Uzbekistan

For a long time I’ve been planning this trip, preparing as much as I could, figuring out the route, the visa and so on. And finally, you are there and commence to live the dream.
And for me a dream it is fulfilling a desire I had for many years. However sometimes some other feelings make themselves heard as well, pops up and ask, “why am I doing this? “
After travelling a whole day, and am totally exhausted and realise I only made 80km and the road conditions will not change for the next 300km…
In every country you need new currency and to watch out you aren’t getting cheated, where to refuel the vehicle, how to pay, before or after, a new SIM card, that often requires settings to be changed and the list goes on and on.
Or the really big things, like making myself understood in a language I don’t understand. Google translate? That can be very tricky, often translating utter goobledigook and might get you into trouble.
So many new impressions that need to be digested, so many different customs adapted to, so many cultural differences understood and bridged. I just need a break. But then cannot find a spot to rest for a few days. Or you get chased away by military or police, need to get out of the country due to visa limitations.
When I travel by myself I might not be really talking to somebody for days, only smiling myself through conversations, so I sometimes dread being addressed by another local.
When again my car is in the workshop and I have to trott around the industrial estate with Rex for hours on end.
And probably harder than this travel weariness: sometimes you really miss your friends and family. Shouldn’t bother me that much, I’ve lived far away for the last decades. Still…
But then there are those many moments, when the view around is of stunning beauty, the village life so picturesque, I drive through the villages and the people wave at me, I have another “conversation” with some woman at the waterpump, at the shop, the street crossing…
When people realise I am travelling by myself the women putting their hands to their hearts with a big smile on their faces, old men giving me the thumbs up.
When i again drive through one of those far away villages, the streets teaming with men with long beards, colorful skullcaps and long robes, women dressed in their long colorful, glittery dresses and skillfully arranged headscarves finding their way through cows and calves, sheep and goats and donkeys carrying their load or pulling a cart. It reminds me of something, causing me to suffer from a deja vu until Co traveller Christoph solves my puzzle: it is like a "Krippenspiel", a Nativity Scene. That's it!!!
When against any doubt I manage the Dushanbe rush hour traffic. I have since realised there is no such thing as traffic rules, there is only everyone for themselves and god against everybody else and, Insh 'allah, he guides me home unscathed.
When the girl finally understands the difference between “was” and “were”.
When I am invited to a school to talk to the children about myself, my journey and Australia and am perhaps able to inspire one of them to achieve what is important to them.
When I meet co-travellers that leave a deep impression and give me the feeling of home.
When again I have a meal in the circle of a local family.
When this man comes to me and presents me with a croissant. Just so.
When during the prayer after the meal my hands unintentionally fold themselves in the Christian manner and everybody bursts out laughing.
When I can glimpse little snippets of the daily lives and customs of those people I get to know and talk to.
When again and again and yet again, these total strangers, whose language I don’t speak, whose country I hardly knew existed a few years back, who went and are still going through so much hardship show so much generosity, hospitality, give their time in the attempt to help, offer a bed and a meal – this is touching beyond words.
These are the moments that make me ashamed of our western way of treating strangers. But this are as well the moments that make my heart hurt from happiness, these are the moments that never will be forgotten. But most of all these are the moments where you say aloud, THIS IS WHY I AM DOING THIS!Read more