Tashkent Day Three

 I’m fed up with my face feeling stuffed full of the thick polluted air here. To get some relief I went to a local pharmacy for antihistamines. In my three minute walk to the pharmacy I saw five cops. That kind of heavy police presence skeeves me out. Lots of cops means trouble in the US and two on a block is supremely odd. The trip to the pharmacy required some Google Translate, I’m not in Greece and medical words don’t carry to Russian like they do in other languages. She sends me out with two containers and some basic instructions. One of them is a common non-drowsy antihistamine. Not a compound we use in the us but nothing crazy. The other thing is for IBS and binds to disturbances in your gut. I’m not sure how that landed in my bag but I decided to skip the Enterosgel. Maybe it’s a common scrip for allergies here but the English speaking side of the internet won’t match it to my ailments.

After doing drugs, I head out to the Museum of Applied Arts. This place is full of traditional Uzbek crafts. Soft goods like rugs and sozani. Wood carved doors and columns. Metal work coffee urns and jewelry. All fantastic. The people here have a long tradition of craft and make some truly outstanding things. Something I’ve noticed is that a place is not truly important here unless it has an intricately carved door. Blissfully they’re everywhere.

Just another gorgeous rug

After a nap, I head to Filmlab to buy some film. The camera is working well enough to run a roll through and see what I’m in for. Also, after all the help Asalya has given me, the least I could do is patronize her work. I walked the city, snapping my way around. The lens here is more zoomed than the digital I’m accustomed to so my natural framing instincts no longer work here. Also, this thing is totally mechanical lacking even a light meter. Luckily in 2026, you can reasonably meter light with a phone app and dial in your settings from there.

I snap for a while and run out of light for the day. Time for dinner. Being in the former SSR means there’s good Georgian food somewhere. I’m rewarded with a lovely salad with chilis and khachpuri. As much as I love khachpuri the chilis were more notable. Uzbek food is delicious but rich and about as spiced as a lunch in the Midwest. The little green angry plants were a welcome change. 

For a nightcap I went to my hotel. The lobby bar depressed me enough to not investigate the amenities further but lo and behold, there’s another bar! On the top floor overlooking Amir Timur square all the hotel’s guests congregate to drink beer. I settle down with a sarbast and hear German next to me. I interrupt them with a “Wo kommen sie?” Normally I’d never butt into a conversation but they’re as shocked to be hearing German here as I am. The two men are here on business setting up a large brewery in Tashkent. They are originally from Munich and Stuttgart. We have a lovely time talking about Germany, the US, and Tashkent. They are well traveled and through their work have seen every major city in the world with a large scale brewery operation. They spoke fondly of Wisconsin. Of course they like it there, everyone in the state came from Germany! When I finished my bottle they advised me that the bottled Sarbast was oxidized and no longer worth drinking and that I should switch to tap. Being that they are quite literally building the brewery that made it, I’m inclined to trust them. As the night winds on our English speaking social hour is joined by a coked out Scot who is in town for some sort of crypto programming gig, he was gregarious but cagey on details, and a much quieter Netherlander who I’ll probably get to know more about tomorrow night.