My trip to Uzbekistan was my first time travelling to Central Asia, and it has broadened my global outlook in ways I could not have anticipated. This opportunity, given to me by DEN, has been both deeply impactful and genuinely exciting, shaping not only my academic future but my personal growth in equal measure. But before I get to Tashkent and Samarkand, we need to talk about Istanbul.
Departing from Gatwick, the DEN crew and I landed in Turkey for a 14-hour transit. Within minutes of arriving, one of our group leaders had imposed a full all-nighter city tour upon us, which was equal parts eventful and exhausting for some of us. I, personally, was absolutely fine. Our first stop was the Sultan Ahmed Mosque, more widely known as the Blue Mosque, and I will be honest, it moved me deeply. As one of the many locations featured in the Malcolm X film, standing inside it carried a weight and significance that words struggle to capture. That visit alone would have made the entire trip worthwhile, but the night had much more in store.
After taking what felt like a thousand photographs on film camera, we ate at a local Turkish restaurant, generously overdosed on kebabs and Ayran, and made our way by tram to the Galata Tower. Along the way we picked up raw honey, tried baklava with cold milk and chocolate flakes for the first time, which tasted remarkably like cold cereal. A pleasant surprise. We wandered through the hilly parts of the city late into the night, raced each other uphill, played a spirited game of Mafia, and then piled back into a sprinter van to catch our second flight to Tashkent. We had been in Istanbul for only 14 hours, yet it felt like 14 days.
The moment I stepped off the plane in Tashkent, a warm, humid breeze hit me and something clicked. It felt familiar, nostalgic even, reminiscent of countries I had visited across Arabia and Africa. A home away from home. After dropping our luggage at WIUT and greeting the students there, rest was simply not on the agenda. We had arrived a few days early, deliberately, to explore both the capital and Samarkand before the TIMUN conference began.
Tashkent surprised me at every turn. We visited the Tashkent City Mall, tried frozen yoghurt for the first time, strolled through the Japanese Park where we took paddle boats out on the water, and visited Magic City, Uzbekistan’s answer to Disneyland. At the Japanese Park I also learned something unexpected: there is a significant community of Russian expats in the city, many having relocated following the mandatory military conscription introduced after the Ukraine conflict. It raised questions about development, geopolitics, and finance that I am still turning over in my mind. More research is definitely needed.
A special mention must go to Yandex electric scooters. The sheer thrill of flying through Tashkent’s streets on those high-speed machines has earned a permanent place in my heart.
Our hosts, Nurbek, Saidamir, and Shokhrokhkhan, were extraordinary. They made us feel not like guests in a foreign country but like family visiting home. Every detail was taken care of, every burden lifted from our shoulders. We also explored the city’s stunning metro stations, reminiscent of Soviet-era Russian subway architecture, the imposing Hotel Uzbekistan with its brutalist grandeur, and Amir Timur Square. And then there was the horse riding.
Growing up playing Red Dead Redemption, I had always harboured quiet cowboy dreams. This was my moment. My only previous experience on horseback had been in Egypt, led gently by a local. This time the reins were placed firmly in my own hands. It was rough at first, unpredictable and humbling, but as I always say, you learn the most in practice. By the end I had found my rhythm, channelled whatever Mongol spirit lives within me, and can now confidently say I got the hang of it.
The road trip to Samarkand with Josh, Nurbek, and Shokhrokh that followed was, I will admit, an experience I am unlikely to repeat in a hurry. The endless cramps and migraines made for a long journey. However, the moment we arrived, every ounce of discomfort was forgotten. We began with plov at a restaurant that Nurbek insisted upon, having declared that what we ate in Tashkent was not the real thing. He was absolutely right. We then visited the magnificent Registan Assembly, where I purchased a traditional Uzbek chapan jacket and a chugerma fur hat, the Imam Bukhari Mausoleum, and the extraordinary Shah-i-Zinda necropolis.
Then came the first of May, and with it, the real work began.
This was my very first Model UN conference, and my first meaningful encounter with people from beyond the Western world who share my passions for governance and global affairs. The committee I was assigned to was the Security Council, widely considered the most demanding, and the country I was representing was China. The pressure was considerable. The first day was dedicated to opening speeches from each delegate, with the following two days given over to formal debate. What unfolded was a fascinating mix of diplomatic negotiation, indirect formal manoeuvring, and moments of direct and spirited confrontation. It was inspiring, challenging, and unlike anything I had experienced before. The conference concluded with a wonderful celebration, sharing the secrets collected throughout the three days, and then bowling with our Uzbek friends who had welcomed us so warmly throughout our stay.
This trip has genuinely regenerated my outlook, both personally and academically. It has reminded me how vast and how connected the world truly is. I have enormous gratitude for the friends I made in Uzbekistan and for the leaders at DEN who made this opportunity possible.
Central Asia has not seen the last of me. I am already planning my return.
Ahmed Abdirahman