Bukhara, Brrrrrr! January 6, 2020

Greetings from icy cold Bukhara (temperature about 34 degrees).

Thanks to everyone for the concern and advice about my ankle. It’s still a little swollen but the nightly icing (last two nights) has helped. It’s black and blue on the opposite side of my foot from where the swelling is/has been. But I’m persevering and today was a bit easier than previous days. I was able to walk about three miles and getting in and ot of my boot was a lot easier. Mostly it’s stairs that are challenging and unfortunately these cities are filled with stairs. Impossible to go anywhere without climbing stairs. I’m hopeful that in another two days I’ll be good as new.

Anyway, our plan for today was to walk in the oldest quarter of Bukhara, to see the work of one of the ikat artists, and to walk through the four dome route to the Poi Kalon Complex. As it turned out, we walked briefly past a very old synagogue which was closed and went on to meet Ferluzi, who has a tiny shop selling ikat fabric that she designs herself – some from traditional patterns and others from designs she has created anew. She’s quite interesting. We got to the shop, which is not too far from our hotel and it was closed, but we phoned the number on the sign. Her English is quite good and she told us she will be there in 15 minutes. So we strolled a bit in the freezing cold and came back a few minutes before she got there. She’s about 50 years old, has three children aged 8 to 18 (the oldest of which is starting medical college). She’s been divorced for four years and now lives with her children and her parents and her brother. Her family has been involved in the fabric business for generations; her parents have a shop nearby that sells antique fabrics. Given that we did not include the Fergan area in our travel plans, I think she’s the next best thing. All of the fabrics are created locally, some sourced from weavers employed by Ferluzi. She’s very knowledgeable about design and also about Bukhara being part of a family living here for generations.

Anyway, she arrived and within 5 minutes she and he assistant had moved tables of fabrics and pillow coverings, and bags, onto the street in front of the shop… so that they could operate and so that we could get into the tiny shop (about 10’ x 15’) which is packed with fabrics. We did a little shopping (surprise, surprise), getting a beautiful table runner, three scarves, and two items that she is sewing for me (will be ready on Wednesday, with me coming in for a fitting tomorrow). I knew to bring something with me that I could have copied – having experienced not doing this when in Vietnam and Laos. Anyway, I selected two great ikat patterns and she’ll sew one copying the shirt/jacket I brought and the other will be a vest based on a vest she had in the shop, but recreated based on my guidance as to length and pocket placement. Very excited.

By then we decided it made sense to grab something for lunch so she suggested we go to Old Bukhara Restaurant which was about two blocks away. We each had a bowl of soup and some fried “ravioli.” Actually quite good. Then we began to get serious about our walk. We strolled through what is referred to by some as the “four trading domes” – a series of domes stretching, somewhat in procession, about ½ mile. From what I understand, the first “dome” complex was considered the money trading area, then came the gold trading area, then the markets, and then the sleeping areas — because after all this was on the Silk Road…   This “path” leads to the Poi Kalon complex which is an Islamic religious complex located surrounding the Kalan Minaret. The walk from complex to complex was fine. The preservation and also restoration of important buildings in Bukhara was done well and is predominantly natural-colored brick … tiles are reserved for religious buildings… It was all done with care and sense of history and has a very different style from Samarkand.

At the edges of every structure and also within the walls of the buildings are many, many tiny and also larger shops selling carpets, fabrics, jewelry, knives, etc. It’s got that touristy sense of trying to capture the attention of visitors, but it’s actually a bit like a contemporary version of what it must have been like to have traders trying to capture attention centuries ago, as they sold their goods.

Eventually we reached Poi Kalon Complex with its prominent minaret. The story goes something like this… When Genghis Khan arrived in what is now called Bukhara, about one hundred years after the minaret was constructed.. it was so tall he leaned back to see the top and leaned back so far that his helmet fell to the ground. He bent down to get his helmet and his army thought he was genuflecting in admiration.. and thus the minaret was spared while the rest of the city was destroyed.

Because it was so cold (32 degrees) we walked toward the hotel and sought some hot tea en route. We stumbled on something called Wishbone Café (??) inside one of these old structures. I actually had a matcha latte and Mike had hot chocolate. Then we made our way back to the hotel until we headed out for dinner.

When we ate at Lyabi House last night, we asked the waiter for some dining suggestions. He really thought long and hard and then came back to our table with a little torn piece of paper with two restaurants and some written explanation (all in Russian). He told us that any taxi driver would know these restaurants – one was fish and one meat. So tonight we ventured to the fish restaurant (whose name I don’t know because it was in Russian – but something like Shodlik). Anyway, it turned out to be on the outskirts of Bukhara — about 7 miles out — so we got to see the “modern” part of the city, but in the dark. Eventually we reached this very large, brightly lit place and we took a table. It was about 2/3 empty. Then when they realized we spoke English there was a bit of a scramble to figure out how to take our order. The owner then came (didn’t realize he was the owner at first). He was wearing a Reebok tee shirt so we figured he must be the one who speaks English. But, no, he was the owner. Then, he stood at our table and made a phone call — to his son! He’s 18 and speaks some English. So first the son told us that the father wants us to go upstairs to the better restaurant as we will like it better. We vacated the table and up we went.

The upstairs was definitely more upscale than the barren downstairs… but its decor left a lot to be desired… complete with large paintings on the walls done with palette knife dimensionality. Anyway, the son called again to get our order – he told us they had two kinds of fish: with bones and without bones. We asked what kind of fish, but the response was the same: with bones and without bones. We said without bones, but the son said with bones was tastier. We asked about how the fish would be cooked, but there was only one way. We asked about vegetables and the son said “only salad.” We ordered beer (they don’t have wine). Bread came to the table. And soon the fish came. Intermittently the father would bring his cell phone by the table and call the son.. to find out if we liked the food, if there was anything we needed, etc. Then, the father brought the phone by for the son to chat with us about university education in the staes. The son will be studying business abroad and then wants to get his MBA in the states. We chatted about schools and where we lived in the states. He has a friend who was accepted at Penn on full scholarship. I assume any Uzbeki would need a scholarship to study in the US.

While the fish was fresh and good, it was also a bit boring, although it came with a side dish of some kind of spicy tomato-y sauce for dipping. We taxied back and then headed for a little coffee shop near the hotel for green tea and dessert, before they closed.

Take care –

Fern