As we approached the roadblock, the marshutka driver turned and shouted, "Quick! Get down!" Without understanding what was happening, I scrunched down in my seat. "Lower!" the driver demanded. I scooted uncomfortably low, my head squashed in my neighbor's lap.
At the roadblock, the Uzbek border guard stuck his head in the driver's window. "Tajiklar bormi?" he asked ("Are there Tajiks?").
"No, only Kyrgyz," the driver replied. The militia officer waved us on.
"You can sit-up now," the driver said. I stretched-out in my seat and looked around. "Now we are in Uzbekistan! In about 20 minutes, you need to get low again." Uzbekistan looked strangely similar to Kyrgyzstan.
Whoever drew the borders in the Ferghana Valley was either a mad genius or an inept geographer. Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan come together in a tangled mash with international borders twisting around one another. In the border mess, Tajik communities are in Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyz communities are in Tajikistan, and Uzbek communities are everywhere. To further complicate matters, there are six foreign enclaves - four Uzbek and two Tajik. The Uzbek enclaves are largely populated by ethnic Tajiks; the Tajik enclaves are populated by Tajiks and Kyrgyz. And, because a geographer past looked at the Ferghana Valley and saw a joke that would only be hilarious in the future, the only good road from Osh to Batken travels through Uzbekistan and several enclaves.
Those with Kyrgyz passports can transit Uzbekistan and the enclaves without a visa. As a foreigner, I would need a transit visa to do so legally. Yet, the Uzbek border guards are apparently only interested in Tajik travelers, who they shake down for bribes on their way to and from the markets in Kyrgyzstan. Unfortunately, the Tajik enclaves are so strict that foreigners without transit visas have to drive the unimproved roads around them, adding hours to the journey.
Still in Uzbekistan, the driver told me to get low again as we approached the border crossing back into Kyrgyzstan, but in vain. This time, the Kyrgyz border guard opened the van door and demanded all of our passports. "Tajikter barbi?" he asked ("Are there Tajiks?"). Again, the driver stated that there were no Tajiks in our car. After checking our passports, the guard waved us on. The Kyrgyz border guards also bribe Tajiks on their way to the markets.
After about eight hours of overland travel from Osh to Batken (hours added to bypass the enclaves), I determined to find a direct flight the next time regardless of the cost. And I pitied the Tajik traders who lose on all borders and can't afford the luxury of a flight. The mad genius or inept geographer really screwed things up for the southern economy.
At the roadblock, the Uzbek border guard stuck his head in the driver's window. "Tajiklar bormi?" he asked ("Are there Tajiks?").
"No, only Kyrgyz," the driver replied. The militia officer waved us on.
"You can sit-up now," the driver said. I stretched-out in my seat and looked around. "Now we are in Uzbekistan! In about 20 minutes, you need to get low again." Uzbekistan looked strangely similar to Kyrgyzstan.
Whoever drew the borders in the Ferghana Valley was either a mad genius or an inept geographer. Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan and Uzbekistan come together in a tangled mash with international borders twisting around one another. In the border mess, Tajik communities are in Kyrgyzstan, Kyrgyz communities are in Tajikistan, and Uzbek communities are everywhere. To further complicate matters, there are six foreign enclaves - four Uzbek and two Tajik. The Uzbek enclaves are largely populated by ethnic Tajiks; the Tajik enclaves are populated by Tajiks and Kyrgyz. And, because a geographer past looked at the Ferghana Valley and saw a joke that would only be hilarious in the future, the only good road from Osh to Batken travels through Uzbekistan and several enclaves.
Those with Kyrgyz passports can transit Uzbekistan and the enclaves without a visa. As a foreigner, I would need a transit visa to do so legally. Yet, the Uzbek border guards are apparently only interested in Tajik travelers, who they shake down for bribes on their way to and from the markets in Kyrgyzstan. Unfortunately, the Tajik enclaves are so strict that foreigners without transit visas have to drive the unimproved roads around them, adding hours to the journey.
Still in Uzbekistan, the driver told me to get low again as we approached the border crossing back into Kyrgyzstan, but in vain. This time, the Kyrgyz border guard opened the van door and demanded all of our passports. "Tajikter barbi?" he asked ("Are there Tajiks?"). Again, the driver stated that there were no Tajiks in our car. After checking our passports, the guard waved us on. The Kyrgyz border guards also bribe Tajiks on their way to the markets.
After about eight hours of overland travel from Osh to Batken (hours added to bypass the enclaves), I determined to find a direct flight the next time regardless of the cost. And I pitied the Tajik traders who lose on all borders and can't afford the luxury of a flight. The mad genius or inept geographer really screwed things up for the southern economy.
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