Into the unknown

by Camilla Binyatova (Uzbekistan)

A leap into the unknown Uzbekistan

I still remember that rainy October day, when my anxiety and panic attacks went out of control. My therapist advised me to try to travel to another country with a completely different culture. I thought it was a good idea, so I took my iPad, and opened a world map to choose a random country. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and pointed somewhere. It took me about a minute to read the name of the country. Uzbekistan. I never knew anything about Uzbekistan, even more, I didn’t even know such country existed, but Wikipedia said, that it has already been there in Central Asia in fifth century BC. Well, let’s trust it. I took a first flight to its capital, Tashkent. It was very hard. I was alone, nobody seemed to understand me, but right after our plane landed, and I went out of the airport, twelve thousands km away from my hometown, I breathed a surprisingly warm Tashkent air and felt happy. Lots of people stood near the airport, saying something, that I didn’t understand, but suddenly, one girl came to me and asked: “Can I help you?” I happily nodded and looked at my savior. She was very tiny and nice. She had long black hair and very kind brown eyes. Hospitality. This word unexpectedly popped in my mind, I guess, it was one of those articles about Uzbekistan, I read during my flight. That girl really became a symbol of hospitality at that moment. “I need a taxi and a somewhere to stay, but I don’t understand anyone around. Could you help me please?” The girl smiled at me and we went to a random man. She said something in- I don’t remember was it Uzbek or Russian, because here people speak both languages, sometimes mixing them, but it actually doesn’t matter. “I live with my coursemates in a flat, do you want to join us?” – the girl asked. I mean, if I was in New York, I would probably be scared, but this girl seemed so sincere, and was kind of the only one who could speak with me, so I obviously agreed. We sat into the car, which completely didn’t seem to be a taxi, however it was. “By the way, what is your name?” – the girl asked. “Emma” – I said. – “ And yours?” “Oydin” Initially I didn’t understand, but now I know how her name is spelled and even its meaning. “Can I call you Emma-opa?” – Oydin asked. “I’m sorry?” I was confused. “Opa means ‘sister’, so can I call you Emma-opa?” Oh my! People here call each other adding ‘sister’ and ‘brother’ to their names! That’s so sweet, isn’t it? “Sure! I’d love it!” Tashkent was so calm and amicable. I felt like I was hugged in its vast hands. Such a welcoming hello, which is so rare nowadays. Now, months later after that rainy October day in New York, I can be absolutely positive about the fact, that traveling changes people. Moreover, it heals our deepest wounds, which seemed to be fatal. Tashkent became my remedy. I felt spiritually connected with this town. And I am very thankful to my therapist, who invented that ‘a leap into the unknown’ game. It has been the best thing in my life so far.