Dushanbe – Back to Dushanbe

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After bad weather in last two days in Istaravshan, I decided to go back earlier to Dushanbe to sort out my Kyrgyz visa application. I took a taxi from the bazaar. Actually it was not a proper taxi. There were two men originally from Kurgan Teppa at the south, going back to their town. As there were only two of them (one was the driver), the back seat was empty. Rather than letting it empty, they decided to grab a passenger or two to lessen the burden of the oil price. And without I realizing earlier, I was the only passenger in this car, and they were two completely stranger men. I felt quite insecure when leaving Istaravshan, but I just believed at my luck.

The driver, Muhammad Rasul, was not fasting, but his friend was. Despite of having fast, his friend always tickled all young girls we met on road, made me wonder whether he knows the meaning of fasting rather than only not eating and drinking during the days. The man just smiled naughtily, showing his ugly golden teeth.

The rain in Istaravshan turned to be snow on the Ainy (Shakhristan) Pass. The road was completely covered by snow and all cars had to pas very, very carefully. Now I understand why the traffic in Tajikistan becomes very tricky in all winters. It was not winter yet this time, but it had become already difficult journey. The scenery of snow-capped mountains was brilliant though. And we were really reaching the sky, passing through the clouds. That’s the mountain journey experience in Tajikistan.

Because of delayed journey passing two difficult passes covered by snow, we arrived in Dushanbe after dark. The driver refused to take me to the city and just threw me at the outskirt of the capital. They continued their journey to Kurganteppa. It was scary when I was alone in the dark, waiting for trolley bus to take me near the only place I know to stay (but I don’t really want to go back to that hotel after the theft case). I didn’t know where I was, and just kept asking bus conductors about directions.

Finally I arrived at Hotel Vakhsh. The scary woman in administrator desk (administrator in Russian hotel is receptionist in ours), Khadijah, this time talked to me very sweetly. She sympathized me because of the stolen money. When I came to this hotel for the first time, I tried to bargain down the 10$ price, she was agitated and screamed, “If you don’t have money, how do you travel then!” and promoting his hotel, “If you take 2 dollar hotel, there are many at the bazaars. But our hotel is safe!” Hmm… safe? But the fact is, I lost money in a room which cost unworthily at 10$ per night.

Later I found out that the locals were paying 15 somoni for a bed in that room and I had to pay 35 Somoni. They still have the Soviet-style tier price system: the cheapest is for the locals, and those supposed-to-be-rich tourists have to pay the most. Khadijah offered a ‘discount’ to me, 25 Somoni. She even offered me a dinner.

Although now I suspect everybody in the hotel, I was too tired to think about unhappy accidents happened recently. I just wish to get my Kyrgyz visa as soon as possible, and leave Dushanbe, as soon as possible.