I’ve talked way too much on this blog about how much I prefer taking marshrutkas and buses to riding in taxis. But, sometimes, you can’t get away from the fact that taxis are the only way that you’re going to get from point A to point B. Confounding all of this is the fact that just about every city in the former USSR has a different approach to taxis. Here’s a rough guide on navigating the major taxi systems of Kyrgyzstan (plus Almaty and Dushanbe). Continue reading “The Secret To Kyrgyz Taxi Fares”→
The other day, I was on my way to an evening at Public Pub, which is this lovely Irish pub (of which there are, unbelievably, two in downtown Dushanbe) where we like to have a beer every so often. As usual, I stood on the side of Rudaki, waiting patiently for a car (or even better, a Lada) drive up with a nice big laminated “3” in the front window. In minutes I was speeding down the road in my own private Mercedes (for the grand cost of 3 Somonis, or about 60 US cents), when we were flagged down again. I watched incredulously as three other men my age climbed in and sat on the bench next to me, two more crammed into the front seat, and three others climbed in on top of us, to put a total of what must have been 9 or 10 people in a relatively small sedan.
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It’s 3:10 in the morning, and in the starlight, I can make out the outline on the tablecloth of bread, teacups, a tub of Turkish Nutella, and two bowls of “shirchai,” a warm soup made from whole milk, butter, and tea leaves. I sit in the darkness with my host grandmother, and as I eat my fill of the smorgasbord, I can hear the soft clinking of forks, knives, and spoons against bowls and plates across our neighborhood and across Dushanbe, the capital of the small mountainous republic of Tajikistan.
Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later, but I finally got sick. But the ever-discussed “Tajik Tummy,” the fear of which has been struck into us for over a month now as one by one each of us has fallen, is quite an adventure to behold here in the global capital of gastrointestinal illness. Continue reading “Attack of the Tajik Tummy”→
Remember how I was waxing poetic about Dushanbe’s marshrutka system? I really glossed over a lot of the other routes of transportation. In particular, I did not do justice to Dushanbe’s beautiful rusty old trolleybus network. My love for this relic of Soviet Russia has grown many times like flower in pot. These elegant green and white and iron oxide colored buses quickly whisk people from one stop to the next, manned by a driver and a fare collector who rides in the door and tells the driver whether to stop and mercifully wait for people running for the bus or to drive by completely without stopping. In general, they are far more eager to take an extra one Somoni fare from a passenger than to maintain a “schedule,” though, so I rarely miss them like in the US. Here are some of my favorite stories about the trolleybuses so far.
Many in our Tajik classes are not too thrilled to be diverting attention to the local dialect of Persian here in Tajikistan. As security studies majors, they see it as a little-needed language that will not help them outside of communicating with their host families here. When their hair falls out because they couldn’t read the label on a shampoo bottle, the rest of us will be laughing, but in all honesty, I actually really enjoy our Tajik classes, partially because most of my language practice here is actually in Tajik, not Farsi, and partially because our Tajik teacher is so hysterically funny. Continue reading “In Tajikistan, “It’s A Thing” Is A Thing”→
Two parts Olympic Opening Ceremony, one part Soviet-style nationalist rally, one part Beyoncé concert
Yesterday was by far one of the most spontaneous and interesting days we have had since arriving in Tajikistan. June 27th is National Unity Day, and marks the anniversary of the signing of the peace accord that ended Tajikistan’s brutal civil war that devastated the country from 1992-1997. On that day 16 years ago, representatives from the government and the opposition met in Moscow under UN supervision to sign an accord and begin a process of reconciliation that seems to me to have brought a national pride and unity to the country. I’m sure that somewhere, people are unhappy, but that’s the way that countries work. In any case, it is an important day to Tajiks, and serves as a solemn reminder of their country’s suffering on its journey to independence. Continue reading “Tajik National Unity Day”→
I’m actually shocked that I’ve been able to get so many blogs up this week. When we first arrived in Tajikistan, we traveled for two days without really any internet, then had some slow internet at a hostel where we spent the first morning. From that Thursday until Monday, we did not access the internet in any form. It was some serious cold turkey quitting going on. But, when we finally did have access to the internet, actually loading a page was another issue entirely. Continue reading ““Wow, this internet is faster than dial-up!””→
Dushanbe is a small city, but it’s even easier to get around than you might think. Everything is only a few blocks off of the main drag, Rudaki avenue, and if that weren’t enough, there is a robust network of public (and easily accessible private) transportation.
Easily most visible are the rusty trolleybuses that ply Rudaki as bus route 1, many of which have a Tajik flag billowing on a little mast above the driver’s cab. You step on at any of three doors, and pay an attendant one Somoni for the ride. As many a Tajik have learned, you then assess where the sun has been hitting the vehicle most recently. Since Rudaki runs north-south, depending on the time of day, one side of the bus is considerably hotter than the other because it’s in direct sunlight. Maybe that’s why so many people looked at me strangely for the three days I chose to sit on the sunny side of the bus before realizing on the fourth that the right side of the bus was a good twenty degrees cooler. Continue reading “Managing Marshrutkas”→
