Thursday 10 October 2019

Greetings from Samarkand, Uzbekistan!

We've been in Samarkand for a couple days, and tomorrow we're taking the train to Bukhara  We have only 10 days left of this 5 Stans tour.  I'm not sure if Anne and I are sorry it has to come to an end, or if we're glad we will finally get away from each other.  Take your guess...  Here's some of what we've done:

10/2:  Last night we were pleased to meet Ramil's wife, Elena, at dinner.  Ramil had arranged for some entertainment by four Kyrgyz musicians:  a man playing various wind instruments,  two women playing stringed instruments,  and one drummer.  They played and sang country songs.  Several of them played a Jew's harp.  I can't quite figure out how they get sound from it.  We tried a sour chocolate bar popular with the Kyrgyz people.  This morning we had a 0730 flight to Osh where we walked up Suleyman's mountain.   At the border to Uzbekistan,  we said a tearful goodbye to Ramil Samatkulov of East Wind Travel and thanked him for being a good friend to us since Baku, Azerbaijan.   I love him, I wish him the best in life!  We highly recommend him and his company.   We cross the border and turn our watches back one hour.  We meet our guide Bek and we travel through another part of the Silk Road, the fertile Ferghana Valley where we see vineyards,  orchards,  cotton,  cattle.  People are handpicking the cotton.  The government is in favor of more orchards, less cotton, which the Soviet Union introduced here for its own benefit.  The orchards use a lot less water than cotton growing.  The gas lines are still above ground running along  the  roadside.   The mens' headwear is different from the Kyrgyz men.  People stop and stare at our bus as we go by; tourists are still a novelty.   Bek tells us the country separated from the Soviet Union in 1991, and many businesses just disappeared.   We visited a silk factory that was revitalized by a Uzbek man.  We watched the process from silk worm cocoons to beautifully dyed silk scarves, including the artists making color dye and the labor intensive weaving.   We now see signage in Russian Cyrillic and Uzbek language written in Cyrillic letters.  We are cautioned against eating fresh fruit and vegetables here and in Tajikistan.  The local currency, the cym or som, makes me think twice when converting.   $1 = 9000 cym.  So when I'm strutting around with my 66,000 cym, I've got about $7.  Items are all very inexpensive here for us and the local items are beautiful and labor intensive.  It’s hard to walk by and not want to purchase an item, not only because they are beautiful, but also to show appreciation for their efforts and help them economically. 

10/3:  It's a sunshiny morning as we drive to Rishton to see the ceramics artisans at the factory.  They use local clay and local colors except for indigo from India.  They create beautiful items.   We visit Kokand's Friday mosque with its engraved plaster, colored tiles and painted wood.  We drive to the Tajikistan border; we'll spend a couple days there and then return to Uzbekistan.   We have a long walk again, but Anne hires a man with a cart to take our luggage across.  Great idea!  The border guard asked if I was a Miss or Missus!  I told him Ms., but I don't think he knew what I meant.  Strange question.   We meet our guide Adib and driver Abdullah.  We're still in the Fergana Valley where they grow apricots and cotton as we drive along the Turkistan mountain range, part of the Tian Sian range.  Tajikistan is the smallest nation in Central Asia, 
and 93% of it is mountains; there are 7 valleys.   People here don't look Asian, they are descendants of Persians and speak Persian Farsi, but we still see Cyrillic writing. Tajik is the official language, but Russian is spoken.  97% of the country is Muslim, but the government wants the country to be secular.   They resist radicalization.  We see the Tajic Sera reservoir.  They also became an independent country in 1991, and their current president, Emomali Rahmon, has been in office since 1994.  Geez.  We see his picture everywhere over the next couple days.  We learn that Tajiks were never nomads, they never had yurts.   Here the currency exchange is $1 = 9 TJ somoni.


10/4:  We're in Khujand and didn't get a room overlooking the river;  we look at mountains.   We visited a great bazaar on this real busy shopping day.  We saw two unusual root veggies we have to ask Adib about.  Friendly people smile, and we talk with some students from Uzbekistan.  We see a statue of Somoni, the first king leader of the Tajiks.  Nearby is a Lenin monument,  an Afghan War (1979-1989) memorial, and a Chernobyl memorial.   Five thousand young Tajiks were sent to Chernobyl to do cleanup after the disaster, and the majority died within two years.  We are still seeing beautiful roses.  Sitting on the hotel's riverside terrace, we see 3 weddings.  There's an official and friends of the couple, the couple sign some papers, have pictures taken, then they sit around listening to a couple guys telling jokes and playing little games.  Then they all leave for a big party with family and friends at a restaurant.   Anne and I are asked to do a promo for the hotel on their Instagram, which we did.  

10/5: We travel to the old city of Istaravshan, and we pass a huge rice field.  We leave the fertile valley for a drier region.  We visit a blacksmith's shop and see their knives, daggers and swords.  We visit Arbot Palace, a replica of Peterhof in St. Petersburg, where we see 7 brides.  Did I mention a lot of these are arranged weddings?  We are sad to see many unhappy, unsmiling brides.  

10/6: We're returning to Uzbekistan at a different crossing point.  Goodbye and thanks, Adib.  Another long walk across the borders.  Hello again to Bek.  We're in Tashkent, a big modern capital city; we see a variety of faces again.  In 1966 there was an 8.3 earthquake here, killing more than 3,000 people.  We see the Monument of Courage memorial.  We visit the museum of Amir Temur (1336-1405), known commonly as Tamerlane (Temur the lame).  There are Tamerlane monuments everywhere.   Our hotel door card is giving us some trouble.   I'm telling Anne to turn the card this way and that way.  We're about to go to the front desk when Anne runs the end of a straight fob over the 'eye', and the door unlocks.   Brilliant maneuver.   I won't mention that she couldn't figure out what some porcelain things were on the wall in the ladies rest room -- until she was told by one of the guys that she had been in the men's rest room...

10/7:  We see a lot of small Chevrolet cars here.  Well, Korean car maker Daewoo had a factory here for about 10 years, the maximum allowed by the Uzbek government.  After those 10 years were up, the government kinda gave a lease to Chevy to produce the same cars and call them Chevy.  Interestingly, those same cars can't get sold to Russia unless they are called by the Uzbek car company name.  Today we see a Koran from 656, one of six originals.  We see gorgeous mausoleums, madrassas, mosques, tiled domes.  My photographer got great pictures.   Anne buys another purse today, her third.  The Turkey replacement was coming unstitched.   Another bazaar has a great selection of kimchi, the vegetables have a tantalizing smell.  We stack up on goodies for the bus ride, no kimchi.   We see Independence Square.   Next door to our hotel is the fanciest wedding hall in the city, and we listen to loud horns blowing for about 15 minutes  before the bride arrives.  Bek warns us not to start drinking with Uzbeks; we will regret it.  They drink a lot.  Anne and I cross the main street to ride a Ferris wheel.

10/8:  We're on a 2-hour ride on a high-speed train to Samarkand.  The bad part is our reserved seats are facing backwards,  which makes me a little queasy.   We see farmlands and orchards, little towns, and mosques before we leave the flatlands into the hills.  Samarkand is over 2000 years old and was the capital until the Soviets moved it to Tashkent.   Hello to our new driver, Risso.  We see awesome Registon Square, with 3 madrassas from the 15th and 17th centuries.   There are huge tourist groups in this city.  Hey, quit pronouncing Aladdin like we do; say it as AllahDean, the correct way.  The Bibi-Khanym mosque is a beautiful memorial to Tamerlane's favorite wife (out of 4).  This town is full of beautiful tiled domes and buildings, even though many of these buildings have been restored.  We still see many weddings.  Our 4th floor hotel window opens out from the bottom, leaving a gaping chute to fall through to the street below.  I caution Anne of getting too close because, face it, we know how she is.  

10/9:  Today we see the paper making process at an old paper mill, Meros Samarkand Koni Ghil.  Bek explains the whole process.  While there, his wife comes in with her tour group.  We go on to see an observatory for Mirzo Ulugbek, astronomer and grandson of Amir Temur and the Shakhi Zinda (means “the liVing king”) necropolis with its many blue tiled mausoleums of Temur’s relatives and other famous rulers   Gorgeous.  We join the group tonight and see a dance show of the country's history, eat pizza for dinner, and then watch a neat 3D laser light show against the buildings in Registon Square.

10/10:  We take cars through Zavarashon mountain roads to see the remains of Shakhrisabz White Palace built by Tamerlane (Amir Temur), a mausoleum and a mosque.  There are 3 possible burial sites of the Old Testament prophet Daniel, and we see Islam's site.  Because the 3rd is ripping already, Anne buys her 4th purse.  The mountain sides are all rocks that look like they could tumble down and smash our cars at any minute.  People here love the look of gold teeth, and they have plenty of them!   Bek says they are gold leaf and cheaper than porcelain.  We are moving west in the morning.

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