who have seen my photo album on FB, those are the small vans. They are used in many places as mass transportation. The Damas took us to the end of the street my guide believed was correct. He called our friend who emerged from a door, so we went to greet him.
When we went through the external gate, the house was in front of us. Built on one level, elevated by a couple of feet, doors to the rooms all face the courtyard, bounded by the wall through which we had just passed. I met his mother and grandmother, as they came from what I imagine was the kitchen, to greet us. My friend lead us to the room he had prepared for us. We took off our shoes, as is the custom, and entered. The room was recently completed as the paint looked fresh and the wood work very clean. In the corner near some book shelves were some large colorful cushions. Some flat on the floor and in some places up against the wall. In the midst of the cushions was a low table. It was set with nuts, fruits, candy and juices. My friend had asked his mother to prepare a meal for us. First came a salad which contained fruit, nuts, vegetables and meat in a white creamy dressing. It was quite delicious. Then came the soup. Soup is traditional regardless of the weather. I suspect it is because the leftovers from yesterday can easily turn into a wonderful soup today. Since we lunch nearly everyday, he knows I am a soup lover, so he requested it. The meal was served to us by his two sisters. One speaks English but is very shy, the other does not. Both are lovely young ladies and perfect hostesses. When his father returned from the hospital, where he works as a surgeon, he and a family friend joined us. There were now five men at the table with occasional visits, to serve the next course or refresh the tea, by the two girls. Dessert was served. It was cake that had been purchased from a local bakery. It was both beautiful and decadent. The Uzbeks make some of the most beautiful cakes you will ever see and they enjoy them for many occasions.
The man of the house seemed very happy to have us in their company that night. He does not speak English nor does the friend he brought home. We did fine because his son and the man I traveled with, are both excellent English speakers and Uzbek is their native tongue. It was an enjoyable time. I believe I will be invited back to their home, before I leave the country. There was talk of having a bigger party and most likely some Osh, possibly from the Choyxana.
It is not unusual for groups to begin eating at different times. At restaurants there is no thought given to serving everyone simultaneously. The important part in this culture is to end together. No one leaves the table until everyone is done. The natural leader will then hold his hands plams up. This is the beginning of the Duo (pronounced doo wa). It is the silent prayer everyone says as they move their hands to their eyes and sweep them down their face, without actually touching their face. On this night, my friends father begun the Duo, after confirming that everyone had received enough to eat.
On the way out I thought my guide and I were going to catch a Damas to the center of Asaka, where he would ensure I got into the correct Damas to get back to the cottages, then he would go the opposite direction to his home. Our friend's father had a different plan. The family friend actually owned a Damas, so when we got to the street we were instructed to get into the van. Four of us including my guide, my friends father and the family friend proceeded towards the center of Asaka. At the first point where a Damas can be caught, my guide exited the vehicle, to get a ride to his own home. The rest of us drove a ways further. I was not completely clear on the plan but had no reason not to trust these two fine gentlemen with whom I had just dined. They stopped at a small store for one to make a purchase, then we continued to, what was in effect, a taxi stand. My friend's father got out of the Damas and negotiated a rate to return me, to the cottages. He motioned for me to get into the taxi. Then he called his son, explained the arrangement and handed the phone to me. My friend told me that the car I was in would return me to the cottages but the driver needed to wait for additional fares, headed to Andijon. I asked him how much I would owe. He said not to worry about that, his father had already taken care of it.
In very short order a man with two large parcels made a deal with my new driver. This was all the tiny car would handle, so off we went. It is only about a 10 kilometer ride so I was soon back to where I stay. I sent a text to my friend thanking him for the hospitality. I also asked him to tell his father that I said he has a beautiful family and thank him for being so kind to me.
Email from Hillary's folks
This week the U.S citizens here all got an email from the US Department of State. It indicated that there was an imminent threat to soft targets, especially places where U.S. citizens live, work and socialize, in Uzbekistan. Apparently there are some extremeist groups making some waves. The day before that the guards at the plant were wearing body armour. The next morning on the way to work we were delayed by a convoy of tanks. All of this has been a little scary. We have not really changed anything we do. We went to the market and out to dinner multiple times this week. If I get evacuated I'll make sure to write about it.
Please understand, the people I know here are wonderful, hospitable and generally good people. The area is quite religious. We talk about it all the time. The people I know believe like most of us that hurting or killing another person is wrong and against God. The fact that they call God Allah makes no difference. Whether Jew, Christian or Muslim, we all worship the same God. We have different customs and that is all. Today, be grateful for the ability to be tolerant and to learn from others, then be sure to practice the tolerance in your own life.
Until next time...
Friday, April 8, 2011
Vacation Time
Prepare to Leave the UZ
Last week my mission was twofold: 1) collect no new assignments and 2) get someone else trained to do all of the daily activities I was doing. Some of the guys were feeling the pressure. I have been there since the day the GM material scheduling system was implemented, in January. All of the sudden I was going to be half a world away. I assured them that I would check my emails and answer daily. I really think the distance, at this point, will do them some good, as I am a bit of a crutch. Now that they have to write the question instead of just running over and asking me, I imagine they will answer many themselves.
Lunch at the Choixana
My plan was to go over the mountain, on Thursday afternoon. Four of the guys in the office decided to take me out to lunch on Wednesday. We went to the same Choixana (sounds like choy hana and translates to tea house) we had been to before. The tables at this establishment are traditional. They look like four poster beds. Four people sit on it, one at each corner and the food goes in the center. On each side there is a bench, for additional people. This time the weather was beautiful, so we ate outside. We sat at the edge of the property over looking a valley called the "pocket," under a tree and among the peacocks and peahens. The food was delicious. We started with tea, non (bread), tomato, cucumber and onion salad and a yogurt based cucumber sauce which reminded me of Tadzhik (the sauce on a gyro). Then came the osh or pilov. From what I am told, the amount that comes to the table is based on the amount of rice ordered. This time the order was for six kg. The guys gave me the choice so we ate with spoons. I figured my slacks had a better chance of not getting stained, than if we ate in the traditional manner, with our hands. When we were all full, the elder in the group implored the lunch party to join together and finish the rest. We all complied. When there was only a couple of spoonfuls remaining, our elder advised us that the youngest was obliged to finish. We all ate too much but the expectation of leaving nothing was met.
What a Trip
I left work as planned, stopped by the cottage to change and pack the car and headed over the mountain. It was around eighty degrees when we left at about 2:45PM. In three hours we were no longer in the valley. There was still some snow on the tops of the mountains. In fact it actually snowed on us. I took a few pictures on the way. Watch for FB updates. The thing about the pics is that you are not supposed to take them where people live or where the military is present. The driver made sure I understood when not take them.
I got to the Dedeman Hotel late in the evening. The same wonderful folks who had been so helpful in January were on duty and remembered me. I checked in, got my stuff into my room and headed down for a meal. I had the first steak I had eaten since I left Detroit. There was a violin and piano duo performing. Many of my family members were on Skype so it was almost like having dinner with them. I also enjoyed a wonderful local dry red wine. It was very nice.
The next morning a driver met me out front at 4:00AM to take me to the airport. I got checked in, through customs and passport control and got to the gate after the bus to the plane had already begun loading. Turkish Airlines flies the older 767s but the food was really good. The spinach pastry and the yogurt were my favorites. I really enjoyed the smells on this plane. I was in seat 1A and there was no one in 1B. The smells from the galley area wafted past each time they prepared a meal or a pot of coffee. In addition, the flight attendant wore a perfume which smelled of a Turkish princess. I suspect it was jasmine but it was really nice and filled my air space each time she passed.
In Istanbul I needed juice. My iPhone, which I use for reading, music and FB, while traveling, was getting low. I headed straight to my next gate and spotted an outlet. It was on a pillar behind some recycle bins. The configuration was the same as the ones in UZ. I sat on the floor, charging and reading, until it was time to check in for my flight to New York. Ironically, the ebook I was reading came to a chapter about Istanbul as I sat in that very airport. I know you already know I'm a bit of a geek so I'll go ahead and tell you I am reading a history book. It is "Inside Central Asia: Understanding the Post Soviet Republics of...." Good stuff!
My stuff was wiped down inside and out and I got the pat down. Standard procedure for everyone at this airport. Soon we boarded and we were on our way to NYC. Once there, nearly 12 hours later, we had to go through passport control and customs. At JFK you have to collect your bags, pass through customs and recheck your bags. I spent my layover in the Delta Sky Club talking to my family and getting another charge on my iPhone. It was here that I noticed the 110 really charges much slower that the 220 used everywhere else. I didn't quite get a full charge but my flight to Nashville was a short one.
My wife and two youngest picked me up. Airport hugs are some of the best you ever get. By the time I got home I had been traveling for over 28 hours. The day was still Friday. All in all, Friday April 1st was 34 hours long. Needless to say, on Saturday April 2nd I had no brain activity whatsoever.
Home at Last
Now I'm on vacation. I head back into the UZ on Sunday the 17th. I'll see many of you while I'm in town. Feel free to ask me to expand on any of the stories I've told. It has been fun sharing this experience. It makes me feel good each time someone makes a comment or tells me they like to read what I wrote. It is a connection to the people I know and love for which I am truly grateful. Thanks!!!
Last week my mission was twofold: 1) collect no new assignments and 2) get someone else trained to do all of the daily activities I was doing. Some of the guys were feeling the pressure. I have been there since the day the GM material scheduling system was implemented, in January. All of the sudden I was going to be half a world away. I assured them that I would check my emails and answer daily. I really think the distance, at this point, will do them some good, as I am a bit of a crutch. Now that they have to write the question instead of just running over and asking me, I imagine they will answer many themselves.
Lunch at the Choixana
My plan was to go over the mountain, on Thursday afternoon. Four of the guys in the office decided to take me out to lunch on Wednesday. We went to the same Choixana (sounds like choy hana and translates to tea house) we had been to before. The tables at this establishment are traditional. They look like four poster beds. Four people sit on it, one at each corner and the food goes in the center. On each side there is a bench, for additional people. This time the weather was beautiful, so we ate outside. We sat at the edge of the property over looking a valley called the "pocket," under a tree and among the peacocks and peahens. The food was delicious. We started with tea, non (bread), tomato, cucumber and onion salad and a yogurt based cucumber sauce which reminded me of Tadzhik (the sauce on a gyro). Then came the osh or pilov. From what I am told, the amount that comes to the table is based on the amount of rice ordered. This time the order was for six kg. The guys gave me the choice so we ate with spoons. I figured my slacks had a better chance of not getting stained, than if we ate in the traditional manner, with our hands. When we were all full, the elder in the group implored the lunch party to join together and finish the rest. We all complied. When there was only a couple of spoonfuls remaining, our elder advised us that the youngest was obliged to finish. We all ate too much but the expectation of leaving nothing was met.
What a Trip
I left work as planned, stopped by the cottage to change and pack the car and headed over the mountain. It was around eighty degrees when we left at about 2:45PM. In three hours we were no longer in the valley. There was still some snow on the tops of the mountains. In fact it actually snowed on us. I took a few pictures on the way. Watch for FB updates. The thing about the pics is that you are not supposed to take them where people live or where the military is present. The driver made sure I understood when not take them.
I got to the Dedeman Hotel late in the evening. The same wonderful folks who had been so helpful in January were on duty and remembered me. I checked in, got my stuff into my room and headed down for a meal. I had the first steak I had eaten since I left Detroit. There was a violin and piano duo performing. Many of my family members were on Skype so it was almost like having dinner with them. I also enjoyed a wonderful local dry red wine. It was very nice.
The next morning a driver met me out front at 4:00AM to take me to the airport. I got checked in, through customs and passport control and got to the gate after the bus to the plane had already begun loading. Turkish Airlines flies the older 767s but the food was really good. The spinach pastry and the yogurt were my favorites. I really enjoyed the smells on this plane. I was in seat 1A and there was no one in 1B. The smells from the galley area wafted past each time they prepared a meal or a pot of coffee. In addition, the flight attendant wore a perfume which smelled of a Turkish princess. I suspect it was jasmine but it was really nice and filled my air space each time she passed.
In Istanbul I needed juice. My iPhone, which I use for reading, music and FB, while traveling, was getting low. I headed straight to my next gate and spotted an outlet. It was on a pillar behind some recycle bins. The configuration was the same as the ones in UZ. I sat on the floor, charging and reading, until it was time to check in for my flight to New York. Ironically, the ebook I was reading came to a chapter about Istanbul as I sat in that very airport. I know you already know I'm a bit of a geek so I'll go ahead and tell you I am reading a history book. It is "Inside Central Asia: Understanding the Post Soviet Republics of...." Good stuff!
My stuff was wiped down inside and out and I got the pat down. Standard procedure for everyone at this airport. Soon we boarded and we were on our way to NYC. Once there, nearly 12 hours later, we had to go through passport control and customs. At JFK you have to collect your bags, pass through customs and recheck your bags. I spent my layover in the Delta Sky Club talking to my family and getting another charge on my iPhone. It was here that I noticed the 110 really charges much slower that the 220 used everywhere else. I didn't quite get a full charge but my flight to Nashville was a short one.
My wife and two youngest picked me up. Airport hugs are some of the best you ever get. By the time I got home I had been traveling for over 28 hours. The day was still Friday. All in all, Friday April 1st was 34 hours long. Needless to say, on Saturday April 2nd I had no brain activity whatsoever.
Home at Last
Now I'm on vacation. I head back into the UZ on Sunday the 17th. I'll see many of you while I'm in town. Feel free to ask me to expand on any of the stories I've told. It has been fun sharing this experience. It makes me feel good each time someone makes a comment or tells me they like to read what I wrote. It is a connection to the people I know and love for which I am truly grateful. Thanks!!!
Sunday, March 27, 2011
It's Almost Spring Break
Navrus Celebration:
Last Monday we were invited to a celebration at the GMUz Garage. This is the headquarters for the folks who move the cars out on trucks. They also drive buses for employees and personal vehicles for those of us not allowed to drive. I have heard that the department is around 600 people. At least a couple hundred of them were at the party. The place was set up like a wedding reception. In our party was one young lady from China. When we arrived we thought she was the only female in the entire room. There were four other women who came. They were all performers. Some of the music was not good. When one of the women was singing I leaned over to my Chinese friend and asked her if this one was on her iPod. She got close to my ear and said no, this is suicide music. I had to laugh. There was a young lady who sang as well. She had a beautiful voice and sang up tempo songs. She was very enjoyable. One other thing I noticed, whenever a man was singing there would be a steady stream of guys going up to put money in his pockets. I did not see anyone tip any of the women. Most likely for the same reason that there were none invited to the party.
The food was not the best I'd had. There were the usual almonds, pistachios, raisins, apples and pears. The soup was a different one that has a sour component. It reminded me of something Greek. The osh had large pieces of fat in the bowl. It was made of whole grain rice. It was nowhere near as good as the Choi Xana. To drink there was tea as well as some juice and soda. As is my custom, I drank the tea.
Vacation:
I am headed over the mountain to Tashkent this Thursday, March 31st. Friday I fly to Istanbul, JFK and then Nashville. I'll be in Bowling Green for a couple of weeks. I return to UZ on Sunday the 17th. I fly Nashville to LaGuardia, shuttle to JFK then fly to Istanbul and Tashkent. I'll be back to work on Tuesday the 18th. I hope I get to see some of you while I'm in the USA.
Think about me while I'm traveling and be grateful for all you have been given.
Last Monday we were invited to a celebration at the GMUz Garage. This is the headquarters for the folks who move the cars out on trucks. They also drive buses for employees and personal vehicles for those of us not allowed to drive. I have heard that the department is around 600 people. At least a couple hundred of them were at the party. The place was set up like a wedding reception. In our party was one young lady from China. When we arrived we thought she was the only female in the entire room. There were four other women who came. They were all performers. Some of the music was not good. When one of the women was singing I leaned over to my Chinese friend and asked her if this one was on her iPod. She got close to my ear and said no, this is suicide music. I had to laugh. There was a young lady who sang as well. She had a beautiful voice and sang up tempo songs. She was very enjoyable. One other thing I noticed, whenever a man was singing there would be a steady stream of guys going up to put money in his pockets. I did not see anyone tip any of the women. Most likely for the same reason that there were none invited to the party.
The food was not the best I'd had. There were the usual almonds, pistachios, raisins, apples and pears. The soup was a different one that has a sour component. It reminded me of something Greek. The osh had large pieces of fat in the bowl. It was made of whole grain rice. It was nowhere near as good as the Choi Xana. To drink there was tea as well as some juice and soda. As is my custom, I drank the tea.
Vacation:
I am headed over the mountain to Tashkent this Thursday, March 31st. Friday I fly to Istanbul, JFK and then Nashville. I'll be in Bowling Green for a couple of weeks. I return to UZ on Sunday the 17th. I fly Nashville to LaGuardia, shuttle to JFK then fly to Istanbul and Tashkent. I'll be back to work on Tuesday the 18th. I hope I get to see some of you while I'm in the USA.
Think about me while I'm traveling and be grateful for all you have been given.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Happy Navrus
I have gone dark for a while. I hope you missed me. I'll give you a little of the past few weeks experiences.
Tantana:
This is the nicest restaurant we've been to here. It is in a town called Fargona which is 70 Km from Andijon. In addition to actually being heated, they also have a stage show and dancing. The first time we went was on a Sunday so we did not stay until the end. Last week we had Sunday off so we went on Saturday night. The salads were good. There was one with beets and garlic mushrooms that was unique and delicious. The beef and lamb kabobs were both excellent. The first time we were able to get veggie kabobs. They were very good too. Somehow the second time we never got the communication well enough, so the veggies never appeared. You are never quite sure what will come to the table. Their menus do not have pictures. They had an English one the first time but not the second. The waitress we had did not read English so we had to find the item in the Russian menu. As difficult as that was, it worked well. The second time they did not have an English menu and the result was not as good either.
The show was all dancing. Some was a traditional Asian dance, some modern dance, there were some comedic ones and even a break dancing crew. It was fun and entertaining. After the show is over, the stage becomes a dance floor. Most of us got up there and danced. I kinda hope no one really follows through with the threats to post on You Tube.
The Team Shrinks:
The second night at Tantana was a "You Think You Are Going Away" party for two of the folks that have been here sine January. One was my traveling partner, who returned to his life in Swartz Creek, including a newly retired wife and grand kids who couldn't wait to see him. The other was my new Indian friend who I will always remember as our best negotiator. Then the night before they went back over the mountain, the team leaders in Supply Chain threw a party at UZ Turk. Everyone had lamb chops, except of course the vegetarian Indian. The plant manager was eating with his boss on the other side of the room. They sent over a cake. The team leaders all gave toasts to our friends. By the way, UZ Turk does not allow alcohol but apparently they knew who to pay because three bottles of Vodka delivered to that table during the course of the evening. They all said kind and appreciative words about the two who were leaving. A good time was had by all.
We are now down to the ISPs who are all on 2-3 year assignments, 3 Koreans who are helping with Logistics and Material Handling and Me. The four of us are here until June.
The Quest for a Hat:
One of the guys who was leaving wanted to purchase a traditional fur hat. When we went to Fargona the first time, we went to the Bazaar, in search of a hat. It was larger than the bazaars we had been to in Andijon. There were also a greater diversity of people. It seemed like there was a large population of Russians in this area. I was surprised to see blond hair. We searched the place high and low looking for a hat. Since the season for wearing them is about over, we thought there might be a bargain. The only place that we found which sold these hats was a shoe store. The guy went into the back and came out with a lovely fur hat for which he wanted 800,000 cym. That was so much my friend did not continue, as he was clearly out of his league.
The next weekend, an Uzbek friend of ours came to the cottages to lead us on the next part of the quest. First we went out for a brunch. The soup call legmon is a vegetable noodle soup that you put hot sauce in to taste. It is very good. We also had comco (pr: somsa). It is a meat pastry that will remind folks in Michigan of a pasty. It is just chunks of beef fried with onions then baked in a pastry, which you pick up and eat. They are very good. After brunch it was time to go to the Jamon Bazaar (World Bazaar).
Our guide made a deal with a Damas driver to take us there. It was 10-15 Km away so the ride cost us 9,000 cym. Once we arrived we were amazed. This was the largest bazaar yet. According to our guide, the Andijon area has a population of about 3 million people. Fully one third of them were there on this gorgeous sunny Sunday. This marketplace must be 10 acres of awning covered merchant stands selling everything from kids shoes to fur hats, office supplies, foods and spices, appliances and toys. There is some organization but not much. The aisle ways were so small that as you make your way through you are constantly in contact with one or more people. The trucks that service the area are like big wheel barrows. Whenever one of them is coming through the crowd parts then the ones headed the same direction as the truck fall in behind to make good progress, through the crowd. It was not quite packed like Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras but it was significantly worse than shopping malls during the Christmas shopping rush. I have no great desire to return. One thing did strike me while we were there. The people were dressed very nicely and many of the items for purchase seemed decent quality. There were many cars in the parking lots, in addition to the long lines of Damases and taxis. It seemed to me like there really is a middle class beginning to emerge, in this valley.
The mission was of course for a hat. Our guide knew where to go so we proceeded through the throng in search of the hat. Once we got to the "Hat Department" there were a number of pushy vendors who wanted to sell a foreigner a hat for dollars. We had to convince them that we were paying cym. Our friend made his purchase. It was a classic brown one, most likely of otter. It cost him a bit over 200,000 cym. That was his price range.
Just Having Fun:
Today, our same Uzbek friend came by to pick up some items one of those who returned home had left behind. We repeated some aspects of previous trips. We had legmon and comco. He and my boss got haircuts. My boss was really surprised by the place because it is a salon full of beautiful women. Since he is a single guy, they found him very interesting as well. The manager in that place is the one who asked me if I wanted another wife the last time I was there. She is very out spoken and has the girls in there laughing all of the time. The power was out much of the time we were there. The two of them moved closer to the windows and the haircuts continued electricity free. The power did come back on when they were finishing up. However, there was no time for me to get a cut. I may try one more time or I might just wait until I return to my favorite barber, who gives me special haircuts, in my own driveway. After the hair salon we were off to the Yangi Bazaar, to get my weekly supply of apples. When my apple girl put them on the scale, she entered 6500 cym/kg. I gave her a look as if I were feeling a little hurt. She reduced it to the price I had been paying, 6000 cym/kg. The total was 8700 so I gave her 9000. She added an orange to my bag. While I was there the woman from the next stand over got my attention. She did that thing with her left ring finger again. The guys want to know if the shop will change names after the wedding. When we got back I cut up an apple for them. They all agreed it was simply delicious. I think maybe I convinced them that I go there because she gives me the best apples, not because I am looking for another wife.
The Weather:
OK, this was weird. Last week the temperatures were climbing each day. The forecast was calling for snow on Wednesday. I kid you not, it was 77 degrees on Tuesday and we woke up to a half inch of snow on the ground on Wednesday. The people here said it was very strange to have such a variation over night. I was amazed by the accuracy of the forecast. They had been calling for the increasing temperatures and the snow for an entire week. We are now back up in the 60s with the 70s just around the corner and no snow in the forecast.
Navrus:
Today is the third day since I have been here that I did not go to the plant. Tomorrow will be the forth. It is a New Years type holiday in celebration of the vernal equinox. In ancient times the holiday was a celebration of the light overcoming the darkness. We don't have any plans but I hope to at least take a walk to see what people do to celebrate Navrus.
In the End:
I am really having a wonderful experience. I can not thank GM and my family enough for affording me this opportunity. I suspect that there will be more opportunities in our future as a result of this one. I am grateful. Now that you have finished another account of mine, take some time to think about some of the things in your life, that you take for granted and be grateful, today.
Tantana:
This is the nicest restaurant we've been to here. It is in a town called Fargona which is 70 Km from Andijon. In addition to actually being heated, they also have a stage show and dancing. The first time we went was on a Sunday so we did not stay until the end. Last week we had Sunday off so we went on Saturday night. The salads were good. There was one with beets and garlic mushrooms that was unique and delicious. The beef and lamb kabobs were both excellent. The first time we were able to get veggie kabobs. They were very good too. Somehow the second time we never got the communication well enough, so the veggies never appeared. You are never quite sure what will come to the table. Their menus do not have pictures. They had an English one the first time but not the second. The waitress we had did not read English so we had to find the item in the Russian menu. As difficult as that was, it worked well. The second time they did not have an English menu and the result was not as good either.
The show was all dancing. Some was a traditional Asian dance, some modern dance, there were some comedic ones and even a break dancing crew. It was fun and entertaining. After the show is over, the stage becomes a dance floor. Most of us got up there and danced. I kinda hope no one really follows through with the threats to post on You Tube.
The Team Shrinks:
The second night at Tantana was a "You Think You Are Going Away" party for two of the folks that have been here sine January. One was my traveling partner, who returned to his life in Swartz Creek, including a newly retired wife and grand kids who couldn't wait to see him. The other was my new Indian friend who I will always remember as our best negotiator. Then the night before they went back over the mountain, the team leaders in Supply Chain threw a party at UZ Turk. Everyone had lamb chops, except of course the vegetarian Indian. The plant manager was eating with his boss on the other side of the room. They sent over a cake. The team leaders all gave toasts to our friends. By the way, UZ Turk does not allow alcohol but apparently they knew who to pay because three bottles of Vodka delivered to that table during the course of the evening. They all said kind and appreciative words about the two who were leaving. A good time was had by all.
We are now down to the ISPs who are all on 2-3 year assignments, 3 Koreans who are helping with Logistics and Material Handling and Me. The four of us are here until June.
The Quest for a Hat:
One of the guys who was leaving wanted to purchase a traditional fur hat. When we went to Fargona the first time, we went to the Bazaar, in search of a hat. It was larger than the bazaars we had been to in Andijon. There were also a greater diversity of people. It seemed like there was a large population of Russians in this area. I was surprised to see blond hair. We searched the place high and low looking for a hat. Since the season for wearing them is about over, we thought there might be a bargain. The only place that we found which sold these hats was a shoe store. The guy went into the back and came out with a lovely fur hat for which he wanted 800,000 cym. That was so much my friend did not continue, as he was clearly out of his league.
The next weekend, an Uzbek friend of ours came to the cottages to lead us on the next part of the quest. First we went out for a brunch. The soup call legmon is a vegetable noodle soup that you put hot sauce in to taste. It is very good. We also had comco (pr: somsa). It is a meat pastry that will remind folks in Michigan of a pasty. It is just chunks of beef fried with onions then baked in a pastry, which you pick up and eat. They are very good. After brunch it was time to go to the Jamon Bazaar (World Bazaar).
Our guide made a deal with a Damas driver to take us there. It was 10-15 Km away so the ride cost us 9,000 cym. Once we arrived we were amazed. This was the largest bazaar yet. According to our guide, the Andijon area has a population of about 3 million people. Fully one third of them were there on this gorgeous sunny Sunday. This marketplace must be 10 acres of awning covered merchant stands selling everything from kids shoes to fur hats, office supplies, foods and spices, appliances and toys. There is some organization but not much. The aisle ways were so small that as you make your way through you are constantly in contact with one or more people. The trucks that service the area are like big wheel barrows. Whenever one of them is coming through the crowd parts then the ones headed the same direction as the truck fall in behind to make good progress, through the crowd. It was not quite packed like Bourbon Street on Mardi Gras but it was significantly worse than shopping malls during the Christmas shopping rush. I have no great desire to return. One thing did strike me while we were there. The people were dressed very nicely and many of the items for purchase seemed decent quality. There were many cars in the parking lots, in addition to the long lines of Damases and taxis. It seemed to me like there really is a middle class beginning to emerge, in this valley.
The mission was of course for a hat. Our guide knew where to go so we proceeded through the throng in search of the hat. Once we got to the "Hat Department" there were a number of pushy vendors who wanted to sell a foreigner a hat for dollars. We had to convince them that we were paying cym. Our friend made his purchase. It was a classic brown one, most likely of otter. It cost him a bit over 200,000 cym. That was his price range.
Just Having Fun:
Today, our same Uzbek friend came by to pick up some items one of those who returned home had left behind. We repeated some aspects of previous trips. We had legmon and comco. He and my boss got haircuts. My boss was really surprised by the place because it is a salon full of beautiful women. Since he is a single guy, they found him very interesting as well. The manager in that place is the one who asked me if I wanted another wife the last time I was there. She is very out spoken and has the girls in there laughing all of the time. The power was out much of the time we were there. The two of them moved closer to the windows and the haircuts continued electricity free. The power did come back on when they were finishing up. However, there was no time for me to get a cut. I may try one more time or I might just wait until I return to my favorite barber, who gives me special haircuts, in my own driveway. After the hair salon we were off to the Yangi Bazaar, to get my weekly supply of apples. When my apple girl put them on the scale, she entered 6500 cym/kg. I gave her a look as if I were feeling a little hurt. She reduced it to the price I had been paying, 6000 cym/kg. The total was 8700 so I gave her 9000. She added an orange to my bag. While I was there the woman from the next stand over got my attention. She did that thing with her left ring finger again. The guys want to know if the shop will change names after the wedding. When we got back I cut up an apple for them. They all agreed it was simply delicious. I think maybe I convinced them that I go there because she gives me the best apples, not because I am looking for another wife.
The Weather:
OK, this was weird. Last week the temperatures were climbing each day. The forecast was calling for snow on Wednesday. I kid you not, it was 77 degrees on Tuesday and we woke up to a half inch of snow on the ground on Wednesday. The people here said it was very strange to have such a variation over night. I was amazed by the accuracy of the forecast. They had been calling for the increasing temperatures and the snow for an entire week. We are now back up in the 60s with the 70s just around the corner and no snow in the forecast.
Navrus:
Today is the third day since I have been here that I did not go to the plant. Tomorrow will be the forth. It is a New Years type holiday in celebration of the vernal equinox. In ancient times the holiday was a celebration of the light overcoming the darkness. We don't have any plans but I hope to at least take a walk to see what people do to celebrate Navrus.
In the End:
I am really having a wonderful experience. I can not thank GM and my family enough for affording me this opportunity. I suspect that there will be more opportunities in our future as a result of this one. I am grateful. Now that you have finished another account of mine, take some time to think about some of the things in your life, that you take for granted and be grateful, today.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Winter Returns to the Fargona Valley
The weather was cold but everything else was warm this week. On Wednesday we celebrated Men's Day. From what I understand this was a Soviet holiday that they still celebrate. The women of the office made traditional Uzbek Osh. It is known in Russia as pilov and elsewhere as pilaf. It is similar to dirty rice but with different spices. There was non, which is the round loaves of bread you see everywhere, marinated salad of cabbage and carrots as well as some sliced fruit. It was very nicely done and wonderful to eat.
When I awoke on my birthday I had to trek through an inch of snow to get to Cottage K4, where the workout equipment is located. Yes I did start working out again. That is a good thing as I have more energy even though we still work dark to dark daily.
My birthday was fun. I did post a picture of me and my cake that day. I know most everyone saw it because of the number of FB posts. The ornaments on the sides and the shavings on top were chocolate. The cake was similar to a spice cake. It was triple layer with cream between the layers. The balls were also made of cream. It was very delicious. It was cool that a bunch of guys from all over the world wanted to celebrate with me.
When I was getting ready for bed I noticed that my phone had lost it's signal. I thought, that might not be such a bad thing as I figured there would be some FB posts wishing me happy birthday and commenting on the picture I had just posted. That was a good call. When I enabled my phone service again after I woke up the day after my birthday, there were 40 texts queued up. Most FB posts, others just texts. Lesson of the day: If you are ever on the opposite side of the world of most of your FB friends on your birthday, put the phone on airplane mode or you will not sleep well.
We ended the week by actually making schedule two days in a row and on Saturday produced enough to catch up to the number required for the month. Baring a catastrophe, we will make the February number.
Today we had some fun. We started out with a little time in the plant. It was good that we did. There were some mistakes in the system, which lead people to believe that we were out of a part to build the Matiz. When we did some digging we found enough for a couple of weeks. We have been fighting to clean up bad data from the day we arrived. After a couple of hours there, we went to the cottages to drop off our stuff and pick up one more guy. We packed four into the back seat of a Lacetti. That is a car the size of a Chevy Cruze. You do what you have to sometimes. When we got to Andijon, our driver dropped us in town. We told him to enjoy the rest of his day and we would find our own ride back to the cottages.
We started with a money transaction. Our Korean friend had done it before and had a broker. He spotted us on the street and approached. We made a deal for 2350 cym per dollar. That was good enough for me so I changed a hundred. Remember the exchange rate published by the government is 1648. The variance is certainly worth having a broker on the street.
Next we headed into the Yangi Bizarre to do a little shopping. We went to see our favorite fruit vendor. She remembered us, as I expected she would. We bought our fruit with only a little negotiating. She did charge the first guy, who did no negotiating, 500 cym/kg more than the other two, for the same apples. She gave another guy a tangerine, in compensation. I guess she saw him coming and knew my Indian friend and I were not as much of a push over. She just put the lower price into the scale without saying a word. I told him as we walked out what had happened. He was not surprised. It was a difference in reality of about a quarter.
There was a crowd around us when we were doing business with her. Hard to understand why three Americans, a Korean and an Indian negotiating with a young Uzbek female fruit vendor would draw a crowd. One of the older ladies, maybe her Mother, was pushing me toward our vendor friend. It surprised me. When I looked at her she held up her left hand and with her right index finger and thumb stroked her left ring finger. I think the message was that I should be marrying this young girl. I put my arm around her and tried to let them know I already had a wife. The guys really teased me about what I was really in the market for today.
After the fruit purchases we went to get some nuts. The almonds are so good. We keep them in the office for folks to munch on during meetings etc. The merchant we generally do business with quoted us a price higher than our Indian friend was willing to pay. He is without question the best negotiator of the bunch. The guy started at 22,000 cym/kg. The counter offer was 16,000. We ended up buying a total of 3.5 kg for 17,000 cym/kg. It was a pretty brutal negotiation that could have gone either way. I am pretty sure when we first purchased these highest quality almonds we did pay 22,000. At any rate, we now have plenty of nuts, for a while. My friend who was taken by the fruit vendor did no better here. He paid 22,000 for a kg of raisins. The next guy got them for 16,000. Some people like the sport better than others.
After the fruits and nuts we all wanted some beverages. One loves the juice. One needs the coke. One got some tea and some beer. For me, a couple of bottles of a dry red Uzbek wine. Once we had all of our purchases, it was time for lunch. We were surprised to meet up with a guy from the plant, who had been sick much of the week. He joined us for lunch. UZ Turk was really packed today. I had something like chicken wings and some salad. Another guy had a spiced meat loaf. Our Korean friend had a barbecue chicken wrap that was excellent. Actually all of it was really good. It is an excellent place to eat.
Our friend from the plant, who is from Asaka, was in town for a haircut. I told him I really wanted one too. He called his barber and worked me in, even though it is a very busy day. We put the other 4 guys in a cab to the cottages and the two of us headed to the barbershop. When we stepped inside it was hot and humid. My glasses fogged up immediately upon entry. I felt a little disadvantaged as it was a new place full of people that I could not see. I got my glasses clear by using a shirt tail. Once I could see, I found myself not in a barbershop full of men but a salon full of women. The room was entirely pink with red and burgundy decorations. It was about 10 feet wide and 60 feet deep. The air was thick with the chemicals women use in such places. There was a manicure station and four stations for hair stylists. The only guy in there was working on a lady in the very last station. I waited near the door as my Uzbek friend went to speak with his "barber". He asked us to come back in 30 minutes. We agreed and went back outside. We just walked and talked. He and I know quite a bit about each other as he and I often lunch together. We did use a public bathroom. It cost 200 cym and you do not breathe through your nose in there. Real, real, real bad....
When the time came for us to return, we did. To our surprise, the guy we had made the appointment with just 30 minutes earlier was gone. There were no less than a dozen women in the shop. Many of them worked there and a few were customers. They were talking to my friend and he was translating, for me. He said they were excited about an American being in the shop. He said to me that he had told them I was married. He said one asked if I wanted another wife. It has really been a long time since I received two proposals for marriage, in one day or one anything. I gracefully declined, again.
A young lady offered to cut my hair. I agreed. She was meticulous. She used an electric clipper and a comb. There was no guard on the clipper. She did a good job but it took a long time. When she was done she brushed me with some talc and then washed my hair. Then she sat me in a different chair and blow dried it. Once dry she rubbed my head with some product called stick up. My friend said to give her 10,000 cym and she would be happy. She tried to give me 4,000 back. I refused and thanked her. Katta rahmat is the way you say thank you very much, in Uzbek.
I will post pictures again soon. Today the Internet was so slow I could not do my banking and I wrote this in MS Word hoping to be able to paste it into the blog writer. When you think your computer is slow you simply have no idea. It is time for me to head to bed. Since we have no gas I expect it to be a little cool in here tonight and a clod shower tomorrow. I have the window closed for the first time since I have been here. I tell you all this so when I tell you to be grateful, you understand why. You and I are blessed in so many ways that we do not even appreciate. Take time after you read this to think about how good your life really is and be grateful!
When I awoke on my birthday I had to trek through an inch of snow to get to Cottage K4, where the workout equipment is located. Yes I did start working out again. That is a good thing as I have more energy even though we still work dark to dark daily.
My birthday was fun. I did post a picture of me and my cake that day. I know most everyone saw it because of the number of FB posts. The ornaments on the sides and the shavings on top were chocolate. The cake was similar to a spice cake. It was triple layer with cream between the layers. The balls were also made of cream. It was very delicious. It was cool that a bunch of guys from all over the world wanted to celebrate with me.
When I was getting ready for bed I noticed that my phone had lost it's signal. I thought, that might not be such a bad thing as I figured there would be some FB posts wishing me happy birthday and commenting on the picture I had just posted. That was a good call. When I enabled my phone service again after I woke up the day after my birthday, there were 40 texts queued up. Most FB posts, others just texts. Lesson of the day: If you are ever on the opposite side of the world of most of your FB friends on your birthday, put the phone on airplane mode or you will not sleep well.
We ended the week by actually making schedule two days in a row and on Saturday produced enough to catch up to the number required for the month. Baring a catastrophe, we will make the February number.
Today we had some fun. We started out with a little time in the plant. It was good that we did. There were some mistakes in the system, which lead people to believe that we were out of a part to build the Matiz. When we did some digging we found enough for a couple of weeks. We have been fighting to clean up bad data from the day we arrived. After a couple of hours there, we went to the cottages to drop off our stuff and pick up one more guy. We packed four into the back seat of a Lacetti. That is a car the size of a Chevy Cruze. You do what you have to sometimes. When we got to Andijon, our driver dropped us in town. We told him to enjoy the rest of his day and we would find our own ride back to the cottages.
We started with a money transaction. Our Korean friend had done it before and had a broker. He spotted us on the street and approached. We made a deal for 2350 cym per dollar. That was good enough for me so I changed a hundred. Remember the exchange rate published by the government is 1648. The variance is certainly worth having a broker on the street.
Next we headed into the Yangi Bizarre to do a little shopping. We went to see our favorite fruit vendor. She remembered us, as I expected she would. We bought our fruit with only a little negotiating. She did charge the first guy, who did no negotiating, 500 cym/kg more than the other two, for the same apples. She gave another guy a tangerine, in compensation. I guess she saw him coming and knew my Indian friend and I were not as much of a push over. She just put the lower price into the scale without saying a word. I told him as we walked out what had happened. He was not surprised. It was a difference in reality of about a quarter.
There was a crowd around us when we were doing business with her. Hard to understand why three Americans, a Korean and an Indian negotiating with a young Uzbek female fruit vendor would draw a crowd. One of the older ladies, maybe her Mother, was pushing me toward our vendor friend. It surprised me. When I looked at her she held up her left hand and with her right index finger and thumb stroked her left ring finger. I think the message was that I should be marrying this young girl. I put my arm around her and tried to let them know I already had a wife. The guys really teased me about what I was really in the market for today.
After the fruit purchases we went to get some nuts. The almonds are so good. We keep them in the office for folks to munch on during meetings etc. The merchant we generally do business with quoted us a price higher than our Indian friend was willing to pay. He is without question the best negotiator of the bunch. The guy started at 22,000 cym/kg. The counter offer was 16,000. We ended up buying a total of 3.5 kg for 17,000 cym/kg. It was a pretty brutal negotiation that could have gone either way. I am pretty sure when we first purchased these highest quality almonds we did pay 22,000. At any rate, we now have plenty of nuts, for a while. My friend who was taken by the fruit vendor did no better here. He paid 22,000 for a kg of raisins. The next guy got them for 16,000. Some people like the sport better than others.
After the fruits and nuts we all wanted some beverages. One loves the juice. One needs the coke. One got some tea and some beer. For me, a couple of bottles of a dry red Uzbek wine. Once we had all of our purchases, it was time for lunch. We were surprised to meet up with a guy from the plant, who had been sick much of the week. He joined us for lunch. UZ Turk was really packed today. I had something like chicken wings and some salad. Another guy had a spiced meat loaf. Our Korean friend had a barbecue chicken wrap that was excellent. Actually all of it was really good. It is an excellent place to eat.
Our friend from the plant, who is from Asaka, was in town for a haircut. I told him I really wanted one too. He called his barber and worked me in, even though it is a very busy day. We put the other 4 guys in a cab to the cottages and the two of us headed to the barbershop. When we stepped inside it was hot and humid. My glasses fogged up immediately upon entry. I felt a little disadvantaged as it was a new place full of people that I could not see. I got my glasses clear by using a shirt tail. Once I could see, I found myself not in a barbershop full of men but a salon full of women. The room was entirely pink with red and burgundy decorations. It was about 10 feet wide and 60 feet deep. The air was thick with the chemicals women use in such places. There was a manicure station and four stations for hair stylists. The only guy in there was working on a lady in the very last station. I waited near the door as my Uzbek friend went to speak with his "barber". He asked us to come back in 30 minutes. We agreed and went back outside. We just walked and talked. He and I know quite a bit about each other as he and I often lunch together. We did use a public bathroom. It cost 200 cym and you do not breathe through your nose in there. Real, real, real bad....
When the time came for us to return, we did. To our surprise, the guy we had made the appointment with just 30 minutes earlier was gone. There were no less than a dozen women in the shop. Many of them worked there and a few were customers. They were talking to my friend and he was translating, for me. He said they were excited about an American being in the shop. He said to me that he had told them I was married. He said one asked if I wanted another wife. It has really been a long time since I received two proposals for marriage, in one day or one anything. I gracefully declined, again.
A young lady offered to cut my hair. I agreed. She was meticulous. She used an electric clipper and a comb. There was no guard on the clipper. She did a good job but it took a long time. When she was done she brushed me with some talc and then washed my hair. Then she sat me in a different chair and blow dried it. Once dry she rubbed my head with some product called stick up. My friend said to give her 10,000 cym and she would be happy. She tried to give me 4,000 back. I refused and thanked her. Katta rahmat is the way you say thank you very much, in Uzbek.
I will post pictures again soon. Today the Internet was so slow I could not do my banking and I wrote this in MS Word hoping to be able to paste it into the blog writer. When you think your computer is slow you simply have no idea. It is time for me to head to bed. Since we have no gas I expect it to be a little cool in here tonight and a clod shower tomorrow. I have the window closed for the first time since I have been here. I tell you all this so when I tell you to be grateful, you understand why. You and I are blessed in so many ways that we do not even appreciate. Take time after you read this to think about how good your life really is and be grateful!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)