Farewell Khiva. January 12, 2020

Vidolashuv O’zbekiston — Farewell Uzbekistan…Until next time…

While the prediction was for slightly warmer weather today (low 40s), it seemed colder than the other days because it was overcast and with some wind.

We decided to head for the big bazaar (market) which we thought was just outside the east gates of the Ichan Kala… but apparently the market was moved recently and split into two parts, although no one could explain if the parts were different. What the hotel said was that now there is a big market and one that is a little bit smaller (?) We decided on the big one. They said it was two kilometers from here, but that a taxi would be best as it’s a complicated route. And given the temperatures (30s) and my foot and the road and street conditions, we thought a taxi made sense so we asked the hotel to call a taxi and also to see if the taxi could wait for about an hour while we explored. Then we wouldn’t have to navigate where to find a taxi to get back.

The guy at the front desk who has some English, but peppers every sentence or even ever phrase with “honestly” said “Honestly, that is a good idea… I mean honestly there are taxis but hard to find, honestly”  He also told us that he would like to drive us to the airport tonight (about an hour from Khiva, in Urgench). He said he would like to do it, but of course he will charge like a taxi.  Honestly! So I suppose he will be our driver to Urgench.

The market is a big sprawling area that is probably the equivalent of 10 city blocks by 12 city blocks… perhaps larger. We were clearly the only foreigners there, with everyone else doing actual shopping. Unlike markets in many other places where vendors try to attract customers, it seemed as if people had regular customers and customers knew where they were headed. It’s an outdoor market so I really felt for the vendors who had to sit in the bitter cold to sell their goods. The clothing and accessories were all factory made… and as we, as Americans move to eliminate plastic — I think the Uzbekis are in the midst of a huge plastic surgence. Finally we reached the meat and produce and baked goods areas and the large area devoted to the many different kinds of rice and tea. We stopped at one rice vendor to ask which rice was used for plov… but either they didn’t understand the question (no one in the market spoke even a word of English) or perhaps they did…. she pointed to each huge bag of rice and said “Plov, Plov, Plov”… so who knows.. Maybe all of their rice options can be used for plov.

Customers and vendors alike were very friendly and occasionally said “Hello” or “Bye” and sometimes they said “Italy?” or “France”…. But when we answered “American” they often gave a thumbs up or smiled. We generally followed “America” with “California.” Not clear if they really knew but they gave another thumbs up. So, in response to the questions that some of you posed to me, about any reaction to current American international policy… I can say that we can get BBC News on the tiny, outdated TV in our room (not sure that locals can get it), and people remain very friendly to us. My general experience, having traveled in many countries where one might find antagonism toward the US, and possibly Americans, is that somehow people seem to get it that those Americans who travel, especially independently must be curious and interested in their lives. As such we have never encountered any anti American sentiment directed toward us, although we have understood their antagonism against the country we live in. Only once, were we attacked personally — and that was in Helsinki on May Day during the Vietnam War… when a rather drunk Finn said “Why are you killing little yellow people in Vietnam?” Since we had been living in Helsinki for nearly a year by then, we responded quickly with “We’re here in Helsinki celebrating May Day with friends and are not supporting any killing of yellow people in Vietnam…. and by the way, where in the US did you study since your English is excellent and with an American accent!” We then embraced and had a beer together.

Anyway at one point in the market a woman got very excited when we said we were Americans… she had heard because a lot of vendors were telling others that there were Americans at the market. She was a rice vendor. She leaned over from behind her perch and the bulk bags of rice and grabbed Mike’s coat… and she motioned to her cell phone (everyone has one). She called her daughter to tell her daughter that Americans were at the market. And then she handed Mike her phone. Her daughter was on the line and spoke some English; the mother wanted her to practice her English. From what Mike understood, the daughter was at the university – a psychology major (he thinks). They chatted in simple sentences and the mother was delighted. I think she became a bit of a star in the bazaar for this new friendship.

Then of course after meandering rows and rows and aisles and aisles of the somewhat depressing market, we needed to figure out where the taxi had left us. Probably needed to have kept some kind of marked route. But we did it; found the driver and we headed back to pack and ice my foot for a while. But first we walked to a lunch place close to the hotel and also stopped into what they call the “music museum.” It was in an old madrasa. I think the Uzbeks, given the secular nature of the country, have repurposed hundreds of madrasas into museums, shops, restaurants, craft workshops, etc. The museum was – like the others we’ve ventured into – filled with exhibits that were not very well crafted, dimly lit, and thus unfortunate. I think the history of their music is actually quite interesting and the Uzbeks, like many of the other Central Asian countries uses some fascinating instruments that produce sounds that are different from typical European string and wind instruments. Alas, they could use some help in exhibition design.

And along the way, we stumbled on two more weddings. I think that it is customary for the bride and groom to walk the east / west length of the Ichan Kala (either before or after the actual rituals). It’s sort of a stone paved walk in the pedestrian district. They sometimes make stops along the way into small mosques or to dance to the music playing at shops along the way. Today, I watched the bride remove her 4” white spike high heels (hidden by the pouffy dress) at the door of a small mosque, and for the groom to don a “kufi” (hat), that he had in his pocket… They were inside the mosque for only a few minutes and then back onto the walk.

We head to Urgench to fly to Tashkent… then somehow get to the International terminal in Tashkent and fly to Istanbul and transfer to Baku… It will be a true miracle if we make it, without a hitch. I’m about to repack and am preparing for the high probability that bags could get lost… so I’m moving several essentials to my computer carry-on bag, along with a few changes of clothing…. just in case. We are only in Baku a very very few days and hope we can get a lot in… Then we head home.

More from Baku.

Fern