Mosques, Mausoleums, Synagogues (Blue Sky). 1/3/20

Greetings from Samarkand
3 January 2020

What a day… I will try to describe it as succinctly as possible, but it’s a lot.

We were up quite late last night trying to assess my foot situation, and I stayed up late to write last night’s blog post. So we didn’t get to bed until about 2:30 am. We were awoken suddenly at around 5:30 am when there was no power at the hotel (maybe the whole neighborhood; not sure). Not really certain what woke us up, but I guess it was the utter silence – no sound of radiators (heat depends on the power) and no light coming from the walkway outside. Anyway, we realized the power was out and then wondered how long it would take to restore. We heard a lot of noise outside, so we figured they were trying to fix the situation. Power was restored a few hours later and we fell back asleep and slept in past the breakfast time. So we got a late start. Given that my foot was swollen and I’m walking rather slowly, we decided the best thing to do was to hire a taxi for a few hours to take us to the places we wanted to visit and that way I could minimize walking (and preserve my walkability to walking “within” the places rather than having to walk “to” the places as well).

Our plan for the day was to go to Shah-i-Zinda (a huge necropolis) and the Gubaz Synagogue (which services all 250 Jews in the Samarkand region and which we were told would be difficult to find). We got a local Samarkand taxi (actually more like a gypsy cab) on the street – an older driver who was very friendly and who had lots of gold teeth, but who spoke not a word of English. However, given how much we’ve traveled that wasn’t an issue as we always manage to find some way to get our message across. So off we went to Shah-i-Zinda. (Prior to departing the hotel, along that treacherous path which was quite muddy today, we had determined after a bit of research that we’d go to a restaurant called Straya Abra so the hotel made the reservation.)

The Shah-i-Zinda houses many mausoleums and buildings from the 9^th to 14^th centuries and also some from the 19^th century. There are a lot of legends about Kusam ib Abbas, a cousin of Muhammad the prophet. They say he came to Samarkand with the Arab invasion to preach Islam and that he was beheaded for his faith, but he never died… that he went into a deep well and is living there now. Anyway, the complex includes about 20 buildings. As we approached the site, I was a bit apprehensive as you could see from the parking area that there was a huge, steep set of stairs with very high risers… equaling about four flights of stairs! In some parts there was a railing; in other parts, no railing. But I was determined and figured that if we climbed slowly, I could do it… one step at a time, putting both feet on each step. It took a while, but I made it to the top.. and then there was a lot of walking and smaller sets of stairs.. But it was worth it. Zinda (as the locals call it) is spectacular. I’m only posting a few of the hundreds of photos I took for fear of making this email too large to be received.

It is rare for historic sites to endure as long as this one, through centuries of war, natural disasters, progress, and development. Maybe it is because it began with one building and then there were so many additions over the centuries so the area remained sacred. Also it houses the remains of many famous people. As a result there are layers of history and architecture that intersect along narrow streets that climb the hillside. It’s a truly amazing sight to behold – with tile work everywhere in vibrant blues and greens and hints of yellow. Can’t even imagine how many servants had to be employed to create each of these structures. In a way it’s just a narrow walking street lined with mausoleums, climbing a hillside. It’s obviously a popular place to visit as there were many people there – mostly Uzbekis and Russians. Didn’t hear any English.

After about 90 minutes we made the descent down that staircase … slowly and carefully! The taxi was waiting and we asked to go to the Synagogue (the only one in Samarkand). The driver didn’t know it, but we had read a bit about it and could find it on our map and on the GPS, although the exact location was not totally spelled out. We knew we could get close. According to one article, it was important to phone the rabbi in advance. So we did that. Unfortunately, he didn’t speak any English – only Uzbek, Russian, and Hebrew. (No help for us, but I said we were from California and maybe he understood a little.) Anyway, the taxi driver had already left the car and gone to speak with some other drivers and when he came back I called the rabbi again and let the taxi driver talk to him. It now seemed like we would make the effort to go there. Actually, we knew from the map that it was only about a 15-minute walk from our hotel, but given the path and the quality of the little streets.. and my foot… we thought it was not a good idea to walk.

Anyway, we followed the GPS as the driver headed there and he was definitely going on the route. As we got very close, a man in a leatherette jacket (about 60-years-old) approached the car and the driver rolled down his window and the man said “Shalom!”  We figured he was looking for us and was going to walk us into the small street and then the rabbi would be there to open the synagogue. But , we learned quickly, he was the rabbi. No beard, clean shaven, wearing a cap (similar to Mike’s). So we all walked about a half-block to a small building (that had the star of David painted on the outside). The taxi driver came too, since he had never been there and seemed curious.

So, given that there wasn’t any common language… here is what I believe to be the situation. From some research we did, the Jews have been in Uzbekistan centuries before Genghis Khan arrived, and at various points in history there was a thriving community. Today the numbers are very small and here in Samarkand there appears to be anywhere from 50 to 250 Jews living in the city. Different books have different numbers. There were more than 100,000 Jews here in Uzbekistan in the 1980s.. By 2002 there were only 6,000 and now about 200.

And from the “conversation” with the rabbi — There are actually two synagogues in one building separated by a little covered walkway (which is probably quite sweet in the summertime since there are vines that would be green or flowering). Really, I’d say there are two “rooms” rather than two buildings that comprise these two “synagogues.”  One is for Ashkenazi Jews and the other for Sephardic Jews. When I said my family was Ashkenazi, he unlocked that room. It’s pretty spartan with a big heater in the center. On one side of that heater was a shelf with the prayer book. Around the edges of the room were tables with chairs facing toward that heater. They could probably seat about 20 people in that setting. I asked where the torah was kept, he said they had three torahs.. all were kept in the Sephardic side, I think. He kept pointing to photos (pasted onto a cardboard) hanging on the wall with pictures of all the rabbis for the past 100 years or so. He kept pointing to one particular rabbi saying “New York, Israel, Samarkand” so I suppose this one rabbi who was there in the 1970s, I think, came from NY and went to Israel (perhaps to study?) and then chose to settle in Samarkand?  He also proudly pointed to a 2016 calendar on the wall that was from the Uzbeki Jews of America and Canada – there were photos of some kind of convention or celebration. We checked out the advertisements on the calendar and they were all from businesses in Queens, so I suppose there is an Uzbeki Jewish community in Queens (NY).

He then took us to the Sephardic side, which was a bit more upscale than the Ashkenazi side. It had more of a bimah, and he pointed to the doors behind which the torahs were kept. Again there were a few memorabilia of this American/Canadian Uzbeki Jewish community association. I think he asked where my family was from (although maybe that wasn’t the question), but I answered Romania. The rabbi was part of the Sephardic side of the synagogue but he was rabbi to the whole congregation, and perhaps they worship together in the Sephardic side. He pointed to the area for women, so I’m guessing the synagogue is conservative or orthodox although I think it’s all a big blend here. He didn’t ask Mike to put on a kippa but Mike was wearing his cap so I suppose he was OK… We took pictures of the sanctuary and of the rabbi and the rabbi took pictures of us. We put American money in a little cup that was not overly visible and near the bimah, but that seemed better than giving it directly to the rabbi. He thanked us as we left and said “Shabat Shalom!”

We returned to the hotel and later took a taxi to the restaurant where we had a reservation. When we arrived (it’s in a totally different part of the city – in a newer section) and in an interesting building that is a hotel (more upscale than ours – but we had eliminated all hotels that were not in the very old section of the city) at the restaurant, it was closed. So the taxi called our hotel and they recommended a restaurant called Samarkand (how appropriate and creative). When we got there, we walked into what I think was a huge wedding with very very loud music and lots of people. The host said in very weak English – upstairs, no smoking, no music. We said “great!” and up we went – two full flights.. to another world from the downstairs disco. A quiet restaurant room that seats about 120 people. While there was supposedly no smoking, there was actually a lot of smoking. But no music.

The menu was pages long, with some very strange English translations for a few of the dishes. It took us some time to decide and to figure out what each dish might be… And again the choice for wine was red or white… We opted for red which turned out to be an Uzbeki wine… not too great, but not terrible. We selected three dishes – one appetizer and two mains.. but none were available. We went to another round of decisions but those were not available either. This was beginning to feel like our travels in the old Soviet Union many years ago, when they gave us menus that were about 10 pages long, but they would always say “Beef Stroganoff”.. and we would say, “ no, maybe something different” until we realized they only had beef stroganoff. Anyway, we ordered a dish called “assorted marinated”… which we assumed correctly was assorted marinated vegetables (like we had seen in the markets). But when it arrived, it was just pickles and pickled tomatoes.. We also ordered one chicken dish and one lamb dish.. Food was OK.. maybe on a scale of 1 to 10 I’d give it a 6. When it came to dessert, there was a list of about 15 choices but all they had was vanilla ice cream.

About midway through our meal, the four guys (in their 40s) at the adjacent table leaned over and asked where we were from (in very basic, hesitant English); turns out (we think) that these are all four cousins, with three living in Samarkand and one visiting from Tashkent. They were pretty high – having downed a whole bottle of vodka along with beers. Anyway, they wanted to talk – a lot. One of them had lived in the states for two years having attended some kind of college in Clearwater Florida and also spent time in St. Petersburg. He loved Florida. He explained (many times) that he came back to Uzbekistan in 2005 and has not had the opportunity to speak English. He studied International Business and he currently works as an exporter of peppers (I think). Frankly, his cousin’s English was better than his. They are all Turks living in Uzbekistan (not sure how long they’ve been in Uzbekistan, but they clearly identify with being Turkish). They were excited to learn we had traveled to Turkey three times and that we had been to Antalya, although I believe their families were from Istanbul.

We took pictures and selfies and then they headed out (we sort of waited for them to leave, fearful they might offer to drive us to our hotel, but they were totally smashed). We left a few minutes later having the restaurant get us a cab.

Back in the hotel safe and sound. Looking forward  to another exciting day tomorrow.

Fern