As I stepped off of the plane in Tashkent (the capital of Uzbekistan) I thought, “Here we are Rich and I, in the middle of a desert wasteland trying to find the most important photographs of all time.” He was considered a freshly potty trained baby and I was a senior in our federal district of the CIA. Our brightly laminated passports with our cover names, Eric Winchell and Tarek Radwan gave us a sense of security that we wouldn’t be suspected as U.S. agents. Our covers as national geographic reporters seemed like it was going to get us in and out without a hitch. It also seemed we would have ample time to find the high definition photos of our U.S. President in a Gentlemens club! The Uzbekistan government was trying to black male us for money with these photographs. It was our duty to obtain these photos out of an abandoned ship in the Aral Sea. Then, we were to destroy them without letting outside intelligence see us. Uzbekistan general location is surrounded by countries with real motives to find these photographs. The fact that this country was on the border of south eastern Asia and surrounded by Middle East countries made it very difficult to do this mission unseen (culture grams)
Our first objective was to find a home of rural farmers to pretend like we were doing documentation on them. We needed to set up a camp so that we could observe them from a distance. Our first camp was a mistake because it was set up right in the direction that they prayed in while they kneeled on a mat towards Mecca. By that mistake I had already learned that they were Sunni Muslims. (World fact book, Uzbek) As we gathered necessary information from our observations we realized they were very poor and had only a few staple foods that they grew and raised by themselves. Their measly little diets consisted of rice potatoes and meat. (Uzbekistan, 17) We were so busy trying to find out which boat the photos were in, we forgot about our own supply of food. We decided to take the rest of what we had and float down the Amadaryan River to a city called Nukus. Half way on our journey we ran out of supplies to live on so we spoke what little of the main language (Uzbek) we knew to persuade a family that we were from the National Geographic and we wanted to film their daily lives. They openly accepted us into their cozy house that had a courtyard with all of their animals. The man of the house shook my hand with vigor while putting his left hand over his heart. At first I thought that was weird, but I later found out that it meant sincerity. The men were always calling me dost (friend) and gave me the best they had to offer. Our first night there was very interesting and was full of learning about their customs. They all sat on mats around a low table with their legs crossed Indian style wearing chaponlar (long open, quilted robes) and duplar (squarish caps). For dinner they only had a little bit of soup, Nan (flat bread), and some rice. They were always telling me Oling, oling (take, take) because they wanted to give everything they had.(culture grams) They never drank cold drinks even though it was 85 degrees, even at night.(The new book of knowledge, Uzbekistan) Every generation that was still alive lived and ate in that house with the family. We all fell asleep that night in one room where everyone slept on mats. (Culture grams) After me and Tarek finally drifted to sleep the Uzbek man woke us up and pointed with his whole hand towards the window. Outside his window were the Uzbek police walking towards the door! I and Tarek ran for the safety of the courtyard to hide. But when we got to the courtyard other police men had already entered the courtyard. They out numbered us and took us into their van. We arrived at dawn two days late in the city of Khiva. In this city all you could see was gigantic banners of the countries president Islam Karimov and how he is the best president this Republic has ever had. He looked mighty, tall and powerful on these wall sized colorful posters. They boasted of their Prime Minister Uktur Sultanov and how they have a 250 seat supreme assembly. (Culture grams) As we passed through the cities it seemed like there were more people living in the poor, rural areas than in cities. (CIA fact book) When we stopped to get gas, they were setting up for Navruz (New Year). There were stands for speeches, bands, food, and art exhibitions. Some people were taking down posters from Women’s Day (March 8) that had advertisements for flowers and presents. (Uzbekistan, 22) When the guards found out that we were alive, they knocked us out with billy clubs. The last thing I remember seeing was a sign that said “Uzbekistan: Population 24.8 million.”(Culture grams)
We woke up to the sound of metal screeching on metal and men shouting beneath me. We looked out our little windows and saw vast mines all in the west. They had gold, and uranium being hauled out on trains to export with other countries. The coal was being shipped to the factories so they could run. Then we saw all of the petroleum being sold straight out of the Derricks to the consumers or gas stations. To the north all there was were vast cotton fields. They were spinning the cotton so they could export it or sell it to clothe factories. (Culture grams) Then, I remembered in training for this mission that since the economy is so unstable, their GNP always fluctuated but it was stable right now at 2,000 dollars.(new book of knowledge, Uzbek) We sat in that room for a few more hours when some different guards came in and started talking to us. We seized the opportunity of the unarmed guards and we killed them instantly with our superior Judo Chops. We then changed into their uniforms and covertly made our escape. At the front gates to the building we were being hidden in I could see a large building in the background, the Samarcanda! That meant we’re in Samarkand and I knew the way back to the Aral Sea. (CIA Fact book) As we hitched rides to the nearest train station (some 100 miles away) we looked at all the people and what they did in their daily lives. Some people were making money by farming cotton, rice, vegetables, grapes, melons, and livestock. While others lived in the cities and worked in factories to produce chemical, fertilizers, textile machinery or electric motors. Other people were miners. These people made little money mining coal, gold or petroleum. (Culture grams) Once we figured out that hitching rides was unsafe by being almost murdered for our money, we started taking public transportation.
As we took the overcrowded buses and trolleys, we realized not very many people own cars. But, every person that owns a car is a potential taxi. There were no subways and train rides are the only form of long distance traveling people can afford. (Uzbekistan, 25) But when we got to the train station to go to the Aral Sea, we were greeted by our superior officers at the CIA. “Good news boys, you guys can all go home,” they said. “The pictures were all an elaborate prank played by the president Islam Karimov on our president. Don’t you know? They’re friends! You can use your 869 dollar ticket to get back home.”
Well, we got home. And we quit the CIA after that last mission. Uzbekistan sure was a pretty place when you weren’t getting the crap beat out of you. The people are so friendly, courteous and they treat you with the utmost respect. To the snowy mountains to the arid desert that country has an overwhelming amount of self beauty. The time Rich and I spent in Uzbekistan was a living hell. But, I will always remember the people and the environment that makes that country so beautiful.
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