There was so much more to see in Bukhara. At Samoni Park, we visited the mausoleum of Ismail Samani, the 9th century emir who is considered the father of the Tajik nation. He died in Bukhara in 907CE and the mausoleum containing his tomb was built soon afterwards. The structure is perfectly symmetrical (the façades are identical on all four sides) and its architecture showcases beautiful brickwork. It survived the Mongol invasion because it was located within a cemetery which the invaders’ superstitions kept them from entering.
Another brick mausoleum in the park, the Chashma Ayub (Job’s Well) Mausoleum, has an unusual pointed dome. Built in the 12th-16th centuries, it is located where a well has existed since ancient times. The building supposedly contains the tomb of the biblical Job (Ayub in Arabic). People still come to sample the waters, which they consider to have healing properties. The building now houses an irrigation museum.
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| you can get water from the well here |
There was also a colorful hat display in the park. Before the trip was over, I had bought two embroidered baseball caps.
One of the more interesting items for sale in Bukhara, which I did not purchase, was a pee pipe. This device is intended to keep infants dry during the night. There’s one version for boys and another for girls. One end of the pipe attaches to the baby’s genitals and the other end is threaded through a hole in the cradle so it can empty into a pot placed below. Of course, the child has to be tightly swaddled for this system to work.
Batir also brought us the oldest structure in Bukhara, a historic fortress called the Ark Citadel. It’s one of the most popular tourist attractions. The fortress is actually a small city that was initially built and occupied in the 5th century CE. At one time, three thousand people lived within its walls. Inside the fortress, we saw the mosque, the 17th century throne hall, and a series of forbidding-looking prison cells from which unlucky individuals were dispatched to their death at the whim of the ruling emir. In fact, it figured prominently in the late 1800s, as Russia and Great Britain battled for control of the Bukhara khanate in what is called “the Great Game.” (Note to self: read Peter Hopkirk’s The Great Game: The Struggle for Empire in Central Asia)
The Ark Citadel was occupied until 1920, when the Soviet army invaded Bukhara and destroyed much of the fortress. Nowadays, it’s a peaceful (and crowded!) place filled with museum exhibits and artisans practicing and exhibiting their crafts. Archaeological excavation is still going in within the fortress.
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| the mosque in the fortress |
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| suzani embroidery for sale in the fortress |
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| metal worker in the fortress |
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| throne hall in the fortress |
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| clothing exhibit in the museum area |
It was at the Ark Citadel that I had my photo taken with a couple of local women who were curious about these American tourists.
Directly across from the fortress is the Bolo Hauz mosque, also known as the “Mosque of 40 Columns.” Unlike most of the other mosques we’d seen in Uzbekistan, this one is an active mosque. It was built in 1712, making it the last building constructed in the pre-modern era. The twenty carved wooden columns plus the iwan (sort of like a porch, it’s a vaulted space walled on 3 sides, open on one side) were a 20th century addition. When you add up the 20 columns plus their reflection in the pond, you understand how the mosque got its nickname. For many years, it served as a “Friday mosque,” i.e. a mosque that hosts the weekly Friday noon prayer service.
We’d already seen multiple examples of Islamic architecture in Bukhara but we weren’t quite finished yet. We made a stop at the Po-i-Kalyan religious complex, which consists of the Kalyan Mosque, the Kalyan Minaret, and the Mir-i-Arab Madrassa. The Kalyan (or Kalon) Mosque is Bukhara’s main congregational mosque, where observant locals gather for Friday noon prayers. Its name means “grand” mosque and it can accommodate 10,000 worshippers. The minaret and the main part of the mosque date back to the 12thcentury but construction of the mosque continued until 1514.
After more than a week in Uzbekistan, I was reaching my saturation point with the mosques, madrassas, minarets, and mausoleums. I was eager to get out of the city and immerse myself in more natural surroundings. Fortunately, A Day in the Life, part of every OAT program, came to the rescue.
We set out one fine morning right after breakfast, driving north from the city to the village of Nayman, a suburb of Bukhara. Along the way, Batir pointed out fields of mulberry trees. These are grown to feed the silk worms that produce the silk for which Uzbekistan is famous. Under the Soviets, most of the fields would have been planted in cotton. Nowadays, farmers are free to plant whatever they want.
Once we reached Nayman, we met with the head of the village administration. We learned that Nayman is one of five villages under the same administration. The jurisdiction includes a population of 3500 people (in 880 families and 822 houses). The land actually belongs to the state but farmers can lease the land, hire workers, and keep the profits from whatever crops they produce. The local government provides social welfare services, while a women’s council and a youth council address the needs of these groups.
We went to the home of a local family headed by a retired couple in their 70s. Like everyone we met in Uzbekistan, our hosts were eager to welcome us and teach us about their culture. They didn’t speak English so we relied on Batir to translate.
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| Our hostess was a retired teacher. |
They live in a compound along with their son, daughter-in-law, and grandchildren. We all admired the large courtyard garden, which was planted with colorful flowers, grapes, and cherry, pomegranate, and apricot trees.
The family also keeps a few goats.
The compound includes an outdoor kitchen that the family uses in the warmer months as well as a spacious, modern indoor kitchen. In the outdoor kitchen, they burn the stems of cotton plants for fuel.
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| a heap of cotton stems |
We quickly got to work preparing our lunch of traditional foods.
Under expert supervision, I tried my hand at making chuchbaras and two types of somsas using a simple dough of wheat flour, water, and salt. I filled the chuchbaras with a mixture of potatoes and onions and the small flat somsas with a mixture of sorrel and onions. Both were then fried in sunflower oil.
We also made larger somsas with a fatty beef and onion filling. These were baked in the outdoor tanduroven alongside a flaky multi-layered bread called fatir, prepared by the daughter-in-law.
At the same time, our hostess was preparing the traditional pilau in a large wok-like pan. She started by cooking meat and carrots in oil for about fifteen minutes, then adding chickpeas, raisins, garlic, cumin, and rice that had been soaked in salt water and drained. Everything was sprinkled with salt, and hot water was poured on top. The mixture boiled until the water disappeared.
We had worked up quite an appetite by the time we sat down alongside our hosts to feast on the hearty meal.
On the way back to our hotel, we stopped at Korzinka, a large supermarket, to pick up provisions for the next day’s long bus ride to Khiva. There was plenty of fresh fruit and vegetables, nearly all grown in Uzbekistan with the exception of the bananas.
I noticed some differences in packaging as well as some unfamiliar products.
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| I assume these are chicken-based. |
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| the original string cheese |
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| yes, that's canned horse meat |
And speaking of food, I remember trying a few new dishes in Bukhara. In the hotel’s lovely breakfast room, I sampled chak chak, which is fried pastry in a sweet syrup, sprinkled with powdered sugar. It’s a popular dessert, but you can eat it anytime you're in need of some extra calories.
When we had a group lunch at the Chinar Chayxana, we all had a traditional meat dish called jiz (fried strips of beef, tomatoes, and onions, sprinkled with sesame seeds), served along with French fries.
At one group dinner, the music and dance performance was more memorable than the main dish of meat and assorted vegetables.
Another night, I took a taste of lagman, a Central Asian noodle dish (with meat, of course) that one of my travel companions ordered. I’d actually seen lagman on the menu at a Uighur restaurant in Fairfax.
Below you see the figures that often greeted us at the entrance to an eating establishment, from Tashkent to Samarkand and Bukhara. I wondered if we’d come across them in Khiva, the next stop on our Silk Road journey. Very soon, I would find out.
