Observation
In Uzbekistan, I felt a distinctive sense of safety. Not safety in the sense of perfect order or written regulations and procedures, but a different kind of safety — human safety. This feeling appears almost immediately. People welcome you, talk to you, invite you in, and smile. It is as though you are included in the space in advance.
Perhaps this is because the country is, in many respects, at a different stage of institutional development. There is less procedural coldness and fewer rigid frameworks here, and more cultural openness, flexibility, and hospitality. Of course, there is another layer behind this — its own rules, hierarchies, unspoken agreements, and communication patterns. But the first impression is very powerful. It gives rise to a simple inner thought: “I will be accepted here.”
Where cultural conflict arises
Safety feels entirely different in more regulated cultures, such as Russia or Belarus. There, safety often arises not from human contact, but from the predictability of the system. There are instructions, accountability, documents, and procedures. That, too, is safety — simply a different kind. Therefore, when representatives of these cultures begin working together, each brings their own model of safety to the project.
One expects openness, calm, trust, and nonjudgmental support. For this person, constant clarifications, formal recording of agreements, and strict oversight may feel like distrust. The other expects precision, written agreements, transparent allocation of responsibility, and adherence to processes. For this person, excessive flexibility may be perceived as a lack of reliability.
Two entirely different internal reactions then arise.
-
One person thinks: why do they not trust me?
-
The other thinks: why can we not simply do what we agreed?
Most often, neither understands that at this moment both people are defending not their own correctness, but their sense of safety.
An interesting paradox
There is an observation that particularly interested me.
For example, a Belarusian or Russian arriving in Uzbekistan very often genuinely falls in love with the country’s atmosphere. They feel relaxed and experience humanity and hospitality. They enjoy living in this environment. But as soon as the interaction shifts to a work project, the person almost automatically returns to their familiar model of safety. They once again begin building the system through regulations, oversight, documentation, accountability, and formal recording of agreements.
An extraordinary internal conflict arises. What was perceived as warmth in everyday life begins to look like chaos at work. What seemed like freedom begins to be perceived as a lack of structure. What was appealing in relationships begins to cause frustration in management.
We simultaneously love a quality of another culture and resist it precisely where results begin to depend on it.
Invisible efficiency
This is where the most interesting part begins. If we stop arguing about which culture is “more correct,” we can see that each solves different problems. Regulations create structure, while hospitality creates trust. Documentation helps maintain quality, while open communication accelerates the spread of information and the engagement of people. Procedures reduce risks, while relationships help people reach agreements and scale projects more quickly.
These are no longer opposites, but different elements of one resilient system. It is precisely their combination that allows international projects to become stronger.
It seems to me that international projects reach maturity not when one culture teaches another how to “work properly,” but when people begin to see what form of safety each culture provides.
For some, safety arises through rules; for others, through people. True resilience emerges where both are present.
Anna Zavaleeva
3.07.2026