Mistaking the airport train
Today is finally the day I go to Uzbekistan. After a long journey through Southeast Asia I graduate from there and from today head to Central Asia. I remember last time when I went to Suvarnabhumi International Airport I was cutting it close and rushed on a motorbike, so this time I decided to go with plenty of time.
I rode a motorbike to the nearby station and planned to take the airport train.
But the train I arrived at was not the airport train but the overground train. Seriously?! I didn't know two different trains run on the exact same line. I called another motorbike to the airport train station. A lesson learned from a mistake. After about 20 minutes I arrived at Suvarnabhumi International Airport.
Show a return ticket
Check‑in went smoothly and I got my ticket to Uzbekistan. Almost everyone heading to Uzbekistan seemed to be Uzbek nationals returning home, and perhaps because I was unusual they asked me to show a return ticket at check‑in.
I said I was going to Azerbaijan and showed my ticket. She seemed a bit puzzled. She even checked the map because my flight was from a different city, not Tashkent. I thought she was probably an S on the MBTI — the type who reliably follows the rules.
I got my ticket without problems, passed through the gate, and departure went smoothly. There was no exit stamp; it was an automated gate.
Before boarding I relaxed in the lounge and ate my last Thai meals. Everything was absolutely delicious. There was also ice cream this time, so I had that too.
Not giving up my seat — an uncompromising stance
My seat on the plane was window 4A. It was really close to the very front. When I headed there almost everyone had already boarded and I got a bit nervous.
The overhead bins were almost full and my backpack barely fit. As expected, people from Central Asia always seem to carry a lot of luggage.
Someone I didn't know was sitting in my seat, so I told him this was my seat and asked him to move. But he said they were all the same.
But I firmly showed my ticket and said, 'This is my seat; you're over there,' so he gave up and moved. It would have been wrong for me to yield — he moved.
This kind of thing is really important. The old me would have accepted it and compromised, but now I absolutely won't compromise. If I want to sit there I will sit there, and I won't concede on things I think are wrong. I think this attitude is very important.
Massive in‑flight meals despite being an LCC
An old man sat next to me and an older woman next to him. They were big-built so I thought it might be a bit cramped, but they seemed peaceful so I didn't mind. It had been a while since someone sat next to me, so the flight was very tiring.
Is it an LCC called Centram Air? I thought there wouldn't be meals so I put on an eye mask and slept, but to my surprise meals and drinks were served. The meal included three pieces of bread, butter, a tomato, chicken rice, and cheese—there was a lot.
I thought it was an incredible amount. This might be the first time I've had so much in‑flight food. It felt very Central Asian. The tomato was served whole with no dressing at all. Besides, I'd already drunk all the water and didn't want to drink more because I'd need the toilet later, so I decided not to eat the tomato.
I asked the man next to me in Russian something like 'Do you like tomatoes?' but he said his portion was fine.
Arrival in Uzbekistan — a smog-covered city
After a seven-hour flight I finally arrived in Uzbekistan. I chatted with the old man about simple things like 'Where's your hotel?' 'Is this your first time in Uzbekistan?' 'Where are you going?'
I arrived safely in Uzbekistan. The city was covered in smog and the air pollution was intense. It was far worse than Vietnam.
I wondered how people could be okay with such air pollution. There was mostly desert and fields, houses looked very bleak, and the city felt really underdeveloped — kind of old Soviet. Even the planes used by the military seemed like rickety ones received from Russia. It started to feel interesting.
I thought I might be questioned at immigration but they didn't ask anything. The Pakistani in front of me was asked many questions and some weren't allowed in, yet the moment I handed over my passport I was sent for fingerprinting without comment. I was supposed to do both hands but finished with only one. I really felt grateful to have been born in Japan.
100GB SIM for 1,400 yen, VPN is blocked
After immigration I immediately bought a SIM card. 100GB for 1,400 yen. It was extremely cheap. It looked like I could pay by card, so I paid with my card.
Using WISE for the exchange rate was really good. I inserted the SIM and finished the setup but it didn't work at all; when I asked they said it was because of the VPN. I wondered if using a VPN causes communications to be blocked?
I looked it up and it seems the state actively blocks VPNs. I wonder why.
While waiting for my luggage I withdrew 100,000 som from an ATM — about 13,000 yen. After collecting my luggage I finally used YandexGo to head to my Airbnb. The taxi driver seemed to recognize I was Japanese by my face.
He had lived in Korea for six years and spoke Korean fluently. When I spoke Russian he asked why I could speak Russian and we talked about various things. At the end we said bye-bye and parted. He was a really nice taxi driver. I felt again that Uzbekistan is indeed a peaceful country.
Pilaf for 1,130 yen
After resting a bit at the Airbnb, I took a taxi to a restaurant known for its delicious pilaf. It looked like a high-end place and the pilaf was 1,130 yen. For Uzbekistan that was incredibly expensive. A Japanese couple were sitting right in front of me, and I was a bit surprised at how familiar Japanese people felt here.
But I acted like I didn't care. I ordered something like spinach bread, pilaf, and water.
The pilaf was very tasty. But I felt the pilaf I had in Russia might have been better.
Beautiful Soviet-era metro stations
I walked to the metro. I asked the security guard in Russian 'I want to go here, can I get there with this?' and he replied in Uzbek so I figured it was fine. The gate used cards.
This was surprising. I thought this place was really high-tech. I expected to buy tickets but it was just cards. I wondered if it was a kind of jab at Russians since they can't use VISA and such.
On the platform I asked a woman in English and she said it wasn't this stop, so I walked a bit and boarded from another station.
Uzbek stations had the archetypal old Soviet design and were truly beautiful. I wondered why they insisted on making metro stations so grand, but it was unmistakably Uzbek in design and beautiful. The long escalators reminded me of Saint Petersburg.
I took the metro to a station near a large park in the center. Many Uzbeks were riding, and there were few women. Mostly men or couples. Is it dangerous to ride the metro alone? I arrived at my target station. Seeing Uzbeks I thought, 'So this is what Uzbeks look like.' Dark hair and typical Central Asian faces. I felt 'I'm in Uzbekistan.'
This cold, this smell—truly the old Soviet Union
I walked through the large park. It was very cold outside. But I walked around the city wearing the outfit I came from Thailand in — a T-shirt and a raincoat.
There were many ice cream shops and lots of Uzbeks walking and laughing. There were young people and couples too. I liked this atmosphere. It reminded me of Russia. I took a lot of photos with my DJI and iPhone.
This pleasant cold, this smell, this atmosphere — truly Central Asia, the old Soviet Union. I thought it would be nice to go on a date in this cold. I wanted to walk here holding someone's hand.
Nostalgic foods from my time studying in Russia, but way too expensive
There were lots of tall buildings nearby and a shopping mall, so I decided to go. I took photos of Uzbekistan-made cars and an Uzbekistan version of a Lamborghini. There was a supermarket nearby, so I bought water and sirok (quark snack).
What surprised me was finding the ice cream, smetana, tvorog, and butter I used to eat while studying in Russia; I was really excited and thrilled after a long time! But the prices were super high — I felt like I couldn't afford to buy them.
I wondered how many times more it was than back then. Maybe import costs make things pricey in Uzbekistan. I was surprised Chanel perfume was 10,000 yen more than in Japan. It made me wonder how Uzbeks can live with prices this high.
With an average monthly income of $700–800 USD, how can they afford a cost of living higher than Japan? I thought. Sonya is coming tomorrow, so we can go shopping together then.
Since Sonya is coming tomorrow I planned to shop together then. I took a taxi back to the apartment and slept.
