Uzbekistan

Penniless in a Sandy Place


Another silent flight and gossamer landing finds us at Tashkent airport around two in the morning and we are immediately reminded of Moscow and the passport officials quota of one passport every three minutes. The only problem here is that we have four passport officials to get past. We complete the usual forms which asks us to declare any weapons or drugs we are carrying. Are they serious? Yes they are very serious! Shut up Dave and fill in the form like a good boy.
There is an ominously lengthy wait at the baggage carousel. The bundles of all the locals are circulating but no suitcases appear. An enquiry reveals that they are going straight on to Heathrow! Oh no they are not! Oh yes they are! Oh no they are not! They didn't. But the delay gave us some time to find out what was in the Uzbek's bundles. Half the plane had been occupied by locals and they each carried a bundle made from sticky tape and about the size of a very big holdall. We were just speculating whether it would disintegrate if the customs officials asked for one to be opened when one did and it did. Inside was an enormous amount of silk.
Firusa our guide assures us that we will be able to change travellers cheques in the hotel in the morning before we leave for Samarkand. The hotel Tashkent is stark and basic. Its
like stepping back into the 1940s or 1950s. Unscented soap, brown wall paper, decorated glass lamp shades and youth hostel beds with rough sheets. It is adequate, we sleep like logs. The contrast with Beijing is fascinating. Apart from the Australian embassy, every new building in Beijing looks modern and luxurious. Every building in Tashkent built in the last twenty years looks as though it was built twenty years ago and has not had a right lot of maintenance. The whole place is slowly reverting back to the desert because they have no money for spares. Meg reminds me that we have no money for anything.
Breakfast is tasty but the banks do not open before we climb aboard the battered coach for the five hour drive to Samarkand. There is sufficient leg room though and Firuza starts by giving us a description of Tashkent, the squares and the streets have all been renamed since independence. For instance Lenin Square has become Tourmaline the Great square. The square of Friendship has a statue of a large family commemorating a couple who lost their children then adopted twelve Russian orphans then settled in Tashkent. Independence was achieved peacefully because they have no oil, unlike Chechnia. Their flag is green for fertility, white for peace and blue for the sky with twelve stars for the twelve regions and a crescent moon because they are Moslem These facts interest us because we will be spending no free time here. Because of their lack of funds, the effects of the 1976 earthquake can still be seen. Keith, who stayed in Tashkent rather than go to Samarkand reported later that the architecture of the city could be classified as
1. Those buildings destroyed in the 'quake
2. Those buildings that should have been.
We pass a huge lively market as we leave the town, Firuza explains that the site is to be cleared to make a stadium for the Asian Games. I bet that is popular with the locals. She is disappointed that we do not know the name of the President. We still do not know the name of the President. ( There is a small prize for the first person who can tell me). She introduces our two drivers as Russlyn and I cannot remember the other ones name because we had to call him Ludmilla. We notice that as well as their lunch, they are carrying a large tool kit and some spare parts.
Once past the market, the traffic thins out but the decrepit coach cannot increase speed because of the state of the road. Russlyn and Ludmilla seem to know the location of all the major potholes because they use both carriageways to avoid them. We are passing through blackened cotton fields, mulberry bushes for the silk worms and lush green rice fields which is something of a surprise because from the air everywhere looked brown. Domestic animals graze on the verges, horses, cows and tough looking sheep. Some are free to wander some are tethered. Occasionally there is someone to keep an eye on them. The herder may be of either sex and be aged between five and eighty five. Occasionally Russlyn or Ludmilla will be confronted by an oncoming cow being chased by an Uzbek on horseback but this seems less of a hazard than the potholes. It is essential to sound your horn as an intention to overtake because although there seems to be plenty of room, the driver ahead may be about to perform a zig or zag. We see our first swallows of the summer and storks nesting on the pylons as we near the Syrdaria, a river I remember from geography lessons. I am better on rivers than on Presidents. Firuza explains about the immense pollution problems they are having with the Aral sea. We cross the border into Kazakstan, we did not know we had to do this but the road was here before the borders were drawn. Petrol must be cheap in Kazakstan because the road side is strewn with tankers that are dispensing all forms of benzene without the intermediary of a filling station. Fifteen minutes later we swerve round a chicane which marks the border back into Uzbekistan. Russlyn clearly distrusts the Kazak petrol because we now take a fuel stop. The smokers gather in a small sociable huddle, I suppose they spend most of their lives as social outcasts. I watch a new bird that is perched on the roof. It resembles a wagtail but is twice the normal size. Some people want a toilet. There are no toilets. As far as we can make out there are NO toilets. On the drive back, when someone needs a toilet stop, the driver just stops the coach. We are on a flat plain about 160 miles wide and there is not a tree in sight. As you do whatever you have to do, someone with a good pair of binoculars could see you from 80 miles away. We have an hour for lunch in the hotel Samarkand. We spend it trying to change money. No one will change travellers cheques or accept credit cards. So here we are, rich western tourists willing to buy lots of products, food and drink and we cannot afford a drink of water. The hotel Samarknd reminds Meg a little of the Cosmos, very Intouristy, big lobby, a bar that looks like the waiting room in a hospital, The rooms are guarded by the same women as in Moscow but there are fewer prostitutes. Outside there is less traffic and no bicycles. Eleanor comes to rescue us from our financial crisis. Eleanor is a very interesting character, obviously much travelled and from what we can make out a professional travel writer as well as being a company secretary. She is carrying a fistfull of dollars and generously comes to our aid. Firuza change some into soum for us then virtually instructs the bank to change our cheques, the exchange rate is a bit variable but we are not in a bargaining position. It may be the first time it has ever been done so we have created history in an historic city.
Firuza hands us over to Sabira who is impatient to get the tour started. We must reach the end by 6-00pm she explains, it is 2-10.
First stop the Registran....wow...my doubts about the sanity of taking two extra five hour coach trips on our journey home vanish in an instant. This is an amazing place. Three massive beautifully decorated buildings on three sides of a square. the two that face each other are nearly mirror images, the effect is amazing. The blue and gold tiles glitter in the spring sunshine as Sabira waxes lyrical about the Moslamic basis for the decoration. She reminds me of Mohammed our extremely knowledgeable guide in Egypt. Most of the patterns including the swastikas are ways of writing the name of Allah. The tiger and the flowers because they are Suni Moslems as opposed to Sheer Moslems who are more rigid and fundamental. There appears to be a face above the tiger. I ask her about it because I understood that Moslems never used images. Sabira revels in answering questions like the true enthusiast she changes up a gear. Samarkand was on the silk route and Mohammadism was spreading east. The locals worshipped the Sun. They were Zarathustrans. The Registran is essentially a Mosque, a place to trade and a religious school, with living accommodation for the students. It was built in the 11th century and still used as a school until 1930. The Moslem missionaries incorporated the sun, the face, into the design to make it easier for the Zarathustrans to convert in the same way that the early christians took the pagan festival on december 25th and called it Christ's birthday. The mosque has two minarets, one of which started to topple over. They tried putting wedges under it but that did not work so they rotated it through 180 degrees so it would lean against the Mosque instead of away from it. Bear in mind we are talking about something half the size of Nelson's column.
The internal decoration of the Mosque is breathtaking but like the whole infrastructure of the country is starting to disintegrate. They are getting international assistance for repairs. The old students quarters are now rented to traders with goods of the highest quality. Chess sets depict Tourmaline fighting the Indians. There is more beautiful silk and some excellent ceramics. If they had allowed us to access more of our money, we would gladly have parted with it.
Sabira gives us a mean 20 minutes in each of the three buildings then takes us to the mausoleum of the founder of Islam in Samarkand. The locals believe it is a good thing to be buried as close to him as possible. They are a bit dull after the Registran in spite of Sabira's fierce enthusiasm. A group of colourfully dressed village women turn up to pay their respects to their departed accompanied by their holy man. We feel we are intruding and try to slip away but the women want their pictures taken in their finery and flash their gold teeth and chuckle a lot. Outside in the warm afternoon sun the swallows have been joined by swifts and a dark bird with a yellow beak and white under wings. I enquire their name, "Mynahs", replies Sabira. " They never stop chattering" she adds.
" A bit like tour guides" I respond. She sees the joke and hustles us off to the observatory where we arrive at 6-10. It is shut but she persuades the departing staff to re-open for us. A strange shaped building houses part of the giant sextant which Kubla Khan's grandson plotted the position of the stars to an accuracy not bettered until the 1930s and even then the correction was minimal. He was pretty certain the world was round long before Copernicus but recognised that the religious leaders of the time were not yet ready for this information and so avoided the former's persecution. Inside the small museum are some more surprises. In the 11th century alongside Kubla's grandson were the guy who invented algebra. The guy who first came up with the concept of zero, and Omar Kyam who was a geometrician who wrote the poetry for which he is remembered, in his spare time. Instead of taking us back to the hotel, Sabira drops those of us with the energy at the market and indicates the route that will take us back to the Registran and the hotel. The market is terrific. There are no shops on the town, everything you want is in the market. Most of the stalls are closed but bread, fruit and veg and meat are plentiful as are the spices. We are invited to sniff the most amazing smells only half of which we can identify. We get to the Registran just as the sun is setting and add this place to the Temple at Luxor, the Grand Canyon and the Mesquita. In fact it has the additional attraction that Steve and Karen have not been here.
We leg it back to our hotel with ten minutes to get ready for dinner. We are served a light salad followed by haggis filled dumplings. They offer us Russian 'champagne'. We tried this in Moscow and it is a little sweet to accompany food so I asked if there was a local red wine. There was for an additional $6. No problem. I took a swig and remembered prossek which we ordered on our honeymoon by mistake. I check with Sabria to ensure this is what I ordered. Yes that is the local wine. Later Meg finds in her literature a severe warning not to try the local wine. It is 17% rough and sweet.

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