
The 49-ers ready for action (credit Andrea Mancuso)
The reason why I have been rather lax in updating my blog is because I have been having an unscheduled adventure in the distant north-western part of Uzbekistan. This is how I described it to the Lonely Planet:
Information for travellers to Uzkekistan:
Do not carry sleeping tablets (diazepam, etc) without a doctor’s prescription on you, translated and certified. Many of these drugs are classified as Class B illegal drugs here and you can get into big trouble. I was stopped at the border leaving the country, and handed over my medicine case including these pills which were prescribed by my doctor and brought from the UK. I was informed this was a problem that would be sorted out within hours, and two weeks later, it looks like it will still take another week before I can leave. And I am very lucky that it is only taking that long.
Very quickly, and without my being given the relevant information, the situation escalated until I was being investigated under the trafficking article of the law, with a potential penalty of 5-20 years imprisonment. I had 14 tablets of 5mg Diazepam in one strip of pills. The amount at which it becomes a serious crime is 60mg. Although I carried only 2 tablets over this limit, the juggernaut of the criminal justice machine was put into action and it has proven extremely difficult to stop it. There has been no danger of imprisonment or anything else – the only problem is that everything just takes a really long time.
Despite my excellent embassy involvement, a copy of the prescription from my UK doctor plus proof of purchase, and a presidential amnesty (due to the fortuity of the timing – National day of 1st Sept), the bureaucratic process is so slow and complex here that things take forever. All civil servants seem to be scared of taking responsibility for any decision. Everyone in the system – lawyers, chief prosecuters, police, customs, and the ministries in Tashkent – all want this process to stop and have individually been very pleasant and helpful, but the process takes its time.
I am lucky that I am being treated very well – I am staying at a hotel, have not been charged, or had my passport confiscated. I am also very lucky with the timing of the presidential amnesty (the other amnesty period is the 8th December) and the fact that there are good relations between Uzbekistan and the West at the moment. However, this is a word of caution for travelers.
28 days later, it’s over. I am going to make my brother’s wedding after all (I was considering changing my residency permanently to Uzbekistan if I’d missed that one). Everything is now sorted out with the Uzbek authorities. And I bet no-one – but no-one – has ever felt such a feeling of liberation on crossing the frontier into Turkmenistan. A massive Thank You goes to the British Embassy in Tashkent, especially the consular service team, and in particular to Denise and Timur for their help the whole way through as well as troubleshooting a last-minute glitch.
Apart from a handful of hairy moments, it was actually an amazing experience. The most stressful part was having an IT-‘expert’-aided computer meltdown, losing half of my photos, all my writing, and having the rest of the hard drive totally scrambled. Which shows that wherever you are, IT (and IT support) is still the biggest source of hassle in 21st century life. Oh, and having two separate root canal treatments, which proves – I REALLY hope – that bad luck does come in threes.
Of all the places to be stranded for four weeks, Karakalpakstan – the region of Uzbekistan that I was in – would not have been my first choice. 1000km from the capital, home to the Aral sea disaster, closed off from even the rest of the USSR during the Cold War as a biological testing site, and spartan in landscape and amenities (desolate some would say), it’s not the most touristic of places at a quick glance.
But it was an absolutely fascinating place to be and it was a privilege to spend time with Karakalpaks. They are a people living in extraordinary times and an extraordinary place described in 1990 as ‘an ecological ghetto plagued by poverty, unemployment, disease and shortage of food.’ And it’s only got worse since then. Their culture and art are superficially supported by the Uzbek government. But their political and economic relationship with the centre is complex, especially around the production of cotton – and new gas and oil explorations will only exacerbate these tensions. The Aral sea gave them their identity, existence, way of life, inspiration and materials for self-expression – and as the Aral sea disappears, so do the prospects of these people.