In the lands of Allah, what surprises me is that alcohol is part of daily life in Uzbekistan. Only extremely conservative muslims refrain from drinking alcohol. Probably for health reasons I bet. Although traditional shops prohibit the sale of pork and alcohol, don’t let that fool you. Big city restaurants generally offer these food and drinks openly.

What really surprises me is that consumption of spirits, as in tradition among former soviet states, is higher here than in Western countries. Uzbek favourites include vodka, brandy, and whiskey. Girls opt for wine, although local wines don’t really live up to international standards.

And you would think that in a religious society that was enough, but there are some good breweries in Tashkent, Samarkand, and other cities that produce varieties of lager, ale, and stout among favourites.

With all the media attention on fundamentalist Islam nowadays, it is hard to get your head around the idea that mainstream Islam can still be a particularly secular religion. It is definitely a sensitive topic among us. Probably not a big deal to Uzbekistanis. With the thought of extremist islam in the back of my mind, I see myself being really uncomfortable drinking in a muslim country.

However, this is no way to live. We need to come to terms with our expectations and reality. Uzbekistan is a muslim country, but there is no reason to assume that it is like it’s other more notorious muslim brothers. We need to frame their drinking culture differently. We need to understand that no society is static. There will always be agents of change, due to social and economic reasons. This was never about being muslim, this was about the present, and about change. Cheers to that.

Uzbekistan and Central Asia in extension used to be the centre of commerce and cultural exchange. It was an area where peoples and empires fought desperately to gain a foothold in. For much of history, dominance of Central Asia was on crucial to unlocking the wealth of the silk road. But that was a time before steam powered ships, before oil, before memes, before Fortnite.

Uzbekistan according to an outsider:

Empty deserts. Or barren deserts if you want to be more dramatic. The occasional yurt. Monuments of Lenin, Stalin, and straight faced communists posing with their square jaws. Suspicious glances from locals in long overcoats. They all claim to be descendants of Genghis Khan (they very well might). They all have beards. The country isn’t rich but they are well educated, just dealt a bad hand by their environment. Apparently they are also all very friendly.

And sand? Horses? Muslims? More sand? And doesn’t it sound dangerous with a “stan” in its name? Also, when was the last time we’ve heard of Uzbekistan in the news? Seems like a boring place, all things considered.

But in its own right, Uzbekistan is a truly important region, located strategically between Russia, China, and the Middle East. It has been largely ignored on the geopolitical arena, as its location in Central Asia holds little to no significant importance among the political tensions today. Even when tourists visit, Uzbekistan is reduced to a desert-land theme park pit stop on their world tour.

But I would venture to say that it is a good thing, as Uzbekistan has still been able to retain its local culture and traditions. It is never subjected to global trends, and the experience one gets in Uzbekistan is always the same. The people are as in control of their destinies here as anywhere else on earth. They have survived conquerors, they survived brutal regimes, and they survived dictators. They might not have recognition. They might be misrepresented. But to the people here, that is okay. Because they understood what they got in the trade. Serenity.

Behold, the Tashkent metro, Uzbekistan, also an underground art gallery. Beautifully crafted and free for public consumption. Before you say it, yes this isn’t street art. But what else was there to find in this post-soviet style state? I doubt Stalin was big on self expression, and that attitude seems to have held on till today.

The contrast between the dusty mad max city above and the shimmering tunnels below surprises even the most jaded tourists. It is a masterpiece of glazed columns, decorated ceilings, and shining tunnels. It is so beautiful that photographer Amos Chapple said “Soviet elements mingle with ancient Islamic designs. Angular shapes and sharpe edges expresses the power of the Russian empire, while sinuous lines and emerald hues represent Arabic styles.”. Obviously, according to the expert, the metro art is very beautiful, a mesh between the traditional Islamic patterns and rigid, powerful themes.

Yet, despite the fact that it is about as central to the city as it gets, when you go there, theres literally nobody else admiring the art. Because we don’t truly see art for the history, do we? We see them because they’re displayed in a museum. Because they’re popular. And if we don’t present them the right way, they might as well not exist. There is nothing wrong with how the art is presented, it is how we perceived what good art is.

Someday, we may realise the value here and be appalled at how little attention we paid to these art works. Or someday we may just tear it down so they can extend the train system. Honestly I don’t know. But just because art in our minds belong in a gallery, doesn’t mean that art in a different place holds any less meaning. I certainly believe that this place deserves more travellers, regardless of how we present them.

The art on display is fancy, and some people might say they don’t deserve to be showcased in a depressing place such as the metro. But public transport is intrinsically depressing, so tell me why don’t we colour our commutes more?