Snow

From the Beijing Train Station to the corrupt police on the far Eastern route of the Russian Trans-Siberian Railroad, the 2008 movie Transsiberian was enjoyable to watch having dealt with many of the same problems…ok minus the kidnapping part.  Not so much for the plot as for the accuracy the movie portrayed when depicting a couples ride on a Chinese train and problems with Russian police.  Although we did not go on the Trans-Siberian…yet, the movie was thrilling to watch as an American couple from Iowa, Woody Harrelson and Emily Mortimer, left the Beijing Zhan (station) headed for Moscow via a 6 day journey on the Trans-Siberian Railway.  The train-station, gray colored everything, sleeper cars, and food carriages, were right on and I would believe it was filmed on location.

Emily Mortimer’s character was always planning a new route or travel adventure and walked around with a Cannon Digital camera around her neck throughout the whole film – which reminded me a lot of Lauren.  The broken sleeper-car knobs that wouldn’t turn off terrible Russian music, the shared cars with strangers, the rude and short tempered train attendants, drug smugglers, and corrupt cops were a direct parallel to our experiences en route from China through Kazakhstan to Uzbekistan.  Although the plot got extremely more creepy in comparison to the things that happened to Lauren and I, if you have traveled throughout the former Soviet Union, Russia, China by train, or are interested to see what it looks like, I think people would find certain aspects of this couple’s travel accurate.

Going through Kazakhstan we were hiding from the police as their boarded our train trying to avoid paying bribes, watching all the drug smugglers hide taped packages to their stomachs or under their beds, and arguing with the grumpy train attendants. Our train travel in China was pretty easy going and we had no problems, but the movie gave a good atmosphere to some of the fears you develop as you go into less safe areas ruled by corrupt cops and officials.

For a more detailed clip go to:  Transsiberian Part I – watch from 4:10 to about 9:00 to see a little bit of what it was like.

As we depart Central Asia, we’re hit with a bittersweet feeling partially of relief and partly of sadness. Central Asia is like no other place on earth. Check logic at the door, and reason as well sometimes. The people are so vastly different from one another between the Stans that each place is like stepping into an entire new continent. Some are friendly, helpful and kind while others are greedy, rude and unethical. Its a region that will test even the most tried of travelers, and will cause even the most devout to swear. At the same time, it houses some of the world’s most cherished relics, a complex and interesting history and some of nature’s most comical and magnificent structures. While in Central Asia we composed a few top ten lists, here they are, as we say adieu:

Top Ten Illegal Things We Saw in Central Asia:

• Illegal money changers with counterfeit bills
• Marijuana growing on the curb in Tashkent
• Drug deal exchanges in Bukhara
• Transporting illegal substances across borders
• Prostitutes all over Central Asia
• Bribing guards on trains, border crossings
• Dangerous driving, with no regard for safety
• Hassling tourists, foreigners
• Cops patting down travelers for money
• Camping on protected ruins

Top Five Things you Don’t Want to Hear while on rusted, Soviet Chairlift:

• “Is that a broken chair down there?”
• “I think the two seater in front of us is seating four.”
• “Are you wearing Birkenstocks?”
• “Thats definitely wreckage of a chair lift down there.”
• “…and now we have to get back down the same way.”

10 Most Difficult Things to Achieve in Central Asia:

• Getting a napkin out of the booby-trapped holders
• Crossing the street without losing a limb
• Hailing a cabby who will charge in local currency
• Avoiding food poisoning
• Conversing with anyone about Russia
• Mentioning America without getting a response of “George Bush, Michael Jackson or Michael Jordon” in return
• Finding a road without potholes
• Avoiding manty (meat dumplings)
• Changing money across currencies
• Finding shoes in any size above women’s 8

Top Five Strange Things We Heard at a Restaurant in Central Asia:

• “That guy is playing with his belly button.”
• “Last time we ate here, we didn’t get sick!”
• “Try the tongue.”
• “That guy is combing his stomach hair….”
• “Even the waitress looks like shes about to throw up.”

Top Five Strange Menu Items in Central Asia:

• Lamp Shish
• Banana Spleen
• Corn and Cancer
• Language Beef
• Two Generations
• Frog Paws
• Cinnamon of my Youth
• Seafood pizza with Fruit
• Beer: The Goner
• Fish on a Shish

Top Ten Strange Sites We Visited:

• Flaming crater called the “Gates of Hell”
• Sarcophagus of Daniel (13m long)
• The nodding donkey monument
• Mosque honoring Turkmen Dictator, not Allah
• Russian Orthodox Church in the desert with skull and bones
• Downed MiG plane on display in someone’s yard
• Snake infested section of Caspian Sea
• Torture chamber and bug pit where condemned lived for years
• “Big Mac” restaurant on top of a mountain (lamb burgers)
• Petrified dinosaur eggs in the desert

Top Five Things We’ll Miss About Central Asia:

• Friends
• Bazaars (Push-Push in particular)
• Camels, EVERYWHERE!
• 2000 year old ruins…everywhere
• Constant oddities making you shrug and say, “its CA!”

Yup, Central Asia is a strange and mysterious place! We loved our time in the region, despite a few down times (being shaken down by cops, bad border guards and dishonest cabbys). We were lucky to be able to spend over three months in the Stans!

The rest of the day, including two long walks through no-mans-land between customs in Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan seemed easy after dealing with the cab driver mentioned previously. Walking a few kilometers in the middle of the desert in June with backpacking gear on was tough, but actually enjoyable after dealing with the Uzbekistan cab drivers. We passed several truckers waiting for customs clearance at the boarder and approached two smiling Uzbek guards at the customs fence. They were very friendly and we completely unaware at what had just happened at the barbed wire fence just 20 minutes earlier. After some idle talk about America where we were from, enough for them to practice their English, they let us through the gate. I think that this was related directly to their liking of Lauren as I had heard horror stories about people waiting at the gate in the sun for hours before being allowed through. Luckily they really liked Lauren and opened the gates right away. We matched up our customs forms from when we entered, walked to another building, did a simple baggage check with another guard and were on our way down the pedestrian walk out of Uzbekistan.

The last Uzbek guard checked our passports and visas and opened another gate that led down a dirt road to nowhere. There was an unending line of trucks carrying shipping containers waiting to get through Uzbek customs and into Uzbekistan. This walk was even longer than the first. There were several women with young children walking down the road as well so we followed them. After about 20 minutes and a liter of water weight later, we arrived at a wooden guard tower with two Turkmen guards at the bottom. They checked out documents and on we went to Turkmen customs – which consisted of a simple concrete building with an exposed exterior hallway. This crossing was surprisingly easy. We basically walked right through after some minor paperwork and buying our registration cards ($10 for the card and $2 for the banking fee). This is real, as we needed them later to register at our friends house in Ashgabat. We negotiated a shared cab for $5 to Turkmenabat which took about 30 minutes and were then dropped of at the train station.

We had been told that there was a 4:00 PM train to Ashgabat from Turkmenibat daily. This was true when we arrived, but were told that familiar Central Asian (Russian) phase that tickets were HET or Finish. We were also told that we could not purchase train tickets for tomorrows train until 9:00 AM the next day. It was only 1:00 so if train tickets were already HET for the day, we figured they would be HET for tomorrow too after a $50 a night hotel stay. Instead, after a little bit of negotiation, we found a car to drive us to Ashgabat in 8 hours for $18 a person. This seemed much better than paying for a hotel in the off chance that we would actually get tickets the next day. The shared taxi was a very nice Accura with leather seats and air conditioning. We were a little shocked and thought that perhaps we overpaid. However, upon arrival in the outskirts of Ashgabat only 7 hours later, the other man who shared the cab ride with us paid close to the same fare. Even better, he spoke a little English and agreed to help us find where we needed to go.

There is not much to say about the car ride to Ashgabat as the back windows were tinted. Lauren got a lot of sleep and I read a book. I will say, that Turkmen hospitality and friendlyness has been amazing so far. This was a much needed releif after our month in Uzbekistan. There were no hidden fees or any scams, we simply exchanged money with the driver, shook hands with our left hand over our hearts (a Central Asia custom I’ve noticed so far) and said Rackmet (sp) which means thank you from Kashgar to Ashgabat apparently. Our friend’s place was easy to find as our jaws were dropped driving through Ashgabat, Turkmentistan – also called Absurdistan by many who visit – and it does not take long to understand why. White marbel palaces, streets filled with countless fountains, and absolutly ridiculous monuments erected by the notorious Turkmenbashi and his predecessors. Navigating by famous landmarks like 40 legs, the Ruhnama Monument – a monument in the image of the book which Turmenbashi wrote, and independence square. Needless to say, we showed up on our friends doorstep about 12 hours earlier than expected and were welcomed by surprised faces.

Strange sign

After recovering the cell phone in Bukhara, we decided it was time to move on as we had been in Uzbekistan for almost 25 days and in Bukhara for 7. We checked out of our hotel and we were not surprised when they tried to add on several different expenses that we had never agreed upon. After renegotiating what had already previously been negotiated and saying a farewell to Bukhara, we strapped on our packs and headed for the local bazaar to catch a marshutka (shared mini-bus) to Alat and then from Alat, to Farap – the border crossing into Turkmenistan.

We were immediately hassled by several taxi drivers saying they would take us all the way to Farap for 30, 40, and 50 USD. Eventually we found someone who offered 3000 SUM per person, which is what the cost should be for a shared cab. (This is equivalent to about 2 USD per person.) Multiple guide books confirmed this, as well as personal experiences earlier. To clarify we asked the driver to write it down and re-stated that this was for each person all the way to the border crossing. He nodded his head and wrote down 3000 SUM. This was a fair price for this ride as we paid the same for a ride to the bus station in Urgench from Khiva and the ride lasted the same amount of time. After about a half hour, we approached a road block with several soldiers sporting machine guns and a barbed wire blocking the way. Our driver crossed his arms together in the air making a giant “X” and said HET, pronounced “Knee-Yet”, which means no.

Immediately as we got out a huge group of people surrounded us trying to get us to take their cab for God knows what reason because it is a 1 km walk through the desert to get to the customs center from that location and cars are not allowed through. I handed the driver the 6000 SUM for the two of us and, just like I had expected – then came the scam.

Now before I go any further, I want to mentioned that I really enjoyed the sights and traveling in Uzbekistan. We have tried not to use our blog as a means of complaining or grumbling about the difficulties of travel. However, it is also necessary to give a fair account of our impressions as well. That said, Uzbekistan is one of the few places I have been in which I would recommend going with a tour group for one reason: money. Everything you do, comes down to it and it is exhausting to deal with in this country. You literally have to go through an entire menu, if they have one, and ask the price of everything before you order. Otherwise the bill will be outrageous. If you forget to ask the price of, lets say peanuts, you will have a bill that states 3 dollars for the meal and $10 peanuts. Moreover, you shake hands on a deal at a certain price and then get in the car 5 miles up the road the driver will ask for more money and then insinuate that if you don’t agree he will kick you out in the middle of nowhere. After 25 days of this bickering over every meal and ticket, I was a little burnt out and was not in the mood.

So as I handed the 6000 SUM to the driver, a puppy dog look came over his eyes, which was speaking, “Oh, no! What a terrible mistake has been made. I meant 30,000 not 3,000 sorry I left off a zero. Moreover, I mean 30,000 per person.” My patience was 100% gone. In a barrage of madness, in front of border security guards with automatic weapons, I threw down my bag and pulled out the notebook in which the driver had scribbled 3,000 SUM. He grabbed it out of my hands before the circle of other taxi drivers could see what he had written, took the pen, and added a zero to the end. After about 5 minutes of him yelling and kicking in the sand that he wanted 60,000 SUM. We grabbed our bags and headed for the border guards – who do not get involved in these sorts of squabbles. They visibly did not know what to do. Only about 18 years old, the guards looked at Lauren’s visa and passport and completely forgot to look at mine. Then we walked through the crossing.

By now, the mod of taxi drivers had dissipated but our cab driver pushed through the guards and followed us through the crossing. He started pulling at my pack to hold me back and yelling and screaming. I took out the rest of the SUM I had in my pocket, which I shouldn’t have, and offered him the remaining 12,000. At first he refused, but then he took it. Now, still grossly overpaid for the ride, he continued to follow us. He even stepped in front of me, glared, and then pushed me in the chest as hard as he could. I flew back a few feet, as I had about 80 pounds of gear strapped to my back. That was it. I turned around, stared at him. Unclipped my bag and let it drop to the ground. I walked right up to him nose to nose and treating him like an infant, pointed back to the barbed wire fence. As I stood there staring him in the face, three of the boarder guards raised their weapons and yelled at the man. He shrugged his shoulders and walked away laughing.

Mike

Somewhere in the ruins of the Urgench fortresses the cell phone dropped out of my side bag and into the hot, desert sand. It was not until we were half way back to Khiva in the car that I reached down in a panic and noticed the phone was gone. It could have fallen out anywhere! I grabbed my camera and flipped through the pictures, pausing at each picture of me wearing the side bag and then zooming in to see if the phone was still a black bulge in the side pocket. With this method, I managed to narrow down the area where the phone was probably lost to two giant fortresses and a long dirt road path leading to a lake, an area covering several miles, at the least, and several hours in the opposite direction.

I sat back in the seat as the car bounced across uneven roads toward Khiva, and after a while whispered to Mike that the phone was gone. Strangely enough, the girl next to me, Olga, was going through her bag in a rising panic and eventually announced that her mobile phone was missing! We tore through the car, reaching under the back seat (I think something is living down there!) and under the front seats, shoving empty water bottles around as we peered underneath—neither phone was located.

Back in Khiva, Olga and I sauntered off with our heads hung low and waved goodbye at the driver, whose puzzled look Mike tried to quell with an explanation and a good-natured shrug. While Olga later found her phone in her room, I was not so lucky. Here is what became of the phone after it was deposited unknowingly in the sand.

Back in Bukhara two days later I got word that someone had found the phone and pushed redial: which directed them to a friend of ours in Tashkent. I heard all this via email, where my friend eagerly explained that they were waiting in Khiva with the phone for us! Khiva is 5 hours away and we had just come from that direction, luckily the finders of the cell phone were coming to Bukhara in a few days. I tried to call the phone but the call would not go through, I tried from various phones in Bukhara and ran around the city pouring sweat until one fluent local explained that I was trying to call an in-network phone from an out-network number—“Impossible!” So, I located an in network phone (which, incidentally, is a bee-line cell phone) then called only to get the message, translated to me, “Your phone is power off. Have a nice day!”

Before the phone mysteriously went to power off I had sent a few messages through to my friend in Tashkent about the tentative plant to exchange the phone, he had, in turn, passed parts of the message on the finders of the cell phone in Khiva. Long story short, we did not know if or when they would be in Bukhara, but Mike and I waited by Lyabi-Hauz pool from 5:30 until 9:00pm for two nights in a row wearing the clothes described to the finders, and running around to every British face asking if they had an excess of cell phones. We now have a reputation as crazies in Bukhara who wear the same clothing multiple days on end and rush around to every occupied table with wide, hopeful eyes.
It was heartbreaking to lose the phone and then the brief, glimmer of hope that had us running around in 90 degree weather and waiting anxiously by the pool for hours on end has left us even more defeated and cell phone-less.

This story, miraculously, has a happy ending. The British girl called in one final attempt as she was leaving Bukhara and left the phone at her hotel’s front desk. She even paid for that phone call since the battery on the cell phone had died. What a nice lady! And now we have the cell phone back and a great saga to tell of our first lost and found item.

Lauren

Shopping in old town Bukhara is an expensive endeavor. A meter of fabric is $8 USD, “hand made! Very beautiful!” while a T-shirt is $20USD and a carpet over $1000. Looking around in the souvenir bazaars there was nothing I could afford other than overpriced postcards. We decided to walk to the local’s market to see what locals paid for things and to stock up on snacks for the long train ride to Ashgabat.

The local market, the Kolkhozny Bazaar, is located on the extreme west side of town down several long, narrow roads closed to thru-traffic. We hiked down there one afternoon in sweltering heat, on the off chance that we could afford a token of our travels from this gathering of merchandise.

Walking into the bazaar from the eastern side we were shocked by the smell of rotting flesh. It was thick in the area and palpable—it is a smell unlike any other and one that will stay with you once you encounter it. We pushed through the smell and emerged on the other side in a matrix of alleyway shops all made of white plastic with snickers advertisements in the windows.

Walking through the matrix we came to an exit and walked out into a vast courtyard with the longest strip mall we’d ever seen in the distance. This strip mall housed food, clothing, shoes, household supplies and baby toys: everything you could imagine. It extended from one horizon to the other as far as we could see. We picked a direction and walked until our feet were sore, Mike bought a pair of 6000CYM plastic sandals and I was ecstatic to find that 2 meters of rich, patterned fabric cost 2,400CYM ($1.20USD). I bought some fabric and we picked out snacks for the border crossing and headed back to the hotel with our arms loaded down.

Back in old town prices for escalated the closer to the town center you got, and we smiled with the knowledge of our secret bazaar on the western fringes of Bukhara.

Bukhara market

For those of you who got the reference above to Tolkien, I salute you. (and for those of you who got the ‘I salute you’ reference from Gladiator, I…. well, awesome.) Having travelled from Bukhara to Khiva, we decided after several days in the walled city to return to Bukhara before making our grand entrance into Turkmenistan.

The route from Khiva to Bukhara, which we had done not a week earlier, was easier on the return as we knew quite well what to expect: cramped conditions, sweltering heat, screeching Islamic music, a driver screaming on his cell phone, and multiple security stops. We bargained for quite a while with various drivers until finally one agreed, the largest and most intimidating of the lot, to take us for $18 USD a piece. We had heard others bargain for $15 a person, but standing in the 90 degree heat with all of our bags on did not inspire me to drag out the process. We later found out that the average price is $20 a seat, so we had done well to get $18 for a 5 hour cab drive across the desert.

You may be curious as to why I’m quoting in US dollars. Believe it or not, Uzbekistan runs nearly entirely on US currency. Everything in Samarkand, Bukhara and Khiva is quoted in US prices and you negotiate in dollars, even if you end up paying in CYM (the Uzbek currency). We wrote before that there were two rates of exchange in Uzbekistan, the official rate (1,400 CYM to the dollar) and the black market rate (1,800 CYM to the USD). Everyone uses the black market rate when talking about USD. It is amazing to me that everyone in this country uses the dollar. It’s a testament to how stable they think the US is in comparison to the limited faith they have in their own economy. You’d think the government here would focus on stamping out the USD in the country, as it’s a bit embarrassing for them as well. However, at a restaurant owned by the president’s daughter, prices are in Euros, not CYM—not a very good sign.

This time we were ready for the ride to Bukhara from Khiva, and I had taken a Dramamine in preparation for the bouncing (the cars have no shocks) and jolting that would occur for the next 5 hours. What I wasn’t ready for was a neon-yellow bee to fly into the window, into my shirt and sting me in the ribs. This neon buzzing machine scared the hell out of me for its intimidating color and twitching buttocks. Luckily, I’m not allergic to bees, having been stung literally hundreds of times in my life—twice already on this trip. We arrived without other incident and met up, accidently, with the German-Russians (whom we had met on the fortress adventure in Khiva) at Lyabi-Hauz, where they told us that Olga was popped on by a bird as the car sped through the desert (which is considered good luck in Russia!) while the window was mostly rolled up.

One of the Elliq-Qala

Just a daytrip away from Urgench or Khiva, the “Golden Ring of Ancient Khorezm,” should not be missed. Although some may disagree or are less willing (Lauren) to venture out into the middle of the Southern desert of Karakalpakstan in the middle of June… I was excited. If you can find enough people to fill up a car, for as little as $15 per person, you have a driver for the day to take you out to all of the ancient, but recently rediscovered, ruins of the ancient Khorezm. Now deemed UNESCO heritage sites, the sand castle forts just north of Urgench vary in size, but several are over 2000 years old and still standing. All of the names of the fortresses are in Karakalpak, so please bear with us for pronunciation and translations. We were fortunate enough to have some great company for this trip, Olga and Torstan, both who translated from Russian into German and then into English. Therefore, some things may have been lost in translation, but perhaps they may see this post and add some extra details in the comments.

After a few hours of driving and crossing a temporary bridge over the Amu-Daria – which flooded unexpectedly and not in aid of the withering Aral Sea – we arrived at the fort of Guldursun. All that we left of Guldursun was the massive city wall around the city, still intact enough to walk on top of the wall. According to our guide, until about a century ago, tunnels led from the nearby village under the wall and into the ancient city fortress. Guldursun even has a Karakalpakstan Romeo and Juliet..ish fable.

The fortress and the nearby city were feuding – probably over tax issues. However, a young man from inside the fortress was deeply in love with a young woman named Guldur. Guldur lived outside the fortress walls in the nearby town. Each night the young man would leave the gate (or possibly secret tunnel passage) open for Guldur to come see him. Distraught over their love, but from two feuding families, the young man agreed to leave the gate open for Guldur. Betrayed, the city stormed the fortress and both Guldur and the young man were beheaded outside the gates. The city / fortress now has the name Guldursun.

The fortress of Qoy Qyrylghan Qala, (4th century BCE) which translated to something like “goat death fort,” has some disputed historical attachments. It is, however, the oldest fort in the region so far discovered. The fortress contains several dugout compartments in which archeologists have discovered hundreds of goat / sheep skeletons. Locals claim that farmers kept their flocks there and a flood caused them to drown. However, some archeologists believe it may have been a pagan ritual temple. This was off the beaten track but still had several pottery shards and fragments sticking out of the mud.

One of the most impressive of the forts was the Ayaz – Qala, which is near a yurt village on Lake Achka-Kul. This is actually a collection of three forts with still accessible tunnels and mud bricked hallways. This fort offered amazing views of the lake and the lower surrounding forts as well as the road to nowhere, which is 400 km of nothing until one reaches Kazakhstan. However, my personal favorite was the Toprak Qala. The Toprak Qala was a massive complex that was the temple complex of Khorezm rulers in from 300-400 C.E. This qala had massive storerooms, streets, doorways, and rooms that were still intact. It was an amazing experience to look over the fort from the wall and see where the top had collapsed into hidden chambers below that have yet to be excavated. Full rooms were intact with visible fireplaces dug into the walls. The Elliq-Qala were definetly the highlight of the area and there was undiscovered history below our feet as we walked around inside of some of the oldest ruins on earth.

On our drive back, we stopped near on the of “Virgin Lands Campaign’s” canals – which has diverted the water away from the Aral Sea – and went swimming in the cold branch of the Amu-Darya.

Khiva was once renowned for its exotic and plentiful slave trade along the silk route. Slaves were captured in distant lands and marched across the harsh desert to Khiva, where they were put on display and sold. The slaves were usually from neighboring countries (in modern lingo) or from opposition regions, but generally from within Central Asia. As you enter the city from the east gate you are reminded of its ancient trade. The east gate is a long tunnel with prison cells on both sides that could hold up to seventy people per cell. To enter the market people had to pass through this tunnel of slaves, where sellers would shout out bargain deals on humans. Once in the east gate you were routed to the main bazaar area (although today there is a restaurant blocking the direct path) where you could buy vegetables and fruits, but also livestock and handicrafts.

If you were to enter the city from the west gate you might have a totally different experience in Khiva. This is where grand entrances are made, as this is the largest and most stately entryway into Khiva. The west gate enters near the Khiva Ark, which is where the ruling family lived. The multi-story complex they occupied boasts some of the most fascinating architecture in Central Asia. At the base of the Ark was the prison (of which we took a modern-day tour). The prisons in Khiva were never full for long, the reason being that the rulers employed professionals to do away with the prison’s inhabitants in ever more gruesome and creative ways. For example, a woman and man found to be in an unmarried relationship were killed, naturally, but here is the ‘Khiva catch’: The man is slowly hung from a platform in the city square while the woman is buried in the square up to her head and then slowly sawed in half while the dying man watched. In another twisted punishment, a woman who commits a crime is put in a bag full of cats (Mike thought they were snakes) and then the bag is hit with a bat. Finally, men are buried alive vertically, with their feet sticking up into the city square as a reminder. In Khiva, they were on the one strike system.

If you enter from the south gate, as we did, you will have a rather simple experience as that is where many locals chose to put their modest dwellings. Once inside the rather non-descript gate you will be greeted by local stray dogs and cats, and can peruse the alleys talking with the children. If you head west you’ll find the city’s graveyard, which is a cemetery that scales up the side of the city wall, the city’s oldest locally used mosques and medrassas are here. If you head east from the south gate you’ll find a long winding road that leads to more housing.

Finally, the north gate. In modern times this is the transportation hub, with buses to and from neighboring cities. There is little of interest other than a small restaurant outside the walls. In ancient times this gate served a different purpose: sanitation. The city was once fueled by a canal system bringing water in and sewage out: this was the out. There was also a pool outside the north gate where people could bathe and cleanse themselves as well as take a short-cut to the bazaar. This was the most lively and active gate for locals still living in the city and tourists trying to get out. From here you can also climb up on the twenty foot wall of the city and take a semi-circular tour of the city from above.

Khiva is a must-see on the silk road for its absurdities, its amazing architecture and the extreme dichotomy of the walled city. Owing much to its importance as a trade center until recent times, and then to the Soviet preservation of the city, Khiva has remained relatively unscathed by the 21st century (though you can find internet near the minaret by the west gate).

Khiva Shared Taxi Ride

Having decided to leave Bukhara, we endeavored to find a way to Khiva, a city on the western side of Uzbekistan. There was a train, but it took 24 hours and would depart from a city an hour from Bukhara at 3:00am. If one wanted to jump a bus to Khiva, you should wait on the side of the street and wave down passing busses and inquire if they were headed towards the west. The third and final option was to hire a shared taxi, which is to say that one driver will sell seats in his car and leave when all the seats are full. Our B&B owner knew a man who was leaving for Khiva that afternoon at 5:00pm, so we said we’d tag along for $18 USD. It would be a five hour ride.

The driver arrived and was a giant man with a square jaw and veins protruding from his forearms. HE had already found another local man heading to Urgench, a city near Khiva, and suggested we either pay for the empty seat or wait at the bus station to find a fourth person. We opted for the later. The car itself was a tiny Nissan with no seat belts and back windows that did not budge. There were no head rests and the air conditioner had been removed to make way for a large CD player, which jiggled around in the dash board while we drove. At the bus station we picked up a scrawny fourth traveler, who looked sickly and slightly drunk. We peeled out of the bus station, sending rocks flying up behind us. The driver and the two local passengers then did a short prayer together using the phrase, “inshallah” which means, “God willing.” This did not seem like something a driver should say about a straightforward drive to another city, they all bowed together and did the traditional prayer gestures (note that we had not stopped the car and now the driver was closed-eyed doing 100kph).

What should have been a straightforward ride turned out to be a test of my inner most patience. We were stopped by cops seeking bribes as well as several internal customs and border checks (regional rather than national). Before and behind our car people were crying as the seats were ripped out and their baggage overturned. For some reason, perhaps the fact that our driver knew every guard along the route, our car was sparred.

After 4.5 hours in the car we stopped and the driver told us we were then in Urgench. He told us to get out and threatened to leave us where we had stopped, which was in the middle of nowhere at a local family’s home and diner. We got on the phone right away with the lady from the B&B in Bukhara. She saved the day and negotiated for the driver to take us from where we were directly to the front door of the hotel we indicated for $5 USD. Seeing little alternative we agreed, though the extra $5 was pure robbery. Once at the hotel in Khiva, though, he demanded $5 a person, not $5 all together, and made an ugly grimace with his misshapen head as he continued to stick out his fist for more money. It was at this point that I lost it and barked out a stream of unintelligible information to this man and demanded that he get in his rickety little car and drive off before I really got angry. He thought this was cute, but seeing as veins were now popping out of my forehead he got in his car and left. The owner of the hotel demanded a ridiculous sum to spend the night, and I also snapped on her and told her I thought that the money grubbing was getting out of hand. We ended up paying $10 USD for the night at the hotel.

In all, it was a great test of patience for me, while Mike’s mid-western charm was turning from charming to placating.