Of 17 hour Uzbek train journeys, broken English and the curiosity of strangers
This is part 2 of the story. For the full context, read the part 1, which tells you what I experienced in the first few hours on a second class train compartment in Uzbekistan.
Post the ‘snack’, I was just sitting and reminiscing about the wonderful 2 weeks I had spent in Uzbekistan. From the corner of my eye, I saw a head pop out. A young girl said “I study English”.
It was a mix of genuine surprise, relief and laughter on my part. For the rest of the compartment, it was a coup. A wave of murmurs rippled through. In a bogey of about 80 people, they had found the only Uzbek who spoke English. They can now finally talk to this Hindustani, ask all their curious questions, and know what’s it like to visit other countries. None of them had ever left Uzbekistan, and had only seen foreigners passing by in the city — for them this was their first conversation with a foreigner.
The first thing they asked for was my passport. Typically, as an Indian, you guard your passport with your life — knowing that the loss of one would send you into a tizzy, running from pillar to post to get a new one. I only give my passport to people with some form of authority. However, having traveled through Uzbekistan for two weeks, I had no hesitation in giving it out. In 15 minutes, my passport was passed around and everyone knew my name!
Curiosity-1, Language Barrier-0
The questions meanwhile flew thick and fast, and the poor girl was having a tough time translating as she had only begun to form sentences in English.
“Do you like Uzbekistan? Will you come again? Which city do you like the most ?”
(My answer was Khiva, which is a part of the Khorezm province, and pretty much my whole compartment was Khorezmi, so up went another cheer!)
And in true Asian fashion, soon the questions became personal
“Are you married?
Why are you not married?
When will you get married?
How many days does a wedding last in India?
Do you think Uzbek women are beautiful? (Answer is absolutely yes)
Who is more beautiful? Uzbek or Indian women” (The correct answer always is the women of whatever country you’re travelling in)
And soon, they ran out of questions, more so because they could not communicate well. They were a little sad that the conversation had dried up. The disappointment was evident on their faces. And what kind of a traveler would I be, if I let me hosts be disappointed!
And I brought into play my ultimate conversation starter — pictures. I took out my phone and showed them pictures of my mum and sister. Why? Because no matter where in the world we go, family continues to be the cornerstone of our happiness. There are few people outside of our families, into whom we are deeply invested. And I am yet to travel and experience a culture, where a conversation about family has not brought down barriers.
My phone was passed around, and then they whipped out theirs and told me all about their families. They asked me about the Rakhi I was still wearing, the festival of Rakshabandhan, the kada I got from the Golden Temple, which surprised them as I was Hindu and wore a kada which represented a different religion. We spoke of multitude of things then — all in broken English. And even though the language barriers were frustrating sometimes, it was all worth it they understood me completely, their faces lit up. All through the trip, I was a little unhappy with the fact that my interaction with locals was limited. Fate intervened and I knew I had signed off from Uzbekistan on a high!
This post is a part of the larger series of posts under ‘Tales from the Silk Road’. Follow me for my stories on travel in Central Asia.
