Results tagged “Uzbekistan”

Having seen all that Shymkent has to offer, I decide to head to Tashkent, Uzbekistan. There’s a sign for Tashkent next to the Bejan bazaar, conveniently located next to the Avtovokzal (bus, marshrutka and shared taxi stop) and so I aim to get there.

I hop on the first bus with a sign for the bazaar and after some time the attendant on the bus asks me where I plan to get off. Bejan bazaar I reply only to have her inform me that the bus won’t be going there. So much for trusting signs indicating where the bus is going.

Conveniently though, where I do get off also happens to be an Avtovokzal. Shymkent has close to a dozen of these, a real nightmare for travellers, especially those not familiar with the language. Since there are no marshrutkas standing in the Tashkent stand, I walk up to the first one I see and ask them about getting to Uzbekistan.

Within five minutes I’m on a marshrutka bound for somewhere close to the border from where I should be able to find another car. One of the older motherly types takes pity on me, speaks with all the passengers and says that we’re making a detour to the border. Woohoo!

Sitting next to me for the trip is an interesting character aka MBG (Misinformed Bus Guy). Our conversation goes like this:

MBG: Where are you from?

Me: Australia.

MBG: The country with the kangaroos.

Me: Yeah, great food.

MBG: Do you drink their milk?

???

Me: It’s winter in Australia.

MBG: Interesting… What year is it in Australia?

???

MBG: What’s the military service like in Australia?

Me: There is no compulsory service.

MBG: Then if you have no army, won’t your neighbours invade?

Me: We have an army. We’re neighboured by oceans. The only dangers there are sharks and beached whales.

MBG: I’d be careful, if the sharks know you’re country is undefended, they could invade.

???

MBG: Have you been to the USA?

Me: No, not yet.

MBG: Did you know there’s a state where it’s completely illegal to drive cars? Everyone rides on bicycles and horses and cows.

Me: I highly doubt this.

MBG: It’s true, my friend went there last year. He also told me there’s a state where everyone has to wear a sash indicating their ethnicity.

???

MBG: Can I get a job in Australia?

Me: What are your skills and qualifications?

MBG: I almost finished school.

Me: Do you speak English?

MBG: No.

Me: You can work in a call centre. :D

At this point we reach the border and everyone on the bus wishes me a safe trip. I’m swarmed by a small mob who offer to get me across the border hassle free for a small price. I ignore them and approach the border guard, who promptly tells me that the border is for Kazakh and Uzbek citizens only. I tell him I’m a Russian citizen and that we’re all friends. He tells me that the foreigner crossing is 80km away at Yallama. I tell him that if Stalin was still in power, this man would be sent to the gulags for his insolence.

The taxi drivers offer me ridiculous rates of 8,000 Tenge (60 AUD) for the taxi and think I’ll negotiate from there. I tell them to f*ck off, scam someone else and that I’ll walk. One of the guys kindly offers me to exchange money, saying that I’ll get 180 Cym to the USD instead of the 160 he claims I’ll get in Uzbekistan. The official rate is 1,500 Cym to the USD, again I tell him to f*ck off.

I ask a bus driver headed for Almaty if there are any cars to the border, he tells me that I should take a taxi and points to the drivers who are still waiting around like sharks. They take turns approaching me and offering ridiculous rates. I tell them I’ll walk, tossing up my options.

Eventually a driver tells me to hop in and that he’ll drive. I ask how much and he tells me that we can negotiate along the way, I tell him upfront or it’s a no go. He tells me that he’ll drive me to the main road from where I can get a lift to the border for around 200tenge. I hop in and thank the man for his generosity. Unfortunately at the borders, you’re swarmed by the sharks and don’t notice the good drivers.

I wait at the intersection for a car and am offered a taxi for 4,000 Tenge, he tells me the border will close in one hour and that it’s a half hour drive. I tell him I’ll take my time and sleep at the border if I have to.

The first lift I get is with an off-duty police man who tells me that he used to work at the checkpoint and that it closes at 9pm (in four hours, not the half an hour that every driver claimed). Price 200 Tenge.

The officer drops me off at the town closest to the border from where a shared taxi is 200 Tenge. Given the short distance involved, I try to haggle, they tell me to f*ck off. I give up trying to flag down a lift after five minutes and hop in the taxi. 200 Tenge, total price from local only border, 400 Tenge, total price from Shymkent, 700 Tenge.

I reach the officer just outside the border and show him my passport. He says that it’s $10 to cross here. I tell him it’s free for everyone to cross. He tells me the foreigner crossing is 70km away and that this isn’t Yallama. Playing along, I thank him, turn to start walking only to have him laugh and say I can come in.

Between the gate and the Kazakh side of the border, I bump into an Uzbek who offers me to change currency at 1,800 Cym to the USD (the official rate is 1,500 and the current black market rate is between 1,800 and 1,900). I tell him I’ll change $50 but he says he doesn’t have enough money, but will see to it that I’m taken care of.

I leave the man and walk to the Kazakh side of immigration and show my passport.

Officer 1: Where are you going?

Me: Tashkent.

Officer 1: Why?

Me: I hear it’s beautiful.

Officer 1: You heard wrong.

The next officer I reach.

Officer 2: Where did you come from?

Me: Shymkent.

Officer 2: Where are you going?

Me: Tashkent.

Officer 2: Why?

Me: People told me it’s nice there.

Officer 2: They lied. Open your bag.

Having expected this, I’d taken the precaution of hiding all my money on myself as there was a chance the bag would be swarmed by immigration officers who would steal my things. Unfortunately I couldn’t hide my laptop and the officer asks me to take it out and turn it on. As it’s turning on, he says I can be fast tracked for $20. I tell him I’ll wait.

Officer 2: Have you got any movies?

Me: No, it’s for work.

Officer 2: How about porn?

Me: No, it’s for work.

Officer 2: You have a program for music, put on some music

I turn on the program and the music starts, he calls his buddies, who, as predicted swarm my bag.

Officers: Where do you keep your money?

Me: I don’t have any.

One of the officers picks up a T-shirt and smells it.

Officer 3: Smells like narcotics.

Me: You need a new dealer, that’s the smell of sweat buddy, while you’re at it, do you mind washing it?

Pissed off that there’s no money, the officer swarm leaves, however I’m stuck with bored officer listening to music. While I wait, several men with suspicious packages or large sums of money walk past, pay a small bribe and keep going. After half an hour the officer lets me through. Note to self, hide laptop and make sure it has very little charge when exiting Uzbekistan.

I proceed to the final Kazakh officer.

Officer 4: Where did you come from?

Me: Shymkent.

Officer 4: Where are you going?

Me: Tashkent.

Officer 4: Why are you going to Tashkent?

Me: I heard the girls are pretty.

Officer 4: Good answer.

Me: I’m going to be returning to Kazakhstan, your girls are nice too, I don’t want to go through the hassle of re-registering, I need my registration card.

Officer 4: Sure I can help you with that. I help you, you help me. How much are you going to give me?

Me: As soon as you give me the card I’ll be out of your sights.

The officer, seeing that I won’t be giving him any money gives me the registration card and tells me to go away. Cheers to corrupt Kazakh hospitality.

I walk between the Kazakh and Uzbek sides of the border and just as I cross into the Uzbek side (passing a Kazakh officer who doesn’t demand a bribe), one of the guys who was talking with the officer says he received a call about a guy with a backpack looking to change currency. Looking at the Kazakh officer, I say we should walk a few steps away from him.

The guy says to not worry, that he can’t enter Uzbek territory (highly unlikely since he could easily rat on me and split the bribe money with his buddies on the Uzbek side) and walks a couple of steps with me to put me at ease. At 1,800 Cym to the USD, I offer to change $50 USD and am faced with a dilemma, verifying that I did in fact receive 90,000 Cym when the largest note is worth 1,000 Cym.

The guy takes out a pack in a rubber band and says it’s one hundred thousand in notes, quickly thumbs off ten thousand Cym notes, leaving them in the rubber band and puts them in his right jacket pocket. He gives me the stack and I tell him I’ll count them. I count them out slowly, reach 89 and tell him he’s wrong. He tells me I’m mistaken and we count them out together. The stack consists of 500s and 1000s interspersed (in order to confuse myself) and I catch him trying to double count notes and count a 500 as a 1000 when he speeds up. I tell him to stop, sort the pack into 1000s and 500s and tell him to count again slowly. Watching intently, I see him try to double count again and correct him. He finds that I’m watching so intently that he doesn’t try a third time and counts all the way to 89. He looks confused, pulls out a small pack in a rubber band from his left jacket pocket and surprise surprise, it contains eleven thousand Cym bills, conveniently explaining away that he tried to rip me off. I tell him it’s good that he remembers which pocket to take which stack from, exchange money and walk away, noting the smirk on the Kazakh officers face.

In total we spent fifteen minutes counting money between Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan customs and I smile at the fact that I’ve committed my first felony (black market currency exchange) prior to even being let into the country.

Outside the Uzbek side of the border, I chat with an Italian trio doing the Mongol Rally and make a note to one day also take part in it. After a short chat, I head in to the Uzbek immigration office, show the officer my passport and am told to speak with the doctor.

Doctor: Are you sick?

Me: No.

The doctor gives me the all clear and says I can keep going. The officer decides he’ll escort me personally. Uzbek officer 1 takes me to the immigration booth where they handle cars and the three officers inside talk about not letting me in due to the state of my passport – it suffered some damage when I came into Laos and was drenched in water as part of their new years celebrations (March 14th-16th).

Uzbek officer 1 pulls me aside and asks me how much I’m willing to pay to be let into the country. I say nothing and that if there are any problems he should call the Russian consulate in Tashkent to explain that he thinks the passport does not belong to me.

The officer makes me stand and wait while he goes off to speak to his boss (have a tea and see if I’ll get nervous and want to pay his bribe). In the mean time, one of the other guys, having completely taken apart everything in one of the cars headed towards Uzbekistan turns to the guy next in line with Russian plates and asks if he’s carrying any forbidden materials like narcotics or guns. The guy replies that he has nothing illegal, except for the car bomb which will go off as soon as someone opens the trunk. I laugh.

Uzbek officer 1 decides he’ll parade me in front of some of the other officers hoping I’ll want to pay a bribe. I meet a French couple (Deviane and Mark) and have a short with them while I wait, telling them to not pay any bribes.

After finally being let into the country, I walk along with the French couple and find out they were at the other border shortly after me and paid $20USD for a taxi to this one. I cringe.

They ask me to help find them a lift to Bukhara. Given that I know Russian (but not the prices of taxis here), I accept thinking I’ll save them at least some money. As we pass a group of women with prams full of goods to take into Kazakhstan, I chat with them and find that the cheapest way to Tashkent is to take a taxi to the intersection with the highway (500cym) and a bus to Tashkent (1000cym).

We reach the taxi sharks and I enquire about a taxi to Bukhara, the price is outrageous so the pair decide to try catch a bus from Tashkent. We negotiate a taxi to the intersection and after 20 minutes agree to 1000cym, they weren’t willing to take us for the 500cym. We’re followed by another taxi, the driver of which asks how much we’re offering to get to Tashkent. At this point, I’m pissed off that they lied to us about the distance involved and wouldn’t take us for the going rate and tell him to go away while we wait for the bus.

Eventually I agree to take the three of us for 2,000 Cym each, thinking it’ll be quicker than taking the bus. We get in the car, and at one point do an illegal U-turn and head in the wrong direction on the highway as the driver tries to find some guy that owes him money. I enquire about seat belt laws and am told that no one bothers since the fine is only 2,000 Cym. Our car has no headlights so the driver leaves his indicators on.

We reach Tashkent and are told that no buses or marshrutkas run after 9pm between cities since there was a bad accident two months ago and many people died. Not trusting the taxi drivers, we walk to a marshrutka to find that it is indeed true. We eventually settle on 30,000 Cym for the couple to go Samarkand (down from 40,000 after half an hour’s negotiation). I tell the couple to not pay any money until they arrive at their hotel and work on getting my own lift into the city.

The taxi mafia tell me that the only way into the city is by car since the buses don’t run. A bus goes past one minute later. I ask them where the bus stop is. One of the guys tells me he’ll take me for 500 Cym. I agree and put my bag in the car. He resets his odometer as we’re about to leave and I ask him why, saying he offered 500 Cym. He tells me it’s 500 Cym per kilometre. I laugh and tell him to piss off, open the boot and take my bag. I walk away from the taxi mafia and ask one of the shopkeepers where the bus stop is since I want to go to the centre.

The shopkeeper tells me I should take the metro and points to the stairs right next to where' I’d been negotiating with the taxi mafia the whole time. I go to the metro and ask one guy where there’s a cheap hotel in the city. He speaks with someone else on the metro and this other guy (Rustam) says he’ll tell me where to get off.

Rustam gets off at the same stop as I do and we walk together towards the bus stop. He has a Tony Montana swagger to his walk and even resembles the man somewhat. We hop on the bus and Tony Montana shows some card which entitles him to free travel. I ponder whether he works for the SNG (internal spying organisation). Turns out he’s an Afghan vet and swaggers because he was shot in the leg during his service, go figure.

We reach the hotel (Al-Hocilot - Ал-Хосилот), a derelict building from the soviet times and Rustam bids me farewell as I check in. Showing my registration slip to the attendant on my floor, she informs me that I have to pay for soap, shampoo and toilet paper. Also, if I want a “little sex” she can arrange it. I thank her for the offer, tell her (over fifty and overweight) that she couldn’t handle a little sex with me and head to my room for much needed rest.

If you plan on spending more than one week in Uzbekistan, you have several options for funding yourself.

1. Use one of only two ATMs in the entire country, conveniently located in the most expensive hotels in Tashkent. These dispense in UZS (Uzbek Cym) at the official rates or in USD. They do take a small commission for the service.
2. Take your currency to one of the official currency exchange points (banks) and lose 20% due to the artificially unfavourable exchange rate. You will however be issued with a receipt for your exchange and as such can use this money to then buy a plane ticket.
3. Take your USD or EURO to one of the unofficial black market exchangers and gain a more realistic rate. These people rarely take other currencies.
4. Exchange your money in Kazakhstan (or the country you plan on entering Uzbekistan from) and bring a small (or large) backpack to carry the money in.

After spending all the cym I had with me, I needed to exchange some USD into UZS – whenever you travel try to have USD or EUR with you, they tend to be accepted/exchanged everywhere, USD more so than EUR.

Speaking with a guy I’d met one night, he tells me I can go to a bank and laughs at the idea or I can go exchange with his preferred money changer and proceeds to give directions to the place.

1. You will hop on the metro and get off at the third stop. Leaving the metro you will cross the road, turn left and continue for several hundred metres to the bazaar.
2. The main entrance to the bazaar will be in front of you, you will walk around from the side entrance to the right and ask for the dairy section on the second floor.
3. Once you reach the dairy section, you will do a lap around it to make sure there are no police around.
4. Once you’re sure there are no police around, you will walk into the shop selling sausages and when you catch the attention of the shopkeeper, you will make the signal that you need to exchange currency – horizontally rotating your index fingers around each other, similar to the travel signal in basketball or the thumb twiddling motion when you have nothing to do.
5. When the shopkeeper finally asks you what you want, point to the sausages on the left for USD, on the right for EUR and how much of that currency you want to exchange.
6. If the shopkeeper has enough to cover it, they will tell you the rate for one unit of that currency.
7. Mention my name, where I work and that you’re my nephew and they will give you a more favourable rate.
8. They will tell you that the sausages you want are in the back, you will go there and get your money. Count it, twice. After you’ve counted it twice, count it again and give them the money.
9. Hide the money in your pockets (or bag depending on how much you’re changing), smile, thank them and leave.
10. Don’t forget to get me some of my favourite sausages as a thank you.

I ask the guy what the exchange rate should be for USD, he tells me that three days ago it was 1900, though now it’s closer to 1800 but at his rate, 1850 should be possible.

Just for giggles sake, I decide to check what the official rates are according to the banks.

I approach the sign and take a photo, turn and leave. A guy follows me some ten metres before asking me how much I want to change (unofficially). Looking back into the direction of the bank, I see the policeman trying to make himself look inconspicuous.  I tell the man to go back to his friend and that I only deal with banks.

I reach the bazaar, but it ends up being the wrong one and given the amount of police walking around, I decide not to ask around for currency exchange. Time for plan B.

Plan B is to use the same strategy that I used in Vietnam. Changing currency in Vietnam is best done at gold shops and not in banks as the gold shops will give you a more favourable rate after intense negotiation.

I walk into one jewellery store some distance from the bazaar and ask them if they exchange currency. The girl at the store tells me they don’t, but the jewellery store across the road should.

I ask at the store across the road and they ask me what rate I want, I tell them 100USD at 1850 cym to the dollar. They accept, the other customers pretend like nothing is happening and the manager goes out the back to get the money.

She emerges with three packs of cash and tells me I’m free to count it. I point to the counting machine and tell her we can use that, she smiles and tells me that I’m smart to not manually count it. Twenty seconds and 270 bills later (100 at 1000 cym and 170 at 500 cym), I’m satisfied that I haven’t been ripped off. A minute later a guy comes in, inspects the bill I gave, says it’s genuine and takes it for himself. I stuff my pockets with the bills and the manager makes her commission, win-win and no need to risk dealing with police and manual counting of bills.

My advice, if you want to risk illegally changing currency in Uzbekistan, find a jewellery store. If you don’t speak the language, write on a piece of paper how much you have, how much you want for it and show it to the manager (e.g. 20th August 2009, $100 = 185,000 CYM).

Before exchanging currency in Tashkent, Uzbekistan

After exchanging currency at the black market rates

Now I challenge you to find a store selling wallets in Tashkent. They do exist. Give up? Back home, we call them backpacks.

Everyone who comes to Uzbekistan cannot leave until they’ve taken a similar photo.