The Central Asian DNA Strand

Tashkent, Samarkand, and Bukhara--all cities on the original Silk Road. All visited and (sometimes) trashed by Alexander the Great, Ghengis Khan, and Emir Timur, the unifying father of the middle ages. Uzbeks are a culturally complex people, historically.

Of the ethnic, non-European people we have met, most first identify as Tajik, Turkik, or Tatar, combined with the all-important ingredient, Uzbek. We met one gentlemen sitting on the steps of a beautiful madrassa (above) one evening. After chatting for a few minutes, and learning that he was Tajik-Uzbek, we were pleasantly interrupted by about 20 Iranian students whom we had met in a different town a few days earlier. They were all in a Master’s of International Relations program in Tehran.

I introduced Mosel to our newest friend Ruslan. In broken English, Mosel asked him “Do you speak Tajik?” In short order, they were hugging and kissing like they hadn’t seen each other in 700 years. In fact, they hadn’t; Ruslan’s ancestors were “invited” to settle in Bukhara, from Iran, by the aforementioned Emir Timur in the 1300‘s. It was an emotional reunion. The DNA strand is extraordinarily complex in this part of the world. I might even be from here.

Nina: thought I’d break it to you early--our Iranian friends (above) invited us, in all sincerity, to visit them in Tehran next fall. It’d be rude to say no.

Neglected Mosque

This mosque didn’t have a discernable name. It is located on a fairly busy street corner, on the University grounds in Bukhara. Completely abandoned and run down. We couldn’t find a door into it, but we did find a small bricked-up stairwell. All four of us went “Indiana Jones” when no-one was looking, and we crawled up a narrow, circular staircase. We just sat around on the roof, looking at the city, wondering how old it was (and how safe). As far as we could tell, it wasn’t a “World Heritage Site” or something that was meant to be preserved. Just a 1000 year old (?) collection of bricks in the shape of a building. Not something you see everyday.

Mosques and Madressas

Madressas are schools for Islamic study and mosques are, of course, for worship. Since the fall of the USSR in early 1900’s, both of these institutions have experienced increases in usage. In the 1920’s, the Bolsheviks closed more than 24,000 mosques in Central Asia.
Tragically, the mosque above was used as a warehouse by the Soviets. It’s big enough to hold 10,000 people. It was re-opened in 1991. Our guide-book reports that in Uzbekistan, mosques have been re-opening at a rate of 10 per day since the Soviets left.

The Caravan

Our hotel in Bukhara. It was quite a luxurious place to stay after we spent a few nights in some questionable “hotels.” It’s quite common for homes and hotels to have a secluded inner courtyard in Uzbekistan. It’s a great place to escape the heat and dust and wind in the summer. The outside walls of buildings were either plain or boring with very few windows, usually curtained closed. Our room had a balcony that looked into the inner courtyard.

Grave Robbers

We visited a fantastically beautiful mausoleum one evening. My kids are either callous, naive, in-sensitive, or greedy, because I told them if they stuck their heads in this recently robbed, deteriorating crypt, I’d give them each five bucks. I better just get used to paying.

Neo-Tradional Transport

This is downtown Tashkent. 2 million people. Clean, with lots of parks and green space.
I don’t know the difference between a burro, a mule, or a donkey, but this was a fairly common site throughout Uzbekistan. The odd thing was, no-one ever honked at them or got mad or irritated with them. They’d wait at red lights like everyone else, use hand signals, and cause mild congestion, and they were accepted by everyone as normal.


















And when they needed “fuel,” they’d pull over to the nearest park and fill-er-up. The bag that lady is holding is full of fresh grass that she hand-cut with a small scythe.

Two Cuties

Famous Canadians

Edna had quite a fan club as well. At first she thought these girls wanted a picture of our kids, but they shuffled them out of the way so they could hug her better. We had to pose for people at least once an hour.

Samarkand, Uzbekistan

This is in Samarkand. About 200 miles from the Afghan border. The kids were our diplomatic attention-getters, especially because of Kyla’s hair. In this town, probably one out of three people wanted to talk to us. They’re extraordinarily friendly and curious and helpful. But, honestly, the attention started getting to be a bit much. Cody did an admirable job of shifting people’s attention away from his green eyes by asking them where they were from; ie., “leave me alone.”

Edna and the kids are standing in the centre of this picture. This mosque is open to the public.

I will add more info later. Enlarge these images for great detail.

Black Sheep

A shop vendor put these hats out front for people to try on. They’re made of real sheep’s wool. We didn’t actually see anyone wearing them, but they did make everyone laugh. We forgot to check the kids for lice afterwards.

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

It is a pleasantly warm evening and we are sitting in our guest-house in Tashkent, Uzbekistan. We flew here from Almaty today, arriving early enough in the morning to unload our luggage and get to the Chorsu Bazaar by lunchtime.

Tashkent is a beautiful city. It is the fourth largest city in the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS), after Moscow, St. Petersburg, and Kiev. Friendly people, clean streets, lots of greenery, and very colourful attire. It’s a fascinating place. One of our guide books describes it as the place where “Lenin and the Prophet had their high-noon, and Lenin lost his nerve.” Uzbeks are fiercely independent and singular in their sense of autonomy. There isn’t a shred of the USSR left here. Lenin and Marx statues have been replaced by replicas of Emir Timur (a 14th century tribal organizer of the region, and, some argue, ironically, a pre-dawn founding father of the Russian state. Waldo: anything?)

But the Chorsu bazaar: a tiled dome that covers three acres of spices, seeds, and dried fruit, set on a 20 acre open air market, where, as I have described before, you can buy just about anything imaginable. Even cash.

The currency in Uzbekistan is called Som. $1400 Som equals one American dollar. The problem is, the biggest bill they print is $1,000. So, if we trade two single, one hundred dollar bills, we get 280 sheets of paper in return. Bundles of money. The local people don’t usually carry that much money, but because we are on holidays, our pockets were bulging with cash. And banks are scarce outside of the main city, Tashkent.

I asked a store vendor where the nearest bank was and he in turn asked me how much Som I expected for a dollar. I bluffed and said $1600. He called a friend who called a friend and within minutes all four of us followed another friend down an alley into a small store. A nod, a wink, and we were back on the curb counting out three bundles of a hundred and a loose handful. It takes a while to count to 320 if you are nervous and trying to look inconspicuous. Today, I got $1700 in plain view of 3-4 cops and a couple hundred people. I tossed a couple bundles to Edna and said “I feel like saying ’I’ll meet you back at the hideout’”

Box car Co-la (Co-dy & Ky-la)

Professional travellers or homeless vagabonds?

Kalon means 'big' in Tajik.

The same minaret. View from restaraunt.

Ghengis Khan

The images below are of the Kalon Minaret in Bhukara, Uzbekistan. It was built in the 12 century. When Ghengis Khan first saw it, he was so impressed, he let it stand. Then he promptly trashed the rest of the city. Kyla and Cody are standing below it. It was closed for renovations the week we were there. Apparently, if you bribe a guard in Cairo, you can come back at night and climb one of the pyramids. That doesn't work in Bhukara.

Kalon Minaret