Customer Reviews

Taxi to Tashkent: Two Years with the Peace Corps in Uzbekistan

5 star:		(7)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(0)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

"Taxi to Tashkent" dovetails over two growing genres of writing: Central Asian studies and Peace Corps memoirs. Harboring vast potential for interest, both genres are fast becoming cliche, even while not yet reaching greater audiences. Such is the fate of niche writing. But here, Fleming offers hope.

In general, books coming out of Central Asia are either chock-full of the same regurgitated travelogues (Silk Road, Great Game, KGB, Taliban) with which one quickly grows familiar. Or, they offer contemporary observations of a troubled region with much to tempt the foreign investor into dreaming and much to dissuade the international corporation from acting. In other words, everyone wills himself a TH Lawrence. Fleming doesn't waste our time with any such pontification.

Equally monotonous is the ever-expanding library of the returned volunteer memoir, in which we witness as a young idealist slowly learns what 'dirty' means while playing catch with village children. These are just modern spins on "Innocents Abroad". Fleming also spares us from such repetition.

In "Taxi", we meet a volunteer who finds much to report around him, while resisting the temptation to evaluate his observations for us. Fleming doesn't feel the need to explain it all; he's comfortable with the ambiguity of the surroundings. The reader will feel the same humorous, depressing and frustrating reactions to life-as-fish-out-of-water as do many individuals who have experienced life as an outsider. Further, Fleming doesn't fit in with the average age demographics of volunteers (fresh out of college or retired), so he's somewhat isolated even among his familiars.

Don't worry; you'll still gaze at Tamurlane's crumbling azure domes and the shrunken Aral Sea. But your usual choice of arrogant or naive company will have been replaced by a Toastmaster. It's like riding around with Stephen Colbert out of character. If you want a shelf reference, keep buying Central Asian studies. If you want neo-Victorian missionary diaries, check out yet another returned volunteer memoir. However, if you want hilarious and thoughtful reportage brought raw and unfiltered from two years of awkward situations (a much more honest account of life since globalization), grab "Taxi to Tashkent".

The author has a dim view of Uzbekistan and the message is very negative. Its unfortunate that he had such a horrible experience with the Peace Corp, which seems to have colored his entire experience with the region as well. I lived in Tashkent, Uzbekistan for two years and think it is a very interesting country and I have some very fond memories of the people and culture. If you want to read a fiction novel that accurately portrays modern day Uzbekistan, read The Opportunists by Yohann de Silva. Here's the link: The Opportunists: A Novel

Taxi to Tashkent is a terrific eye-witness account of a Central Asian country. More than a introduction to the food, customs and daily life in this blue-eyed Muslim country, Fleming shows with honesty and humor the challenges of living as a fish out of water. Not only does he give a genuine account of his host country, but is honest about the challenges of being a Peace Corps volunteer. This is a must read for anyone with romantic notions of travel.

Being someone who has not traveled much, but who is interested in knowing about other cultures and parts of the world, I found this book to be an interesting first-hand account of the author's experience. He describes the surroundings and the culture very well from his perspective as an American. I enjoyed meeting the people he met through his descriptions and experiencing something of what it was like to be in the Peace Corps for two years. Well written and enjoyable to read.

As a former Peace Corps volunteer in Uzbekistan myself, I have more than a passing interest in the subject matter of Taxi to Tashkent. However, I think this book would appeal to a wide audience. For one thing, it's a very entertaining way to learn about an area of the world that most of us know very little about. It's also a well-written memoir of what it was like to serve in the Peace Corps in part of the former Soviet Union.

I met this local Austin author at a book fair in Georgetown and traded books with him. At age 40, Tom Fleming found himself bored with his office job in Austin and decided to join the Peace Corps. He spent two years in the former Soviet Republic of Uzbekistan conducting AIDS education. Almost from the beginning, Tom finds the Peace Corps to be more bureaucratic than idealistic, and Uzbekistan to combine much of the worst of the former Soviet Union and the repressive Muslim world. Still, the friendships Tom makes are unforgettable.

If you've ever been curious about what it would be like to serve in the Peace Corps, this is a great eye-opener. Tom lets us get to know the country and the experience through his eyes, and is very self-revealing even of his own faults and stumbles. His writings about Uzbek women are especially interesting -- he took the time to know several women as individuals, and found that the way in which they were treated was much harder to accept that he had imagined.

Taxi to Tashkent is a fascinating read about a man's journey learning about another country and about himself.

Reviewer: Liz Clare, co-author of the historical novel "To the Ends of the Earth: The Last Journey of Lewis and Clark"

I have known Tom for many years. I followed his adventures on his blog while he was there in Uzbekistan. The book really made clear a lot more of what was going on. There were a number of things he just simply couldn't cover on his blog for fear of pissing someone off. In Uzbekistan, you don't want to piss off the wrong people.

The book is written in a great narrative style. As if we were sitting over a few beers (maybe Vodka would be more appropriate) at a local bar and someone was telling me this. A very easy to follow and engaging style.

It took me just over a day to read. I really didn't want to put it down.

The down side: Too short. I'd have liked a bit more expansion on some of the narratives; maybe I'll get it a bit more on the 2nd read through.

I got a definite idea of what it would be like to be dropped in to this country and told 'get on with it'. So different, so alien and somewhat oddly peaceful.

SOME TRAVELERS PINE for more 19th century British-styled travel narratives from Americans. Remember those? Men filled with the powerful thoughts of superiority and such puny limbs that they had to hire half a nation to carry their baggage? Men who wrote about the glorious empire and yet were too ignorant to even tip their hat and say, "Excuse me," in the local tongue. Some folks got no more conscience than a cow in a stampede.
The only American author I have read who emulates the British is our own RPCV Paul Theroux. He never admits to hiring porters but he manages to spit his tobacco juice on just about every living room floor he visits. 'Course, he manages to brag himself out of any place to lean on the bar too.
Tom Fleming's book A Taxi to Tashkent is an American travel narrative, lean and honest without the barbed wire wrappings. It is the best non-fiction Peace Corps book I have ever read. Published only two years after he left Uzbekistan, it is one of two western first-hand accounts of life in a nation traveling through its own Age of Aquarius, reshaping itself after a sixty-eight year Russian occupation. His journalism background serves him well for he does not try to impress us with ten dollar words or opinions as outdated as the British crown and the notion of the Divine Right of Kings. Fleming is one American who relishes our everyman role of just being curious about our neighbors while trying to get along.
You do not have to be a RPCV to appreciate this wonderful book. Travel alongside Tom across the strange borders where you could still outflank border guards by slipping through a farmhouse, listen to the disappointment when his hosts are told that you cannot bribe policemen in the United States, explore the ruins of cities along the fabled Silk Road, and listen to the people like the taxi drivers' wisdom of the heart, "It doesn't matter if you are Christian or Muslim as long as you believe in God."
If you happen to be a not so exemplary RPCV like myself, you may be relieved to read about silly bureaucratic rules that invite the American can-do etiquette to undo them. You might even smile at a faux pas that sounds very familiar, regardless of where or when you served. American government employees dressed in clean, pressed clothing with expensive labels and seated behind huge oak desks surrounded by manuals filled with rules for our Volunteers should take heart: it's easier to catch a horse than break him.

Because I'm headed for Uzbekistan next month, I've picked up Tom Fleming's Taxi to Tashkent. Fleming was a 40-year-old deadender when in 2002 he decided to escape a boring cubicle job by enlisting in the Peace Corps. Possibly because Fleming did have some Russian language facility resulting from an earlier "escape," he was assigned to Uzbekistan.

I'm not very far into this book, but am underwhelmed with his almost 100% negative vision (reinforced by his total inability to see anything interesting between Fresno & my home city Bakersfield), his difficulties in developing even short-term relationships with the Uzbekis (he seldom knows their names, seems to avoid them & complains endlessly about not being able to understand them) & before this with fellow Peace Corps volunteers.

Fleming's definitely a loner with not much positive to say about anyone. He characterizes the young PCVs, those in their 20s, by nose rings & boozing & he doesn't find anything in common with the eldest, aged 73, or a 35-year-old woman. He characterizes the Tashkent area language teacher by her florid makeup & red hair--a wig?--and her threats to send anyone who doesn't pass the language exam back to the USA. Fleming so far hasn't developed any kind of relationship with the doctor to whom he's assigned in the Ferghana Valley. He spends his time in the clinic or whatever office looking at the glacially moving "wristwatch clock."

Fleming periodically speaks wistfully of Tim, another PCV who bailed out in Instanbul before the final destination, Tashkent. I keep thinking "You should have done this too!". So far, the author focuses on the worst in everything. I may change my mind as I move into this book, if indeed I do steel myself to finish it, delete this review & write a more positive one.