A ruin, more glitz and a bit of a worry........(a very, very long day)
Tuesday 28 May 2024
Shit! Another disrupted night's sleep. This time it's the pillows - horrible unbending, bouncy things. One is too thin, and two are too thick. In the end, at about 4am, I solved the issue by folding up the towels I'd got and stuffing them inside a solitary pillow. I awoke with a bit of headache right on the top of my nut, but was just glad to have got a few hours decent sleep. I'd had similar headaches on the two previous days; so pop a couple of Ibobrufen in, and all will be fine as usual.
At breakfast I'm joined by Charlotte and Raessah, of Girl Gang fame. I'm eating my toast when all of a sudden I feel a bit strange. I can't seem to feel the toast in one side of my mouth and I feel like I'm going to choke. In a most unedifying sight, I stick my fingers into my mouth and move the toast to the left, and manage to consume it. But my cheek and lips feel a bit odd on the right hand side of my face - rather like having an injection at the dentist. My mind involuntarily starts to race. WTF is going on? It races further. Shit, am I having a stroke or TIA? I remember the acronym that's been widely publicised - FAST. Face - well it's feeling odd on one side. Arms - I can move my arm freely. Speech - I start to speak and all sounds find. I can't for the life of me remember what the T is! I'm able to move my leg, so get a grip and stop panicking. All is fine, I tell myself. Except, of course, it isn't. I indulge in a bit of self-talk, excuse myself from breakfast, and return to my room to get ready for a full day of being a good tourist.
It's a packed day, and as far as I'm concerned, the biggest one of the trip. The weirdness of Ashgabat is the primary focus of my visit to Turkmenistan. Yes the old ruins, and Silk Road places such as Nisa, Mary and Merv will be fascinating, but I'm here mainly for the absurd.
We set off on our tour of various ridiculous things around Ashgabat:-
Independence Square and Monument
Statues of Niyazov in Independence Square
Niyazov's book - The Ruhnama
Mad old Niyazov's book, Ruhnama, became compulsory in all schools. More info about it below. It's worth a read (the article, not the book, seemingly)
The monument to Neutrality, and an obligatory Niyazov gold statue!
Place of the constitution
The view from "indoors"
The Girl Gang - overcome with excitement after riding on the Ferris Wheel
Mejisler Merkezi Conference Centre - perfect for a Bupa Sales Conference!
The gigantic statue of National Poet, Magtymguly Just outside the city. A mere 60 metres tall!
Behind the statue is the Turkmenistan TV tower. Its decorative octagonal "Star of Oguzkhan" is recognized as the world's largest architectural image of the star and entered in the Guinness Book of Records
Finally, after all the totally over-the-top ostentatious nonsense, we headed out to the ancient ruins of Nisa. and to be honest, it was a welcome relief. Nisa was the the first seat of the Arsacid Empire, and founded roughly 250 years BC. So it's fair to say that it's old! It went onto become a major trading hub of the Parthian Empire but was destroyed by an earthquake in the first decade BC. I have to say that I was rather impressed by it, despite the searing heat and Aly's over-long talk about its history.
Nisa, Chingford!
I think that the heat got to me, because my mind wandered back to my weird symptoms from earlier. Unfortunately, they had not gone away. However, I'd now got pain in around my jaw and teeth on the right side of my face, so I reassured myself optimistically that it was just an ear infection.
Heading back into Ashgabat for lunch we pass the Turkmenbashy Ruhy Mosque, which also includes the mausoleum of Niyazov. It's the city's largest mosque - capable of accommodating 10,000 worshippers. It's being renovated, so we can't get too near it. The Turkmenistan regime is very particular about what people can see close up; and if it isn't in a state of perfection, then they prefer to keep you away. Our bus slows down enough for us to get some photos of this huge building.
Again, we stop for lunch at a very modern restaurant. I'm really having to accept that there is something not right with me, so I share my symptoms with a few of the group. Jeff (the Pathologist) thinks it's a nerve issue - not what I wanted to hear, as I'm fixated on an ear infection. Another member of the group was also in need of a pharmacy stop so Aly takes us into a nearby store. After he has translated my symptoms, and theory on to the Pharmacist, they recommend anti-biotics. I pop one of the big amoxicillin tablets and dare to believe it will work.
Lunch stop - isn't that bow just so cute!
These'll do the job?
We head back across Ashgabat, passing a big gold statue of an Alabay dog, the National Breed. We learn that it is traditional to cut their ears and tails off when they are young, as these are areas that can get targeted if they get into fights. They carry the nickname "The wolf Crusher"!
Woof woof - complete with surround video screen underneath
Now, if you think the dog stuff was a bit mad, the respect with which horses are held in Turkmenistan is on a different level. Think cows in a Hindu culture, and magnify several times. They are a national obsession. Moreover the local Akal-Teke breed are the obsession of the ruling elite. So next we visit an equestrian centre next to the Hippodrome. I have to admit that I'm not a fan of horses, but the beasts we see being put through their paces are stunning.
Things of beauty
From the highly aromatic stables we then head to the Azadi (Turkish) Mosque - so named as it's built in the Turkish style. It is a beautiful building, and we're expecting to be there shortly before afternoon prayers. However, we get a bit of a surprise as it's packed with lots of women all wearing the same headscarves sitting on the floor chatting. It turns out that they're are soon to embark on their visit to the Hajj, and are receiving a briefing on the arrangements. There's a lovely animated and joyous conversation between Raessah, herself a Muslim, and one of the women. Brian translates expertly in Russian. It's a joy to watch humans from such different places connecting so enthusiastically. I wish I could speak just one foreign language well enough, let alone nine!
A place of genuine calm, beauty and community
From the mosque we drive the short distance to the "Russian Bazaar". This market is surrounded by government buildings, so we're told in no uncertain terms to be very careful when taking pictures; even in the Bazaar as the stallholders aren't keen on being photographed either. The bazaar is, compared to other markets I've visited in Central Asia, very disappointing, but most of group pick up some souvenirs. I get a Turkmenistan flag to add to my collection, and three postcards.
Out and about at the Russian Bazaar
University students in their striking red uniforms
Having picked up stamps just before visiting the bazaar, it looks like I can add to my mate Steve's legendary postcard collection. I'm certain to get his usual über-excited WhatsApp message from him when he receives it containing the immortal phrase "I've never had one from there".
Steve will love these
Finally we get back to the hotel at six, and get asked to muster for dinner at seven. I really do not feel right, my face seems to be getting more numb. Let's see how I feel just before seven.
Don't look at my boat race!
Come 7pm, I'm still not feeling it, so reluctantly decide to stay in, Going down to tell Aly and the group in reception I bump into Charlotte and Raessah. They had managed to find something on the limited internet offering that they thought matched my symptoms. Reading quickly on Charlotte's phone, it looked that it could well be Bell's Palsy. The symptoms matched, and the among the list of potential causes, two or three could be accurate. When I tell the group that I'm staying in Jeff says that ought to seriously think about getting a CT scan. Shit, that's serious, and, again, not what I wanted to hear!
I go back up to my room, and my anxiety levels really start to rise. I use the magnifying shaving mirror in the bathroom to look at my face. Instead of a cursory glance, I really looked closely. When I took my glasses off I could see that my eyelid was drooping over the edge of my eye, my nostril was droopy, and my mouth had dropped. I couldn't purse my lips, and worse still, I couldn't actually close my eye. Excuse the language, but fuck! This is now serious and I can't ignore it. I go down to reception, explain my symptoms, and ask them to call a doctor.
The view from my room
Twenty minutes later there's a knock on my door and a uniformed doctor and nurse come in. They're both big burly Russians, and are accompanied by a pretty and demure receptionist who will translate. There's the usual checks - BP is a shade high, but not entirely surprising given my anxiety. They don't seem overly concerned, or directive. "Would I like to go to hospital?". "Er no, preferably not!". Their solution is to offer me two injections - "one to relieve the pain" and "one to relieve the pressure on my nerves". Ok Boris, get out your arrows and go for bullseye then. The receptionist makes herself scarce - the sight of my arse could scar her for life! It ended up being one in each bum cheek, but I've had worse. They give me a pill in case my BP gets too high, and leave with the proviso - call again if it gets worse. Do svidaniya Comrades! Once they're gone, I curse myself for not getting any real details of what on earth they had pumped inside me. Idiot!
When the group gets back from their meal they check in on me. They can see that things have ramped up a shade; and Jeff again says I need to get scanned. I say I'll see how I feel in the morning; knowing that I'm really facing a serious "go, don't go" decision........... The group are making the five hour drive to the eastern city of Mary, where'll they stay for two nights. From there it's back to the Capital for one night, and flights home at shit o'clock in the morning. Mary is the fourth largest city in the country with a population slightly less than Oxford. Would it have medical facilities that compared to Oxford...... hmmm, not a difficult one that! A touch short of those at one of the world's leading medical research centres. Do I go with the group and potentially put myself at much greater risk? Furthermore, do I risk really buggering up the rest of the tour for the others by falling seriously ill out in the country? Do I stay in Ashgabat and get scanned? Do I just call it quits and try to get home early?
When the group gets back from their meal they check in on me. They can see that things have ramped up a shade; and Jeff again says I need to get scanned. I say I'll see how I feel in the morning; knowing that I'm really facing a serious "go, don't go" decision........... The group are making the five hour drive to the eastern city of Mary, where'll they stay for two nights. From there it's back to the Capital for one night, and flights home at shit o'clock in the morning. Mary is the fourth largest city in the country with a population slightly less than Oxford. Would it have medical facilities that compared to Oxford...... hmmm, not a difficult one that! A touch short of those at one of the world's leading medical research centres. Do I go with the group and potentially put myself at much greater risk? Furthermore, do I risk really buggering up the rest of the tour for the others by falling seriously ill out in the country? Do I stay in Ashgabat and get scanned? Do I just call it quits and try to get home early?
Until the morning........
One of the dilemma's of the day was. "Should I tell Cate?" The girls asked a few times - "have you spoken to your wife? Well that's tricky really. I knew she needed to know, but there was absolutely nothing she could do except worry or panic. After all, I was in a closed country - you cannot enter without a Letter Of Invitation. Communication to the outside world was virtually non-existent unless I turned on the roaming on my phone. As far as I knew, she didn't have a Gmail account. So, in short, why set hares running? Wait until there's more concrete information.
*the old genius nutter (Spike) actually said that to me when I worked at Bupa
Comments
Post a Comment