G-L-A-M-O-R-O-U-S*

Literally nothing was more glamorous than the 7 hour taxi I took across the dusty Fergana Valley.  I don't care what anyone says - I'm still real.  

Alright, instead of waxing philosophical about the Fergana Valley, maybe I should just shut up and talk about what I actually did when I was there.  And if you're thinking that I was flying first class up in the sky, and poppin' champagne, then yes, I was.  I was livin' the life.  I was straight flossin'.  I mean, give or take.  The old Soviet bomber jet I took to Osh didn't exactly have a First Class lounge, but they did give me free juice and as far as I was concerned that was pretty good for Kyrgyz Air.  And the taxi I hired to take me from Osh to Batken didn't exactly move in the fast lane because I had to path him extra to drive around the Uzbek enclave on a section of highway the Kyrgyz started building 20 years ago and just haven't quite gotten there yet.  So, no, there was no fast lane.  In some sections there was no lane.  But there's nothing I would change about my glamorous time in the Fergana Valley.  

Just outside of Osh I could see the beautiful Fann mountains in the distance, and this is where I learned how amazing the pop music scene of 2011 was with that CD the Kazakh teenager had burned and brought along for the 7 hour drive.

After we departed Osh we drove along pretty decent highway until we hit a rough patch when we had to turn off the road because of the Uzbek border.  Dealing with the Uzbek border is an inconvenience I've since had to learn to live with, as it is always interrupting my enjoyment of life.  At this point (I had been relegated to the centre of the back seat because of whatever reason and there were two Kazakhs that I sat next to and a Tajik in the front.  Look, I get it, Kazakhs are basically Kyrgyz and Uzbeks so they can just go anywhere they want, but Tajiks and Canadians are of the same breed: we can't just enter Uzbekistan at our own whims.  So when we reached the city where the junction was, the two Kazakhs got out and two Tajik women got in and we were off on the ol' dusty trail. 

Open Road.  This is the part that was paved.  Pretty good!

Rereading that last paragraph leads me to believe that you, dear reader, have no idea what I am talking about.  What's important to note is that I had no idea what was going on, and I rarely do in the best of situations, least of all ones involving Uzbek enclaves.  To give a quick history lesson, when the borders were drawn between the various Soviet republics they selectively left large swaths of people outside their borders, but also created enclaves that were jurisdictionally part of the neighbouring country.  For example, the entire Fergana Valley is primarily Uzbek but large portions with large Uzbek populations were given to Kyrgyzstan, whereas small pockets located inside Kyrgyzstan with Uzbek populations were inexplicably given to Uzbekistan.  This wouldn't be a problem for me if all the main highways happened to casually pass through these enclaves and create serious visa problems for me and the Tajiks.  Me, because I'm of the West, and the Tajiks, because they keep threatening to turn off the water supply to Uzbekistan at their enormous dam.  

I wonder if I will ever get into those mountains which are controlled by Uzbekistan.  I met a guy who "knew a guy" who could get me in but I suppose we never really cleared up whether this get guy could also get me out.

Anyway, we did a switcheroo and I was able to finagle myself into the front seat to take lots of pictures of the passing scenery.  When we set off on the dusty highway, we realized that we were now out of music.  The Kazakhs were gone, and with them, their magical CD which had Pitbull's Give Me Everything Tonight (yes, the one where he rhymes Kodak with Kodak) on loop.  I told them all that I had "Amerikanskaya Muzika" (meaning…more Pitbull) on my iPod but I was dismayed to learn that the USB port into the radio thing in the car didn't work for my iPod.  We were all disappointed.  I don't remember what we ended up listening to, but it wasn't as good as Pitbull. 

omfg am I kidding?  Nothing is as good as this.  

The Fergana Valley was so dusty.  So dusty.  And eventually my batteries died and I regretted not pulling out new ones when we had stopped at the junction.  What I remember is breathtaking landscapes with dunes and dry rivers, and red hills, and old men sitting cross-legged on those amazing outdoor terraces in dusty villages, and pyramids of watermelons.  We rolled into Batken and then I got shunted into another taxi and whisked off to the Tajik border.  Everyone was in such a rush that I didn't even get to enjoy all that Batken had to offer, which is apparently loads and loads of apricots.  I don't even like apricots, but I love to opportunity to refuse them when they are offered to me, and this taxi driver robbed me of my choice. 

They had been building this road since 1993, and if I'm honest things haven't really improved much since then.    The Chinese are also building it now, and they have brought in their own equipment, materials, and labour, and once they are done they are leaving the labour behind because according to all my sources China is desperate for a population pressure valve.

  *Oh, you didn't anticipate that my entire time in the Fergana Valley was going to be a montage of references to Fergie's 2007 album?  It's like you don't even know me.