Many are familiar with each other. But a stranger, and even from the Tajik side, is interesting to everyone, and a conversation is tied. On the questions asked, it is clear that they have heard about our lives, newspapers read and know how to start a conversation:- They wrote that you have gathered a large grain crop in Tajikistan!- And you do not lag behind, – I answer in the same tone.- But we still collect cereals and cotton more – proud notes sound.- So you have cards in your hands, – I am parole, – you have a lot of flat land, and we have mountains and ravines. The road rises to the mountains, in some of them the tops seem to be cut off with a sharp knife, a lone tractor will plow the virgin soil.
– And what prevents you from taking and smoothing part of your mountains, ”someone advises. – There will be a new land for crops and the construction of new cities!..With central roads in Uzbekistan order. They are constantly being repaired, poured soil on the side of them. I admire their well -groomed and the fact that in tens, and maybe hundreds of kilometers, roadside white trees stretch.- And you will turn off this road to the side, but shock on the country road, ”someone from the passengers advises. Before the posts of the traffic police, the driver hastily throws the seat belt and slow down. Having safely passed the barrier, with relief it throws off the belt from the shoulders and adds speed. The car rushes in the dark. Nevertheless, in the light of the headlights, the passing part of the road and the dividing white strip are clearly visible. From time to time we get into the rain lane. We drive up to the outskirts of Samarkand in complete darkness. Railway stalls are brightly lit. Overtaking each other, saleswoman of Samarkand cakes run to cars. But they buy them little, since they are going to Tashkent, they are useless, everything is there. And you are constantly convinced of this by going in the Uzbek capital even to the most modest grocery store.
