In the city we currently call home, the main language appears to be Russian. The ‘second’ language is Uzbek – but only with the confines of its capital, Tashkent. I am reliably informed that the more we explore Uzbekistan, the more we will hear its own language. This is the fourth foreign country I have lived in and my first since France (over 25 years ago) where English is not the main international language. We were given fair warning that this would be the case and decided as a family to embrace this challenge and put various language apps and some good old-fashioned confidence and bravado to good use.
Five months in and we have a good grasp of some basic phrases, numbers and can read the letters phonetically. It’s not bad given the overstuffed confection box of new experiences we’ve had to sample and familiarize ourselves with, including navigating the weekly grocery shop. We have started using the local markets to buy the bulk of our groceries – if for not for any other reason than it is certainly cheaper. But we have found it has, to some degree, accelerated our learning of the Russian language. There are a couple of stalls where I am now recognized with a degree of familiarity:
“As-salamu alaykum” shouts the dairy guy as he sees me coming to buy our weekly 8 liters of milk ( we really should simply invest in a cow) – his hand warmly outstretched.
Walaykum-asalma” I reply.
Uzbekistan being 90% Muslim means you mostly hear the Arabic greeting – and the locals are always surprised to hear me giving the correct Arabic response!
I got round to learning the Russian numbers and alphabet and, along with some stock phrases and most often used nouns, he and I can converse very simply on what is required on that day.
Most folks we interact with have as little working English as we do Russian. However, there’s a cashier in our local supermarket ‘Korzinka’ who is always pleased to see me so she can use some of her English (and I my Russian). I popped in yesterday and store was uncharacteristically busy. I searched on my Google Translator for the phrase ‘it is busy today’ but then remembered that I am some ways off a reciprocal conversation – and even if I managed to say the sentence correctly – there could be no back and forth. And that’s when I realized how much I miss the simple exchange between strangers.
All my life I have taken for granted, as an English speaker, the ability to converse with those around me – but not just converse but convey light and shade – depth and width depending on the nature of the interaction. This ability, this often-daily connection has been temporarily suspended…and I miss it.
There are many situations where we find ourselves conversing with someone new. Maybe it is purposeful, with utility at its core; there’s something I need from this new person and likewise, a service they may be paid to give. Then there’s situations where a shared experience is heightened by turning to a fellow patron and exchanging views, emotions, reactions, and insights. When you think about it – communicating with strangers is something that happens so frequently, fluidly, fleetingly and, at times, fruitfully – that its position within the framework of our human experience is less functional and more proprietorial.
A stranger is another person with whom we are not familiar. And there are no guarantees that the time of interaction with a stranger will necessarily inform greater familiarity. As I have stated, interactions with strangers vary from the purposeful to the accidental – from the obligatory to the exploratory. What I miss, funnily enough, is the obligatory. Maybe it’s my Englishness…that’s not a rabbit hole I plan to explore here! I think that for the most part, we all recognize and agree with Aristotle that we should pursue a ‘good’ life and part of that goal is an obligation to a degree of civility and adherence to a ‘moral code’. Therefore, what troubled me most, given my newfound challenging situation? Is it that I could be perceived as rude? I mean, there aren’t a great many Caucasian men here in Tashkent, so I would assume most folks would initially surmise my foreign status – and I certainly know the greetings.
No, my melancholic reflection was not ushered in by some worry of being rude.
More plausibly it could be that I always have something to say! Now, there’s some truth to that! I am not going to sit here typing away and pretend that my personality is not underpinned by a social confidence that enjoys watching myself navigate conversations. But again, that’s not what is at the core of the malaise. It is simply because I am not fulfilling that obligation to converse and connect. Every interaction is like a simple melody – it has a beginning, a middle and an end. I have the beginning, it’s typed into my Google Translate and I often practice how to say it so that it’s not too ‘Franglaise’ (or should I say…Englussian…?), but there is the middle part that will come…the listener ready for the a reciprocal comment in Russian…and it will not come. I am in the current sticking point in this stage of my learning where I feel the scald of inability to completely fulfill my obligation.
I am confident, as with my French, that I will reach a degree of simple conversational Russian if we stay in Tashkent long enough. What I will remember, however, is that some obligations should not be seen as being needfully and dutifully filled with dispassionate execution – maybe, more than I realize, some obligations should be coupled with warmth. Why? Because some obligations pin my humanity, badge my morality and can simply make my day.
StoatAubergine 
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