June 10, 2012

I got a good night sleep and was even fortunate enough to find the guesthouse owner awake and ready to make coffee for me. He handed me two cups and I promptly drank both of them while catching up on my emails. Eraj woke up a couple times as his phone kept going off, but quickly went back to sleep. One of the calls was from the taxi driver who had taken us to visit the Seven Lakes to inform us he was unable to drive us to Dushanbe. We finally got going around nine packing up, paying for the room and finding out where to catch the taxi back to the capital. I suggested we have a substantial breakfast before getting into the car as who knew if and when there might be a stop along the way. We went back to what had become my favorite place to eat: the restaurant attached to the market with the fabulous view of the distant brown hills and the tapchons to relax while watching people go by. Plov was already being served and I decided that was a good choice to have for the long trip along with salad, flat bread and more coffee. Eraj ordered a sambusa and half an order of shish kebabs.

We took another mini-van to what people called the bus terminal but which turned out to be a barren parking lot full of vehicles waiting to be filled with passengers. There was a grocery store behind that and another vile toilet, for which I had to pay, to service the passengers. Thankfully, a cluster of huge trees provided shade and a strong breeze while we waited. Eraj explained to the driver that I needed to seat at the front, but he claimed the seat had been reserved already by another woman. He relented when he was told I got car sick easily and wouldn’t be able to stand the five and half hour ride into Dushanbe sitting in the back. I quickly placed my shoulder bag in the seat and played my Mp3 for the one and half hour wait. Eraj ended up sitting in the third row of seats for his legs were too long to be sitting in the middle row. I felt bad for him as we could not talk except for some shouted sentences here and there, but I needed the safety of the front seat belt and the chance to take some photos here and there.

The driver stopped once at the same spot where four days before the female passenger had gotten sick and allowed his passengers to buy chacka, a milk drink similar to buttermilk which the locals kept cool by keeping the bottles submerged in a cold stream running nearby.  I had no desire to even try it. We had a second stop just outside Dushanbe so the driver could give the car the requisite wash and not be fined. I asked for a toilet at the car wash and was directed to go behind the wall where I dutifully squatted and relieved my bladder. One of the women riding with us had hair that was kinkier than mine, so when she started peppering Eraj about my origins, I took the opportunity to ask if anybody else in her family had the same hair texture as she did. She said no and told us she used to be made fun of at school because her classmates would tell her she was from Africa.

We got to Vadanazos without incident and I offered to pay for a taxi to take both of us home with our luggage. Eraj refused saying he’d insured I got to Ryan’s place in a taxi and he’d then get into a mini-van to get home. He then thought of his friend Daler and called him to come pick us up. Eraj had told me earlier that Daler had just become engaged to a girl he’d seen only once. His parents had entered into negotiations with her parents and the deal had been sealed just a few days ago. At this point, Daler’s parents have to gather $1,700.00 to give to the bride’s parents so she can prepare her trousseau including her wedding gown, several formal dressed with matching shoes and hats, duvets, cushions, pillows and any other items the newlyweds will need to set up household at his parents, house. The wedding will take place after the festival of Ramadan is over sometime in the early fall. I congratulated him on the news and asked him if his future wife was pretty and he nodded vigorously. I said that for that amount of money she better be.

Ryan was sitting outside eating snacks and surfing the Internet. I filled him in on my trips and we exchanged opinions on the different cities we both had visited coming to the conclusions that the best part about traveling in Tajikistan was the incredible landscape since the cities in themselves were neither attractive nor centers of culture. I bought some flat bread and ate it some of it, along with some plums Ryan had picked the day before, and headed for bed.