tashkent or bust
It was one of those days. Or should I say nights. Well, actually I guess it was both. Last Friday I had a ticket to fly from Ferghana to Tashkent on a 10pm flight. This was going to be my first time flying within Uzbekistan. Up until Friday, a Nexia had been the preferred mode of transport to and from Tashkent. The flight was supposed to be a little over 40 minutes and only cost a little over $12 so it sounded pretty good.
I leave my house around 8 to give plenty of time since I have no idea what to expect. I arrive at the airport and go through a quick security check at the entrance. The airport is almost like a hanger with its high ceilings and is only partially lit. It is cold and there are only two other people waiting for the flight. I sit down in one of the 4 seats and wait for them to announce boarding. It is cold and I feel tired. The two people next to me eventually move up onto the ledge that covers the radiators and start to doze off. A few more people slowly trickle in. After an hour and a half of waiting I can't sit any longer so I pace a little. The woman sitting on the ledge points out it is actually warm. It turns out she's an American. I sit on the lukewarm ledge and start to thaw out a little. A small boy walks to up to the front desk and asks when the plane will arrive. I think the man tells him 11pm, but I'm not sure. I start talking to the woman* next to me and we exchange the usual information... who are we, what are we doing here.
Around 11:30 they make an announcement that they will start boarding our flight. What this actually meant was just that they were going to check our tickets, put us through another security check and move us into another room (and this one was even colder). C and I continue our conversation and the wait passes somewhat quickly. I make a phone call and find out that our plane actually started in Moscow and had two other stops in Uzbekistan before coming to Ferghana.
Around 12:30 we finally walk out onto the runway and see the Tu-154 that is supposed to take us to Tashkent. It's quite a large plane for the 15 or so passengers. Unfortunately, we didn't get onto the plane. We just stood there. Under the star filled sky. Freezing. 10 minutes pass. Then a van resembling an ambulance pulls up. It sits there for about 5 more minutes doing nothing. Two men in fatigues open the back and then stand around for another 5 minutes. As this is going on, I notice two men walk up to the wing of the aircraft and drain a liquid into a glass jar. One swirls the liquid around while the other observes. I didn't think much of it.
They take a man out of the back of the ambulance on a stretcher and set him on the ground. He is wrapped in blankets, but I can see that he is also wearing fatigues. Eventually, they get around to carrying him up the stairs to the plane and amazingly avoid dropping him.
After a half hour of dancing around on the runway trying to keep warm, we were finally allowed to board. Not that we left. We just sat there. The stairs were taken away. The doors were closed. The flight attendants served beverages. It was almost as if we went through the motions of the flight. An hour passed. We still sat. Most of the passengers were falling asleep as it was now after 2 in the morning. After another hour and a half of dozing in and out of consciousness, a crackly voice came across the cabin loudspeakers. We weren't going anywhere tonight. Time to get off the plane. No idea why. No idea how I was going to find a Nexia to get to Tashkent at 3:30 in the morning.
There we are in the dark, empty airport trying not to freeze. The other passengers are kind of standing around in a daze too. There are no taxis at the airport at this hour. We aren't even sure if this is a temporary thing or if we should just go home. I give my new friend C my cell phone and she calls to try to get a driver to pick us up and take us to another American's house so we can figure out what best to do next. While we wait for her driver to arrive the other passengers slowly disappear into the night. Then a militsiya man comes up and tells us to follow him. This makes us both a little nervous and we are hesitant to follow him. Unfortunately we were having to rely on my broken Russian at this point. I tell him our friend is coming to pick us up. He still insists. So we follow him. He was actually a really decent guy. He showed us to a warm little room and put on a movie for us to watch.
Another man came into the room about 10 minutes later and I decided to ask him what was wrong with the plane (in half-asleep broken Russian). He told me that they had put bad fuel in it in Moscow and something about the engine being damaged. Now I understood what they were doing before we boarded the plane... they were sampling the fuel. He said it might fly around 11 in the morning, but he wasn't too sure.
Around 4:45 the driver arrived and took us to J's* house. What a great guy. Even in the middle of the night he was warm and hospitable. We decided it was best to wait another hour to try to get a car. Around 6:30 I started trying to make arrangements to get one of my regular Ferghana-Tashkent drivers. By 7:30 it was all arranged. J gave us a great breakfast so our stomachs were filled as we left to meet the driver. At 8:30 the driver arrived and we were finally headed in the right direction.
Even during the drive, though, it still seemed like we weren't destined to make it. Our driver got pulled over and had to deal with the militsiya. He seemed pretty pissed when he got back in the car. He even peeled out. At the checkpoints our passports were scrutinized more than usual. All of the gas stations before we headed into the mountains were out of gas and we were already on empty. I was sure I was going to have to push the car over the mountain. We finally made it, though, at about 1:30 in the afternoon... about 18 hours after I left my house.
It was one of those trips you just had to be patient and laugh about. And laugh we did. C was a wonderful travel companion. We kept each other sane and in good spirits throughout. I may have lost a day of my trip, but I made a new friend... a good deal in my book.
*I leave out names only out of respect for people's privacy.
I leave my house around 8 to give plenty of time since I have no idea what to expect. I arrive at the airport and go through a quick security check at the entrance. The airport is almost like a hanger with its high ceilings and is only partially lit. It is cold and there are only two other people waiting for the flight. I sit down in one of the 4 seats and wait for them to announce boarding. It is cold and I feel tired. The two people next to me eventually move up onto the ledge that covers the radiators and start to doze off. A few more people slowly trickle in. After an hour and a half of waiting I can't sit any longer so I pace a little. The woman sitting on the ledge points out it is actually warm. It turns out she's an American. I sit on the lukewarm ledge and start to thaw out a little. A small boy walks to up to the front desk and asks when the plane will arrive. I think the man tells him 11pm, but I'm not sure. I start talking to the woman* next to me and we exchange the usual information... who are we, what are we doing here.
Around 11:30 they make an announcement that they will start boarding our flight. What this actually meant was just that they were going to check our tickets, put us through another security check and move us into another room (and this one was even colder). C and I continue our conversation and the wait passes somewhat quickly. I make a phone call and find out that our plane actually started in Moscow and had two other stops in Uzbekistan before coming to Ferghana.
Around 12:30 we finally walk out onto the runway and see the Tu-154 that is supposed to take us to Tashkent. It's quite a large plane for the 15 or so passengers. Unfortunately, we didn't get onto the plane. We just stood there. Under the star filled sky. Freezing. 10 minutes pass. Then a van resembling an ambulance pulls up. It sits there for about 5 more minutes doing nothing. Two men in fatigues open the back and then stand around for another 5 minutes. As this is going on, I notice two men walk up to the wing of the aircraft and drain a liquid into a glass jar. One swirls the liquid around while the other observes. I didn't think much of it.
They take a man out of the back of the ambulance on a stretcher and set him on the ground. He is wrapped in blankets, but I can see that he is also wearing fatigues. Eventually, they get around to carrying him up the stairs to the plane and amazingly avoid dropping him.
After a half hour of dancing around on the runway trying to keep warm, we were finally allowed to board. Not that we left. We just sat there. The stairs were taken away. The doors were closed. The flight attendants served beverages. It was almost as if we went through the motions of the flight. An hour passed. We still sat. Most of the passengers were falling asleep as it was now after 2 in the morning. After another hour and a half of dozing in and out of consciousness, a crackly voice came across the cabin loudspeakers. We weren't going anywhere tonight. Time to get off the plane. No idea why. No idea how I was going to find a Nexia to get to Tashkent at 3:30 in the morning.
There we are in the dark, empty airport trying not to freeze. The other passengers are kind of standing around in a daze too. There are no taxis at the airport at this hour. We aren't even sure if this is a temporary thing or if we should just go home. I give my new friend C my cell phone and she calls to try to get a driver to pick us up and take us to another American's house so we can figure out what best to do next. While we wait for her driver to arrive the other passengers slowly disappear into the night. Then a militsiya man comes up and tells us to follow him. This makes us both a little nervous and we are hesitant to follow him. Unfortunately we were having to rely on my broken Russian at this point. I tell him our friend is coming to pick us up. He still insists. So we follow him. He was actually a really decent guy. He showed us to a warm little room and put on a movie for us to watch.
Another man came into the room about 10 minutes later and I decided to ask him what was wrong with the plane (in half-asleep broken Russian). He told me that they had put bad fuel in it in Moscow and something about the engine being damaged. Now I understood what they were doing before we boarded the plane... they were sampling the fuel. He said it might fly around 11 in the morning, but he wasn't too sure.
Around 4:45 the driver arrived and took us to J's* house. What a great guy. Even in the middle of the night he was warm and hospitable. We decided it was best to wait another hour to try to get a car. Around 6:30 I started trying to make arrangements to get one of my regular Ferghana-Tashkent drivers. By 7:30 it was all arranged. J gave us a great breakfast so our stomachs were filled as we left to meet the driver. At 8:30 the driver arrived and we were finally headed in the right direction.
Even during the drive, though, it still seemed like we weren't destined to make it. Our driver got pulled over and had to deal with the militsiya. He seemed pretty pissed when he got back in the car. He even peeled out. At the checkpoints our passports were scrutinized more than usual. All of the gas stations before we headed into the mountains were out of gas and we were already on empty. I was sure I was going to have to push the car over the mountain. We finally made it, though, at about 1:30 in the afternoon... about 18 hours after I left my house.
It was one of those trips you just had to be patient and laugh about. And laugh we did. C was a wonderful travel companion. We kept each other sane and in good spirits throughout. I may have lost a day of my trip, but I made a new friend... a good deal in my book.
*I leave out names only out of respect for people's privacy.
posted by jeff re: at 6:56 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home