Sleepless in Uzbekistan

OK! I paid for a hostel dormitory and I slept on the street. Yes, on the street again. 2 nights on the street and 1 night in a park in Turkmenistan; then another night at a bus stop and here is another night on the street in Uzbekistan. What the hell I am doing now? Am I traveling or…sleeping?

Today’s event began when I decided to visit Savitsky Karakalpakstan Museum in Nukus – a museum reputedly to have housed the most remarkable and greatest art collection in Central Asia in the former Soviet Union, including some controversial paintings which were banned by Moscow as not conform to Soviet’s ‘Socialist Realism’ in Soviet time.

Savitsky Karakalpakstan Museum

The Bull by Vladimir Lysenko has been the major draw card of the museum

Initially, my plan was to travel from Ashgabat to Konye-Urgench in Turkmenistan and cross the border to Uzbekistan at Khojeli before making my way to Nukus. Apparently this is the best route. No backtracking. It wasn’t until I got my Turkmenistan transit visa that I realized I can only enter the country from Iran via Howdan or Saragt and I must leave the country to Uzbekistan at Farap. Yes, only Farap which is at the northeastern corner of Turkmenistan. This is the standard Turkmenistan’s transit visa. (It wasn’t until I reencounter the Japanese couple who has been traveling for 2 years that I realized it’s totally possible not to follow the entry/exit points written on the visa! Damn it!). I thought I’m giving up Nukus until I have somehow made my way to Khiva where Nukus came to my mind again. Nukus is ‘only’ about 150km away from Khiva.

So I was on a intercity bus to Nukus after taking a marshrutka from Khiva to Urgench and another citybus to the bus station. The 4-hour ill-fated bus eventually dropped me somewhere on the street in Nukus before continuing its way to the north. It was 2.00pm. It took me some efforts to find my bearing, as well as the museum’s.

I’m not an art person though I always pretend to be oneJ. While appreciating numerous pieces of art in the museum until I dropped, I found it literally not as exotic and spellbound as the rumors go. This is traveling. You will never know until you get there and get disappointed there. Only a few pieces of the so-called ‘lost-art’ intrigued my curiosity and interest. Perhaps I’m literally not an art person.

It was 5.00pm when I walked out from the museum, simply because it closed at 5 and I wanted to fully utilize the every second in the museum considering its expensive entrance fee as well as all the hardship getting there.

So there wasn’t any public transportation back to Urgench, let alone Khiva. I knew it! I just knew it! I just didn’t want to face it because sometimes, if you have to ascertain everything before going, then you will never go. To try my luck, I switched to a shared taxi station around 6 km from the town. Yaya..God blessed me! There was a taxi waiting for the last passenger before leaving to Urgench but they wanted more from me because I’m a tourist. Damn it. I’m a stubborn person probably because I’m not an art person.. So I sat on the kerb, trying to beg some sympathies. Yes, nobody cared about me and I saw the shared taxi leaving to Urgench, without me.

After 2 hours of self-sympathized, failing to figure out how to bring myself back, a private minivan passed by and asking secretly for those who was self-sympathizing on the street, as not to irritate the taxi drivers. Well, of course I hopped on but it only went as far as Beruni where I have to take another taxi to Urgench and then another one to Khiva. I knew it and I still hopped on, at least it would bring me as near to Khiva as possible. It was 10.30pm when I reached Beruni. The private taxi there was very keen on seeing me. Eyes wide open with money sign in both. They wanted an outrageous $40 for a mere 25km ride to Urgench. I pointed my finger to him and made two circles beside my head, telling him he was crazy, before making a gesture to tell him that I’d rather sleep on the street.

So, I slept on the street. Damn it.

The wind was surprising cold. Nobody cared about me. Nobody threw sympathy on me. I tried to walk somewhere further in the dark to hitchhike but was then driven back by all those offensive-like dogs.

I know I’m a guy but I still felt like wanting to cry out loud.