Tashkent Day Four

 Yesterday when walking the city I’d spotted a small cafe that proclaimed it was selling coffee, French pastries, Korean desserts, and New York bagels. In that moment I realized I hadn’t had a bagel since leaving London and that a chewy hunk of boiled dough sounded nice. Adding to that, this city having a decent Russian population means that any preserved fish will be worth eating. Lucky for me, this also provided an excuse to sleep in late enough to miss the buffet at The Hotel Uzbekistan. Not a great loss.

This is the first bagelry I’ve been to that doesn’t have an everything to sell. They did have fig, which was not going to meld with my savory mood but is definitely in my mental notes as a good idea. I ordered a plain with lox and the lovely spread came out. Plated open face, cream cheese, thick shiny lox, four of the biggest capers I’ve seen, a trimming of fresh dill, and a lemon. I basically inhaled the thing. This was not a New York Bagel. No toasting, no sandwich, and the bread was soft not chewy. This was actually a much closer relative to a west coast style bagel, suits me just as well since that’s how we do it where I live. Itch, scratched.

I spent the rest of the morning wandering Tashkent looking for things to fill the rest of my film roll. Naturally I wound up at Chorsu Bazaar for most of it. The city is lovely and clean but doesn’t present much to photograph. There’s always a leafless tree in the way and some awkward viewing angle. Chorsu is full of chaos and composes quite easily. I filled the roll and started to wind. Lots of tension and then none, never a good sign. I spun the takeup knob and spun and spun. Nothing. I made my way back to Filmlab for development.

Asalya was there and kind enough to not make fun of me for needing her to pull my roll out in the darkroom. As my suspicions confirmed, I had failed to properly disengage the film advance sprockets and split the film in two while attempting to rewind the roll. We said our goodbyes. She insisted on not charging for the development and sending me out with a roll of pain. Pain is a film stock that Filmlab has spooled up in house. The name is a joke, shooting film is pain. Unfortunately I am beginning to understand. If any of the shots turn out, I’ll drop them in a later blog post.

On the way back to the hotel I picked up a new neck strap for the camera, the original Soviet made leather strap is not trustable anymore. I also swung by a grocery store for some pomegranate soda. This is everywhere here, why don’t they sell it in the US?

One nap later and it was time for my last supper in Tashkent. I settled in more Georgian food, it’s just delicious and the quality here beats what I can get back home by a long shot. For desert I found a bakery open late that had medovik, a Russian honey cake that is nearly impossible to get where I am. A real treat.

I returned to The Hotel Uzbekistan’s 17th floor bar for a nightcap, after all the Germans insisted I join them again. They were nowhere to be found so I sat alone at the window with my book. It didn’t take long for me to hear native English being spoken next to me. In this part of the world, that’s reason enough to join in.

George and Eve are in town for an academic conference to discuss Central Asia. Eastern and western folks skating a room and exchanging ideas, the kind of stuff that humanity is best at. George is from the UK, Eve’s upbringing was split between France and the US. They are both exceptionally good looking, well read, kind, and mildly mannered people. In fact, they are without a doubt the most profoundly good looking, well read, kind, and mildly mannered people I have met in my travels. If I was hiring I would snap them up as quick as I possibly could. On an unrelated note, they also asked me for the link to this blog.

George and Eve have spent plenty of time in this part of the earth and have a lot to share about its quirks and hopes for the future. What makes the region tick? What do the people want? That sort of thing. After a round up top, they invite me to a hangout they’ve found in the city. This was against my better judgment since I had an 8 am flight the next day and we were only setting out at 1 in the morning. Naturally I came with. Star Bar is buried in a basement abutting his royal majesty The Burger King’s Burger Embassy. The bartender takes our orders and Eve’s beer comes out with a straw, in this part of the world it is a gesture of hospitality to supply these for ladies drinking beer. After a round I’m wearing out and in need of rest. Two hour’s worth of beauty sleep before my flight.

Tashkent is an odd place. Highly cosmopolitan, you can get anything you’d reasonably want here. It is clean, safe, and (for a western wallet) incredibly affordable. Everyone told me that I could skip it but after four nights, I feel like I’ve barely scratched the surface. I barely digested this city, part of that is because I spent a lot of my time here on the camera hunt. Part of that is because I didn’t make as much of an effort to dive into local culture. It can be easy in a large city to just engage in the sort of pleasures I’d take part in back home. After a scoop of pecan praline at the local Baskin Robbins I realized I was guilty of this. I feel like I know what Tashkent is like to pass through but not actually to be in. Regardless, I’d go back. The metro is clean, affordable, and gorgeous. The locals are friendly and easy to interact with, English or no. The expats have interesting stories. The Russian tint is fascinating to me as someone who doesn’t typically experience that sort of thing.

Next trip, Central Asia again?