Adventures with Julia

Friday, May 17, 2013

Today’s big adventure was a two hour hike in the Ala Arche (Colorful Juniper) National Park. As we drove to the park Olga answered a number of questions. She thinks the city is so westernized because it is a melting pot of people from all over Russia who were dispersed to these lightly populated regions after the revolution. People with money or education were not allowed to stay in their original homes. Her family is a case in point. Her great great grandmother was the daughter of a wealthy family in Ukraine. One day in 1916, she, her parents and 2 sisters were forced along with many others to leave with just the clothes they were wearing. They were relocated to a tiny village in Kazakstan and assigned a single room in a barracks. Also, the country is 65% Muslim, but “only half attend mosque and most of them drink, eat pork and swear”. And, there is a large presence of Russian and US troops in the area that add to the diversity.

That led directly into our question about politics and the US presence in Kyrgyzstan. Turns out they are intertwined. The first Kyrgyz president was appointed in 1991. He was a scientist at a university so everyone thought he would be a good president. He was for several years, but in time he began to appoint family members to government positions. By 2005 people did not want him any more and revolted. Rather than fight, he abdicated and went to Moscow to teach science in another university. It was called the Tulip Revolution.

The second president, Kermanbek Bakiyev, was also appointed, but he was bad from the start, supported by the US who were permitted an airbase near Bishkek, he appointed family and cronies to high positions and stole 3 billion dollars from the national treasury. Olga referred to him several times, without apology, as a “bastard president”. In 2009 he evicted the US base in exchange for a 2 billion dollar loan from Putin. That money was to be used to build roads, power plants and other infrastructure that never got built. Then he renegotiated the lease with the US to allow them to have a “transit station”. Later he told Putin that he had not granted the US a base, only a transit station, which Putin had not specifically disallowed. He did not return the money to Putin, who was furious. The Russian media, which was influential in Kyrgyzstan, ran an anti-Bakiyev campaign that led to protests, bloody riots and an eventual coup in May 2010. Bakiyev escaped to Ukraine, which gave him asylum. The power vacuum was seized upon by the mafia and drug lords to benefit themselves. Under the guise of inter-ethnic violence, which Olga said did not really exist, laborers in the south of the country were paid to kill both Uzbeks and Kyrgyz indiscriminately to destabilize the Fergana Valley region. Violence inevitably escalated. Over 200 people died, 300,000 lost their homes and 100,000 crossed the border into Uzbekistan as refugees.

Not wanting to repeat the problems, it was decided to appoint someone for a two year term only, while a constitution was written and an election was held. Of the 13 candidates, only the one female candidate would take the short term job. Her name was Rose. According to Olga, she turned the country, which was on the brink of civil war, around. She did what men don’t do. She asked the international community including the UN, the US and the Russians for help to resolve the problem in the Fergana Valley. The fighting there had become so fierce that many homes were burned to the ground and people were killing each other for no good reason. As result of Rose’s negotiating skills, the US sent building materials, tents, food and supplies. The Russians sent in soldiers to clear away the destruction and build houses. Mediators were brought in to help both sides resolve their issues and within 2 months the problem was resolved. She helped draft a new constitution and left when her term was up as she said she would. The people loved her. Meanwhile, Olga does not know how large the US transit station is, but she knows there are 2000 Kyrgyz working at the base…… er, station. It and the Russian base are only 60 kilometers apart.

The fourth president is the first elected one since independence. His name is Almazbek Atambaev and he has been in office about a year. The people are hopeful that he will be good, but it is too soon to tell.

By now we have arrived at the park and Olga, who says a lot in a very short amount of time, making it very hard for me to take notes, switches gears and tells us that the par is the home to an international school of alpinism. The English only school, called Ratzek, trains hundreds of people from all over the world in many skills related to both winter and summer alpine activities.

Olga and Misha, our driver, suggested a hike to a waterfall about 3.5 kilometers distant. We knew it would be uphill, but we were a kilometer into the hike when we realized the vertical gain would be over 1000 feet nearly straight up. It was slow going but the alpine scenery was gorgeous, the wild flowers in full bloom, the air clean and comfortable with gathering scattered clouds. Mark had his altimeter, so we know that we started the hike at 7100 feet and at 8300 feet he said he had had enough and we turned around. We did not make it to the falls, but we could see them in the distance and could see the trail. To us there was not enough pay off to continue. We hung out in an alpine meadow for awhile taking photos and then hiked back down the mountain to lunch at the trailhead guesthouse. Just as we left the guesthouse, the sky began to rain. Good timing. About half way back to town we left the rain behind and had to stop at a huge field of red poppies. They were so beautiful, even Misha and Olga were taking photos with their phones.

Back in town, Misha drove us around the center while Olga told us what was important.
We stopped to see statues of Lenin, Marx and Engle, which have been relocated to back streets rather than city center. They are still in public view because 30% of the population is Communist. We also stopped at the Greek Orthodox church. It is rather tired and unimposing, but does sport a few onion domes. Olga said it was used as a warehouse during the Soviet era and that the other, bigger church had been taken down by the Soviets to make room for a road. The people were so upset over it, that the road had to be built around the church site and a round about was put there with many flowers. A service was in progress when we went inside. I enjoyed listening to the chanting and singing. There were no seats in the church, but the walls were covered in religious paintings and icons. The few people in attendance seemed very focused on the service and their prayers.

At 5pm we drove a short distance to Olga’s grandmother’s home. She had arranged for us to have tea with her grandmother and see the home they share. Olga’s 85 year old grandmother was quite charming and totally present. She answered all sorts of questions about her life during the Soviet years, which she enjoyed because life was simple and secure; about WWII, which was not so bad as all 6 of her brothers went to war and came home uninjured; and especially about her large family, which we met going through the thick family album. She and her second husband built the house in 1955 and she has lived there ever since. When she dies, Olga will get the house. We learned that Olga is engaged and that her husband to be will live in the house with her and her grandmother until granny dies.

It was 7:20pm when we returned to the hotel. We got a bite to eat in the club lounge and called it a long day. Tomorrow we head east along an old silk road artery toward Lake Issyk-Kul.

OPPS! There was a big error on the last post. I titled it Turkmenistan and it should be Tajikistan. Sorry for any confusion that may be causing. Was very tired when I sent that post at midnight. Julia

Monday, May 13, 2013

Husrav, Mark and I headed south from Khojand for Dushambe, the capital of Tajikistan, with a new driver and a truly air conditioned vehicle. The air was fresh and the sky mostly sunny and improving. For about an hour we drove through fertile fields full of vegetables, apricot and apple trees, rice and cotton. The landscape slowly began to undulate as snow capped peaks came into view. Green fields prevailed for another hour with mulberry and poplar trees marching along the roadside mile after mile. It was difficult to keep from asking our driver to stop every mile for more photos. Gradually the hills grew steeper and the fields more sparse. As we ascended, the peaks filled more of our images until they seemed close enough to reach out and touch. Up and up we went until we reached a tunnel. Built by the Chinese, it is 5.6 kilometers long and bypasses the top of the 11,086 feet peak.

Then down down down a very steep, two lane road with few barriers to separate us from the precipice. I was uncomfortable much of the way, until our driver got the message to slow down. At one point he was talking on his cell phone and I about came unglued.

Finally, we reached the river at the bottom of the canyon and followed it through a pretty and narrow valley with a tiny village until we began to climb again. The canyon walls were composed of uplifted waves of pink and red iron ore. This time the assent was steeper and the landscape mostly rock, scree and recently fallen snow leading up to the stark peaks immediately in front of us. Near the top of the second pass, which was only slightly lower than the first, was another tunnel about 5 kilometers long. This one, however, had been built by Iranians and was in a shambles. Countless water-filled pot holes covered the roadway, which was not lighted as the Chinese tunnel had been. It was nearly impossible to see where to go and our driver managed almost by braille along with the other cars and trucks doing the same. Sometimes we were on the wrong side of the road negotiating a pot hole while passing another car doing the same in the opposite direction. It was chaotic. Husrav said the road was to be closed in a couple of days so the Chinese, who have been hired by the Tajik government to repair the tunnel, can begin the task. Once the tunnel is closed the only route will be over the pass on an even more dangerous road. Am sure glad we did not have to do that.

Out the other side of the second tunnel, we all breathed a sigh of relief and began the steep descent down the better and more protected roadway than the first descent had afforded. On the way down we went through at least a dozen concrete snow sheds. Shortly before we reached the valley floor, the driver stopped beside the raging river to get his car washed by a guy who advertised his services by propping up a hose with water spurting out of it. It was a novel and cheap and apparently essential service. Husrav told us that cars are not allowed into the the capital unless they are clean and after going through the last tunnel, our car was anything but clean. The driver and car washer worked together until the car was totally clean and dry, while I walked to the river’s edge and watched it roar by in a milky brown froth. A mile further down the road we stopped at an outdoor tea house and had lagman–the noodle soup with chunks of beef and potato in it–and green tea.

Back on the road, we reached the valley floor, stopped at our 4th tole booth of the day and our driver put on his seat belt for the first time. Apparently seat belts are also required in the capital. Shortly, we entered Dushambe and arrived at the Hyatt Regency about 2:30. The trip had taken less time than we expected. We were very happy to check in at a familiar hotel and be assigned to the club floor. The room was just what the doctor ordered. Our only complaint is that we do not have wifi in the room and must sit in the lobby to do email and send posts, something we have not had to do in most of the places we have stayed.

After a short break, we met up with Husrav again, got a bit of orientation to the pretty town that is set in the middle of a large valley surrounded by snow capped peaks and has a sense of prosperity to it. We walked through the large rose bedecked city park in the center of town enjoying watching young couples spend time together. Husrav said, somewhat wistfully, that couples could be alone here more easily and even kiss each other in the park. In Khojand, he has never been alone with his girl friend, whom he plans to marry in a year. The first statue, 3-times life size, we encountered was of the founder of the Tajik Dynasty, Ismoil Somani. It replaced an equally large statue of Lenin that was relocated to a lesser position in 1999. Further along, we encountered a 2 times life size statue of Rudaki, the 10th century Persian poet and father of the Tajik language. At the end of the park we stopped at the 12+/- foot diameter flag pole to get a closer look at what the Tajiks claim, with assistance from Guinness, is the largest flag in the world. At 20 x 60 meters, it is big. However, Mark and I both thing that North Korea has it beat. The flag the North Koreans put up near the DMZ, to outshine the South Korean Flag on the other side of the zone, is stupendous both in height and size. Mark is determined to find out when he can. However, if any of you are intrigued and want to do some research, we would appreciate receiving the fruits of your effort.

Several Tajik men joined us on the steps by the flag and engaged us in a cross cultural conversation. We learned that one of them was a security officer and was therefore able to afford 4 wives. Another was in the construction business and a third was a professional photographer, who wanted to trade his canon for my Nikon. No deal. They wanted to know what sort of pensions we received and what kind of work we did. They were surprised about our age difference and that we have no children. Everyone in Tajikistan wants children. Family is most important. We laughed a lot and the photographer took a photo of us with our camera.

Back on the 11th floor before sunset, we decided to stay in, enjoy the view of the city and mountains, and eat familiar salads and snacks served in the club lounge. It felt like a slice of home comfort for an evening.

Tuesday, May 14, 2013

We drove through lush green and densely developed valley to visit the ruins of the once independent, 10th century khanate of Hissar. Of interest to Mark were the cars on the road. We see many GM Opels, Toyotas and Hundais and a number of Mercedes, Lexus and BMWs. Mark also spotted one Bentley, which he guesses might be owned by the President’s son. Of interest to me was the fact that the Hissar fort was used by the last Emir of Bukhara, whom we have heard about earlier, for a short time as he fled south to Afghanistan to avoid the Russian advance during the mid 1800s. The best part of the place was the view of green fields against the backdrop of snow capped peaks. We made a very fast pass through the old and tired museum and then drove back to town to see the only reclining buddha in Central Asia, now reclining in the National Museum. We asked the docent to show us only the best of the best and she did just that. I think we looked at three things besides the Buddha and were out the door and headed to lunch. Our driver suggested a Turkish restaurant so we went there and had a half Turk-half Tajik meal. It was OK, but local food is just not appealing to us these days.

During lunch Husrav told us about the Tajik involvement in WWII. At the time the population was only 1.5 million. Russia required the country to send 200,000 (18%) of its able bodied men to the front. Only 80,000 of them returned alive. I don’t know what percent of our people went, but I can’t imagine it was close to 18%? Do any of you know? Between WWII and their civil war in the 90s, it is no wonder that the country is in 130th economic position of the world’s countries. Husrav told us the average salary is 450 somoni (about $100) per month. His 47 year old father teaches math and physics o 6th through 9th graders in his village school. He also farms potatoes and carrots on 1/2 hectare (1.25 acres) near his house. He sells the crop in the fall after the harvest and makes an additional 3000-4500 samoni depending on the yield. He also grows winter wheat on another hectare, which is used for his 2 cows, 3 calves and 2 donkeys.

Then we headed for the Botanical Garden to enjoy walking and watching local people enjoy themselves. We saw several young couples wanting to be by themselves and separate groups of women and men having fun dancing, talking and laughing. While there we waited for Will Sumits to show up. He is the son of a couple we met in Burma last year. When his parents heard about our trip they told us he lived here and put us in touch with him. We corresponded several times to arrange this meeting. As it turned out, he lives very near the Botanical Garden so it was easy to meet up as we were going there anyway. We spent some time getting acquainted as we walked around the garden and then agreed to reconnect at 5pm to listen to him and a friend of his play traditional music for us. He has learned several Central Asian languages as well as many of the Central Asian musical instruments. He has taught Central Asian music history in the local university and completed his PhD in Ethno Musicology at the School of Oriental and African Studies in London. He is 34 and has lived here and in other parts of Central Asia for some time.

We arrived at Will’s house as he was laying out the traditional tea and snacks for us. Then he played one tune on a 9-string Tar from Azerbaijan and another on a 2-string Dutar from Tajikistan. We were enjoying his laying, when his friend Sirojiddin arrived with a couple of instruments. We were introduced and chatted a few minutes and then he began to play on a 4-string Tanbur, which is a Tajik and Uzbec instrument. His playing was exquisitely beautiful. Certainly, this was no ordinary musician. We asked a few questions and then learned from Will that he is a famous musician in the Central Asian musical world and has performed in many places including New York, DC and Houston. He is so appreciated that the President of the country has given him an apartment and pays him well to teach, play on a radio station and perform in various venues. He played another piece for us on the Dutar that was equally beautiful. Soon Mark and I were asking him when he would be coming to the states again and if we could get him to Grass Valley. With the video Mark made of his music as we sat there plus a recording he participated in making called “Invisible Face of the Beloved”, we think we can convince at least one of our music organizations at home to take notice. He told us he may be coming in 2014. Will will translate for him and help pull the deal together. First , Will agreed to send us more information on Sirojiddin to help us promote him.

After Sirojiddin left, Will suggested a new restaurant called the Public Pub. It sounded good to us and Husrav agreed, somewhat hesitantly, to go along. The idea was great, but the food did not exactly live up to expectation. Mark and Husrav ordered Fish & Chips and I ordered spicy prawns. My prawns were fine, but the portion was very small. Mark said his dish was not good at all. Will ordered chicken wings and cheese sticks and got a better deal than we did. We talked about life in Tajikistan, the difficulties with dating in a closed society, the rampant corruption starting from the top. and the music world. He told us bits and pieces about the corrupt behavior of the president and his cronies that were so convoluted I hate to get specific for fear I will give you incorrect information. Suffice it to say the president has a lot of money sequestered away and continues bleed the country. In spite of corruption, Will thinks he will be reelected this fall for another 7-year term. We agreed to stay in touch.

It was only 8:30 when we got back to the hotel, but I was happy to stop and relax. Tomorrow we leave this pretty city and fly to Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan.

Saturday, May 11, 2013

This morning we drove away from Khiva at 7:30am knowing we had a long day ahead. We headed north on A380 to the town of Nukus to see a museum that we had heard a great deal about and wanted to see. On the way we stopped at the mud ruins of a 300-400AD fortress called Tupra Kala, which had been the capital of ancient Kharezm for a short time until its water source dried up. What appealed to me about the site was the view from the top of the ruined walls. We could see the countryside in every direction and could make out other ancient forts in the distance. I could imagine the forts sending smoke signals to each other and could understand how ancient cities could disappear in the desert and be relocated by archeologists centuries later due to the mounds that were still visible. The distances are vast with nothing to block one’s view of the horizon, except these slight mounds. It reminded me of our view from the bridge of our ship when we were at the North Pole and could make out the curvature of the earth.

Nukus, at 300,000 people, is the largest city in northern Uzbekistan. It was built by the Soviets during the late 30’s and has nothing remarkable to offer except the Nukus Museum, which was our reason for driving hours out of our way and devoting a whole day to experiencing this remarkable art collection. The museum is so special that I want to take a bit of time to help you understand the attraction.

Several weeks ago, Stacey, from GeoEx, sent us a 90-minute video about an unusual museum. Founded in 1966, the Savitsky Karakalpakstan State Art Museum, the video states, comprises a collection of over 90,000 pieces, ranging from regional folk art and Uzbek fine art to the second largest collection of Russian avant-garde art in the world, after the Russian Museum in St Petersburg. Having visited this museum during our trip to St Petersburg in 1997 and remembering being more impressed by it than by the Hermitage, we signed on for Nukus immediately upon seeing the video.

The story goes like this: Igor Savitsky (1915-1984), a Muscovite painter/archeologist made his home in Nukus in the mid-50’s. Like many artists of his generation, he traveled to Central Asia in search of inspiration and quality of light. Between 1957 and 1966, he assembled an extensive collection of regional jewelry, carpets, coins, clothing and other artifacts and convinced the regional authorities of the need for a museum. Following its establishment, he became the curator in 1966. Thereafter he began collecting the works of Central Asian artists and eventually those of the Russian avant-garde, whose paintings, although already recognized in Western Europe, had been banned in the Soviet Union during Stalin’s rule and through the 1960s.

Despite the risk of being denounced as an “enemy of the people”, Savitsky sought out proscribed painters and their heirs to collect, archive and display their works. He managed to assemble thousands of Russian avant-garde and post avant-garde paintings. Refuting the Socialist Realism school that prevailed inside Soviet Russia, the collection shook the foundations of that time, as that kind of art during the 20s and 30s had, hitherto, been unknown to exist. It was not until perestroika in 1985, by which time Savitsky had died, that his achievements and collections were acknowledged and not until 1991, when Uzbekistan became independent, that Nukus, a remote “closed” city during the Soviet Union, became accessible to the outside world. Today, the word is getting out, but very slowly—only about 5000 foreigners visit the museum each year. The museum moved to a new building in 2003 and houses the best fine arts collection we have visited in a long time. Suffice it to say, we thought the museum was well worth the effort to see it.

Unfortunately we do not have any photos of the the collections, but we did buy a book about the museum and the collections, which we will happily show any of you that ask.

We arrived at the museum shortly before noon, spent about two hours viewing paintings with a most knowledgeable museum docent, went to lunch at 2pm and came back to see the other collections until the museum closed at 4pm. After that we visited an ancient necropolis on the west side of the Oxus River, mostly to kill time, before heading to the airport for our 7:55pm flight to Tashkent. We arrived at our hotel at 11pm. Mark dove into bed, while I phoned Mom via Skype to wish her a Happy 91st birthday and published an already written post.

Tomorrow we depart Uzbekistan by car for Tajikistan.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

I forgot to tell you about the Jewish synagogue we visited yesterday afternoon, while wandering around Bokhara. About 50 feet further down the alley from our hotel, the Salom Inn, is the door to the heart of the Jewish quarter, the 420 year old synagogue. We went by a couple of times only to find the door locked. Finally, late in the afternoon, the door was open and two gentlemen showed us around the two room building containing a small synagogue on one side and a school room on the other side. There were 5 Torah, each hundreds of years old and lots of Jewish paraphernalia in both rooms. One of the men said there were now only 350 Jews in 52 families in Bukhara. Most of the 25,000 Bukharan Jews moved to Israel or the US when the Soviet Union collapsed. There was another synagogue in the area that is supposedly 500 years old and no longer functions. Later on we visited Akbar House, owned by the wealthy antique dealer, whose shop I described in yesterday’s post. His house is just around the corner and has a large sign of David painted on at least two walls in the main living area of the large and opulent house. We had gone there earlier to see more of his collection. It surprised us to learn there was such a large and vibrant Jewish neighborhood in Uzbekistan.

Today is Victory Day in Uzbekistan. It is treated like our Memorial Day and honors “Mourning Mothers”. It is also our day to leave Bukhara and head for Khiva, a day’s drive NW. The 450 kilometer route is called the A380 and, although part of the Silk Road, it has no colorful name. Expecting a very long and uncomfortable ride, I padded my back and bottom with a pillow and a wedge and had a comfortable journey most of the way. The two lane road was about half bumpy, pot holed asphalt and half smooth tarmac or concrete. Rafcat is careful to travel at the speed limit, which varies from 60-100 KPH. Fortunately the traffic was very light with mostly large trucks going in the opposite direction. If the road is ever completed in concrete the trip will take at least an hour less than the 7 hours it took us and be a pleasant ride. Once out of the Bukhara area, the countryside turned to steppe–nearly flat, sandy gravel with a bush size plant called sacsaul that is salt and drought resistant, scrub and many small plants that are flowering. Looking out toward the horizon the landscape looked very green. In a month the steppe will be dry and brown. We saw two large turtles crossing the road and stopped to move them out of harms way. We also saw a mixed group of bactrian and dromedary camels foraging on their own. Other steppe creatures we did not see include fox, jackal, monitor lizard, hare, gazelle and deer.

An hour out of Bokhara, we saw a series of large buildings, about two miles off the road, that Jenia said belonged to the Chinese, who are building the three pipelines, I wrote about earlier, to serve western China.

About 1pm we stopped for a picnic lunch on a ridge overlooking a nearly empty reservoir called the Camel’s Neck, that captures overflow from the Oxus during snowmelt. The place was pretty barren, but suited us nicely and lunch was perfect–cheese sandwiches, whole tomatoes, yogurt, hard boiled eggs, fruit, biscuits and hot green tea. Thankfully, we had just finished when a sand devil blew over, coating us in dust. Only thing missing were ants.

Except for a very short distance where small sand dunes encroached on the sides of the road, we were in steppe until the last 30 kilometers, when irrigated fields and villages replaced the steppe. We were paralleling the Oxus River, without being able to see it. Shortly before reaching Khiva, we crossed it, the largest River in Central Asia, on a bridge that was finished in 2011. Jenia said that previously a pontoon bridge was used. The river does not look so huge any more as much of it is diverted from its course. For centuries, it drained into the Aral Sea, but little if any water makes it to the sea any more and the sea itself is largely dried up.

All along the drive we chatted about a variety of topics. One of which was Uzbek currency. Until the 1995, the Russian Ruble was still in use in Uzbekistan. By 1996, the conversion to a new currency, called the som, was completed. Originally the value was set at 50 som to one dollar. Now the official rate is 2100:1, while the black market rate is 2500-2700:1. The most common som notes are in denominations of 1000. A stack of 1000 som notes needed to buy $50 is called a brick. We see people carrying piles of som to transact business as cash is the only accepted form of payment. The banking system is so convoluted and non-business oriented that people tend not to use banks. Jenia, who is using som and dollars all day long, carries a large grip, he calls his wallet. Most people have learned how to count som rapidly by fanning a stack. I have tried to get the knack of it, but cannot do it successfully yet.

Here are a few recently reported facts. The population of Uzbekistan is estimated at about 30 million. Uzbekistan and California have about the same size land area and population. Unemployment is officially 5%. The average age of the national population is 24. Khiva has about 50,000 people.

Near the end of the journey I asked Jenia what he would like my blog reading friends to know about Uzbekistan. He thought for a few minutes and said: “Uzbek people are peaceful and friendly. The country is nothing like Afghanistan”. Uzbekistan is stable, secular, educated and unified. It is also a safe place to visit. As far as I can see, he is correct on every point. I am sorry I entertained any concerns to the contrary. There is nothing like traveling to foreign lands to dispel unnecessary fear.

We arrived at our Khiva hotel at 3pm, settled into a modern room on the second floor with a large balcony looking out over the old city. We relaxed a couple of hours and then went for a good walk around the tightly contained historic section of the city, which is surrounded by high walls. Not nearly as large or spread out or busy as Bukhara, it is full of charm and simplicity. It is also very clean. There are not nearly as many vendors and most of their wares are less sophisticated and less appealing. Hopefully, I will not feel the compulsion to buy anything here.

We had dinner in the hotel garden with Genia, who insisted we try the local dishes. One was egg stuffed raviolis, another was minced meat stuffed crepes that were deep fried, a third was pumpkin soup and lastly was a backlava-like, but not so sweet dessert. The dishes were all interesting and worth a taste, but I liked the soup and the dessert the best. While lounging in our chaihana, or tea bed, we noticed a familiar looking woman across the way in another chaihana. Mark guessed we had met her during our trip to Burma and thought her name was Ursula. After awhile we could not resist the urge to confirm our suspicion and we asked. Sure enough, we had met her on our boat ride down the Irriwaddi River last fall and she remembered us too. How is that for a small world.

Well, it is time for me to turn out the lights so Mark can sleep.
Tomorrow we visit old Khiva with another local guide.

Good night and sweet dreams,
Julia

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Our hotel was full last night for the first time and the staff was clearly not prepared for so many people. When we went to breakfast there was a room full of Central Asian women in traditional dress piling everything in sight on their plates. There was very little for anyone else to eat except yoghurt and cold cereal and the staff did not have more to put out. Thankfully the yoghurt is good and we made due. As we walked out we could see multiple plates of bread, cheese, fruit and lunch meats piled high in front of them. Jenia guessed they were not used to see so much food free for the taking.

Once settled into our car, a Korean Hyundai, we began the 5 hour, 280 kilometer, journey on the Royal Road to Bukhara. It was not in as good condition as the Golden Road to Samarkand so I was not able to work on the computer or even read much. We enjoyed looking out the windows at the flat and fertile landscape, not unlike the Central Valley in California. We saw mostly cotton and wheat fields as we had on the Golden Road. We passed through a couple of provinces between the two cities and a number of villages and small towns. We stopped at a ceramics workshop, but did not buy anything and we paused at an ancient roadside caravanserai to take a photo We also stopped at a gas station and learned that cars in Uzbekistan run on compressed natural gas or methane, gasoline or diesel. Stations are available for each of these choices throughout the country, but not at one location. There is an official price for each kind of fuel, which bears no relevance to the actual price at the pump and both prices will vary from day to day. In any event it is not cheap as it is in Turkmenistan.

Uzbekistan, we learned, is one of only two countries in the world that is doubly land locked, whereby two countries have to be crossed to get to an ocean. The other is Liechtenstein. That is part of the difficulty in exporting products. We also learned that Santa Fe, New Mexico has been a sister city to Bukhara since the Soviet era. The exchange continues to this day, with Uzbek artisans being invited to attend an exhibition in Santa Fe every year. Surprisingly, our driver Raffcat has been to the US twice and Jenia has been several times.

Jenia told me the ceramic cups I bought from a vendor at the Registan in Samarkand the day before, were from a place called Rishtan in the Fergana Valley, which is east of Tashkent. Later we found the same cups for less than half of what I paid. Oh well.

We arrived in Bukhara in 4 1/2 hours and went directly to an outdoor tea house for lunch. The place was packed with locals. We had a pasta first course and a beef stir fry second course plus the best bread we have had since arriving in Central Asia. It was crunchy and had great flavor. Then we went to our new lodgings, which are in the heart of the pedestrian part of town. We had to walk a couple of blocks to reach the entrance, which faces onto an alley in the heart of the old Jewish quarter. Once through the door of the Salom Inn, we found ourselves in a small and charming court yard surrounded by a two story house with just a few rooms. Ours is on the second floor. It is a touch rustic and dark, but all the necessities are present, the beds are good and the location is superb. After a few minutes to get settled, we were introduced to our local Bukhara city guide, Makhsuma, and immediately started our afternoon walking tour at the end of the alley.

At the end of the alley is a large square called Labi Haus, which appropriately means “Lips of the pool” as there is a pool in the middle that occupies about a third the square. On one side of the square is Nodir Divan Begi Madrassa (1622). At the top of its tile covered portal are 2 huge, beautiful birds, two dogs or pigs or unicorns and a painted face inside a sun star. It is so surprising to see animals and faces in muslim buildings that I can’t help noticing that they jar my sense of appropriateness and I find them disturbing rather than appealing. Such work may have been an attempt during the 17th century to explore new ideas. The building was originally built to be a caravansary, but became a madrassa housing 80 students. Now it is used by craftsmen and vendors. The interior includes both brick and mosaic tile work that creates a very pleasing affect.
In front of the madrassa is a large bronze sculptor of a legendary humorist riding a donkey, named Khodja Nasreddin Afandi, who looks a lot like Sancho Panza and behaved like Robin Hood. Every time we looked at the statue there were kids sitting on the donkey with Khodia and parents taking photos.

On the opposite side of the pool is the 17th century Nodir Divan Begi Khanako, which was both a mosque and a hostel for wandering dervishes. Today there is a large gallery inside. The portal boasts beautiful tile work that exemplifies the advanced understanding of geometrical forms referred to as girikh. There are two basic shapes, discovered, or perhaps I should say uncovered. by current western scientists, which they call kites and darts. When laid together in different ways, they make up the elements of each form in a tile pattern. The effect is most pleasing to look at without necessarily knowing why it is so appealing. Scientists on the began developing more and more complicated patterns down through the centuries until the art form was perfected. We read an article on the subject and have found ourselves looking closely at the mosaic tile work to see if we could discern the two basic forms and were delighted to find that we could. It has made looking at each building more interesting for me.

On the side between the madrassa and the Khanako is a large outdoor cafe on the edge of the pool There are mulberry trees and fountains all around as well as shops and another madrassa. The place is so inviting that the whole square is crowded all day long and well into the evening with locals as well as tourists.

Once we finished seeing everything in the square we continued west along a pedestrian pathway passing many vendors and several caravansaries, also full of vendors. In ancient times, one of the caravansaries catered to hat sellers and another to tea merchants. As Bukhara was a major crossroad during the 6th through the 19th centuries, there were many caravansaries in the city catering to individual products or to specific nationalities such as the Chinese and the Indians. At that point we parted from Makhsuma for the day and walked slowly back to our hotel, checking out several of the crafts along the way.
After a nice dinner of greens and chicken in our hotel, we wandered around the square enjoying the pleasant weather and watching people. We wandered into an antique fabric gallery and found several things we liked, but were not ready to buy. It was still early, but we were ready to call it quits.

Monday, May 6, 2013

After a small breakfast in our hotel courtyard, we met up with Jenia and Makhsoma and Rafcat for a full day tour of the ancient Bukharan sites. We saw an unusual 10th century mausoleum for Ishmail Samani, founder of the cultured Samanid dynasty, who completed the process of independence from the Arabs. Originally built in the shape of a cube with a round dome using baked bricks in a basket weave pattern that is classic Sogdian architecture, it was beautifully restored in 1930 by Soviet specialists. There was no colored tile work, yet I liked it better than many other grand buildings for its simplicity and understated elegance.

Then we saw a memorial to the theologist, Al Bukhoriy, who traveled the Islamic world collecting stories, called Hadis, about the prophet Muhammed. He collected over 600,000 Hadis into 99 books. His memorial is built in the shape of a crescent and a holy book and is close to the 12th century tomb of his teacher, which contains what is reputed to be the spring of Job. The 99 books of Hadis are considered second only to the Koran in importance to muslims.

Then we visited the Arc, which is a citadel or fortress beginning in the 4th century BC. What we see today was built during the 18th to 20th centuries according to a layout from the 16th century. THe fortress includes a prison with a “bug pit”, a 15 foot deep and 12 feet in diameter, circular pit where prisoners were kept alive, but miserable. Two British officers involved in the Great Game between Russia and Britain, Stoddart and Connoly, were kept here for 2-3 years in the mid 1800‘s before the Emir finally executed them. The place also contained the Coronation Hall where the emir greeted people including the unthinking Stoddart, who rode in on a horse breaking all the local rules of etiquette.

From there we visited, Bolo Khauz, our first mosque of the day and an outdoor one with 20 columns at that. It will hold 3400 people at Friday services, which start at noon with an imam giving a speech. At 1:00 pm is the call to prayer, which can only be heard if you are near the mosque. At 1:10pm people start to pray. The broadcast call to prayer was silenced during the Soviet era and has remained quiet since independence.

For lunch we ate at a very large restaurant, called Magistral, that served the popular dish called plov. Jenia said this was one of the best places for plov around so, we were happy to join the many locals chowing down plates full of a mixture of rice, shredded beef, raisins, carrots, onions and juice. It was very tasty and easy to see why locals like it. I went behind the scenes to watch the mixture being scooped out of a huge cauldron such as the witches in Macbeth used. The men plating the food were using their bare hands and I could only hope they were clean. A tourist restaurant this was not.
After lunch we drove to a large square called Poi Kalon where we began our afternoon walking tour in the old part of the city. Here we saw what was probably the world’s tallest building (158 feet) when it was finished in 1127. Called the Kalon Minaret, it was the only structure spared from destruction by Genghis Khan, who was so impressed that he ordered it to be spared. Each band of carving is cut deeper then the previous one so each is distinct from the ground looking up. Near the top is a single band of turquoise tile, thought to be the earliest example of glazed tile work in Central Asia. Also in the square was the Mir-i-Arab Madrassa, which was one of only two in the Soviet Union allowed to function and still does. It has very photogenic galleries of of simple white columns. Nearby, the first madrassa in Central Asia (1417), was built by Ulugbek three years before he built the more impressive one in Samarkand. There were other buildings we saw about which I have no energy to write or wish to bore you.

We continued walking along pedestrian pathways toward our hotel, passing caravansaries, street vendors and tea houses. Locals and tourists were everywhere. We hear English being spoken, but rarely by Americans. We stopped at a few miniature painting vendors, silk embroidery vendors and carpet vendors to see what was available. Back at the hotel, we relaxed and cleaned up for dinner. Jenia drove us in his own Chevrolet to a steak house where Mark had a great filet mignon cooked perfectly–rare. I had a delicious large green salad and mushroom soup. We stopped at a pastry shop after dinner and bought a pastry to go with tea back at our hotel. Before going to bed, we joined the throng out in the square at the end of our alley. Although it was almost 10pm, there were many small children playing and running around.

Friday, May 3, 2013

We are now in Samarkand, 280 kilometers SW of Tashkent and have a couple of hours in the hotel to relax from the 5 hour drive this morning.

Yesterday afternoon, after sending two posts, we went on an afternoon tour of Tashkent with a very knowledgeable city guide named Zahir. He told us the population of Uzbekistan is 30 million and Tashkent is 3 million, while the country is only slightly larger than Turkmenistan and therefore California. The sights we saw were a bit of a blur, but included the Shahid Memorial Complex where we saw another wedding couple having photos taken and the Earthquake Memorial, which honored those killed in the 7.2 trembler in 1966. It was not quite as devastating as the 1948 quake in Ashgabat. We visited the Host Imam Square and the old part of town that still functions. We visited the Library Museum and saw the world’s oldest Koran dating from 645AD. We visited a beautiful Roman Catholic church which fell into disrepair during the Soviet era and was rebuilt between 1943 and 1947 by Polish prisoners sent here by the Russians. It had beautiful stained glass windows of flowers and trees and a huge restored organ.

We drove around the large Opera House that holds 1400 people, and Independence Square that connects to a large grass and tree covered park. The height of the tour was a visit to the Museum of Applied arts that is installed in a traditional house built by a wealthy diplomat during Tsarist times to house his private collection. It became a museum in 1937 and has a wonderfully varied, yet small, collection of objects from exquisite hand-stitched silk on cotton fabrics to carpets made with gold thread, Russian glass objects, beautiful ceramics and fine wood carvings. There was even a small, intricately carved and painted mosque that served as the living room of the house. Even Mark was enchanted by the up-close and personal nature of the building and its contents. After the museum, we walked the pedestrian street called Broadway to look at the local street art being peddled by vendors and people strolling during the pleasant evening hour. The people here all dress western and look very European, unlike the people in Turkmenistan who wear traditional clothes, especially the women who always wear long dresses and scarves.

From Broadway, we drove a short distance to a restaurant called Caravan, that Eugene, aka “Jenia”, recommended. After some discussion we ordered a variety of dishes to try including one that contained horse meat. It did not taste like other meats we know, but was not bad. It was, in my opinion, not interesting enough to eat again, but I am glad to have tried it.

By the end of dinner, we were both exhausted and could not get to bed fast enough. Lights were out by 9pm with an agreement to meet Jenia and our driver, Rafkat, at 8am.

Feeling rested and settled into Uzbek time, we were ready to go at the appointed hour. Rafkat took us on a long drive about the well built, broad and tree-lined city streets as we slowly headed south, passing by old and older Soviet style apartment buildings as well as modern housing blocks, shopping complexes, strip stores and a new soccer stadium. Once out of the city, buildings stopped abruptly and farm land began on the 280 kilometer stretch of the Silk Road between Tashkent and Samarkand, known as the Golden Road. We were reminded of the words of James Flecker 100 years ago in his poem Hassan:
We travel not for trafficking alone:
By hotter winds our fiery hearts are fanned:
For lust of knowing what should not be known
We make the Golden Journey to Samarkand.

For the next 4 hours we drove through flat countryside filled with cotton, wheat, strawberry and fallow fields. We passed many mulberry and poplar trees growing along the edge of the road as well as donkey carts and small villages. If not for water having been diverted from the two rivers that traverse the region, the land would all be desert. As we got closer to Samarkand, the snow capped mountains to the south came into view. All the while we chatted about Uzbekistan. The country ‘s biggest exports are cotton , silk and gas. According to Jenie, Uzbek cotton is famous for its quality because it is still picked by hand rather than machine. It was the cotton producing region for all of the Soviet Union. Now the country, which is now 60% urban and 40% rural, is trying to become self sufficient and is reducing the amount of cotton grown and increasing the amount and quality of wheat, as they still import better wheat from Kazakistan. They export fruits and vegetables to other post-Soviet countries. Mark asked why we see so many Chevrolets on the road. Jenie said GM created a partnership with the Uzbek government, bought the Korean Daewo business and now has a large assembly plant in the the Fergama Valley east of Tashkent making Chevrolets. Other plants in the country make trucks and busses. In spite of the many speeding cars, we still saw several donkey carts along the edge of the road as well as any people working the fields by hand.

Although Uzbekistan has significant gas reserves, they have been unable to sell it as their only pipeline was through Russia, which has cut off the flow. Recently, an agreement was reached with the Chinese to build three pipelines through Kyrgyzstan and Kazakstan to eastern China. One of the lines is complete and gas is flowing.

Islam Karimov became president of Uzbekistan when the Soviet Union collapsed in 1991. He is still president. Under their original constitution he enjoyed 2 5-year terms, then rewrote the constitution to allow for 2 7-year terms and agreed not to run again after the first such term. Elections are due to be held in 2014. There is a multi party system now and Jenie believes the 75 year old Karimov will step down. The years immediately after the Soviet collapse were extremely difficult. Life in all the post Soviet countries was severely disrupted. Most people lost their jobs and the subsidies they were used to receiving. According to both Jenie and Rafpak, millions of people died during the years following 1991. There were countless suicides and heart attacks. Rafpak said he had been a construction foreman. When the economy collapsed, there was no more construction and he lost his job. Eventually he became a driver and is doing well now. However, he feels very strongly that life was better under the Soviets and people were happier. Everyone helped each other then and neighborhoods were cohesive. Now it is every man for himself, there are few subsidies and the cost of living is so high that many activities, such as travel, are no longer affordable. He is 60 and says most people his age and older feel the same way. Jenie, who was 15 in 1991, thinks conditions are gradually improving with time and new thinking. He is looking forward to a new president who, hopefully, will make more improvements for the country. He thinks the biggest reason development is slow is because people are not allowed to own land. He hopes a new president will change that.

Meanwhile, everyone pays a flat 13% in income tax. Education is compulsory and free for the first 9 years. Then three years of college are free, but not compulsory. University fees are based on testing scores. The top 50% go for free. Others must pay $1000 per year, which is not a hardship for most families. Basic health care services are free at local clinics. However, there is no insurance system in place so people must pay for major health problems themselves. Consequently, many people die for lack of medical attention.

Finally, we arrived in Samarkand and went directly to an outdoor cafe for lunch. The place was like a mini oasis. We drove through a dull, hot and unappealing neighborhood and stopped in front of a tall concrete wall. Once we walked through the door, we were inside a large courtyard filled with trees and a creek that flowed through the middle. Tables and chairs were arranged under trees. The air was cool and sweet and the whole affect quite pleasing. We were served soup and shish kabob along with the standard tomato, onion and cucumber salad and bread made in the special Samarkand style. It was in a different shape, but still tasted about the same as the other bread we have had.

Then we checked into our hotel–small, clean, comfortable and somewhat plain. We agreed to rest until 4:30 and then do some sight seeing in the late afternoon. We do not seem to have wifi here, so I am writing in hopes of sending a post when I can.

As planned, we visited a necropolis full of female mausoleums called Shah-i-Zindah on the edge of the city. The street of tombs, which is surrounded by a modern, mostly Soviet style, graveyard, dates from 1372 to 1460 and houses the women who were relatives of Timerlane the Great, who lived a century after Genghis Khan and spent 35 years campaigning to conquer the world, killing an estimated 17 million people in the process. Two of his wives and sisters and a favorite niece are among the women buried here. The tombs real beauty and appeal lies in their range of decoration, with carved terra-cotta and majolica tile work set into complicated floral designs framed with stylized calligraphy, all of which is painted in saturated shades of blue. The place gets its name from the Arab leader who was beheaded for his attempts to convert locals to Islam and is buried in the first tomb at the site.

Mark did not feel well, so we dropped him off at the hotel and continued to the shop of a clothing designer that Jenie thought we should visit. Set behind another high wall was a shop full of unusual hand painted and hand stitched fabrics and fashions, the likes of which I was totally unfamiliar. The colors of the items were mostly muddy and dark and not to my liking, but I managed to buy two pieces that should be eye catching back home. I thought of several of my friends who would have gone crazy in the shop. If I knew their sizes and color preferences, I would have purchased a number of things just for them, especially since the prices were reasonable. From there the three of us went to dinner and had….you guessed it…soup and shish kabob. I don’t think there is much else to eat around these part.

April 25, 2013

As hoped, Stacey delivered our passports to us on the morning of the 24th, only hours before our departure from SFO. GeoEx, not wanting to trust even FedEx to be on time, hired a courier to transport our documents from Washington DC to Stacey’s home in Oakland. The least we could do was buy her breakfast at Sears, a popular eatery on Powell Street that I remembered from college days in the 60’s.

From then on our trip has been uneventful. At the moment I am writing during our flight from Lufthansa to Baku, Azerbaijan, where we have a short layover, before flying on to Ashgabat.

This adventure is really about traversing the heart of the Silk Road through Central Asia. The ancient highway begins in Xian, China-where the army of terra cotta warriors was buried and ends in Istanbul, Turkey-which was known as Constantinople, one of the bazaar capitals of the world then and now. We have visited both cities on previous trips and now will be connecting the dots. I have traveled through some of the route years ago. In 1967, I visited Tehran and Isfahan, Iran on my own and in 1981, on a Stanford University travel/study tour with my parents, I traveled the Chinese portion of the Road by bus from Xian to Dunhuang via Lanzhou, Wuwei, Yumen and Anxi.

The oasis of Dunhuang sits on the eastern edge of the Taklamakan Desert. It provided us with an incredible, other worldly experience. Built into sheer cliff walls of loess soil were several levels of ledges containing hundreds of niches, many the size of small rooms. Each niche was full of Buddhist sculptures, carvings, reliefs and paintings. Together they formed the largest collection of Buddhist art in the world. All of it was paid for by ancient travelers asking for Buddha’s help in surviving the extremely dangerous journey across the desert or giving thanks for having survived the crossing. We went for a short walk into the desert to get a feel for it and were overwhelmed at the immensity of it. All we could see in every direction was towering sand dunes. Some consider Dunhuang to be the limit of China “proper” and the beginning of Central Asia.

Now we are headed into the heart of the Road, or actually many roads as the Silk Road splits into many routes created to avoid deserts, mountains, high taxation, bandits, natural disasters and regional warfare. Eventually the roads reconnect only to split apart again. There were certain oasis hubs that brought the roads together and these are the places we will visit.

Silk was first developed during the 3rd millennium BC in the Yellow River valley. Empress Xi Lingshi is credited with being the first person to turn the fibrous excretions of a caterpillar into the prized material. It was not many years before silk began to make its way west. The official start of the Silk Road is at the end of the 2nd century BC when Roman and Chinese traders made contact. The road was not just a conduit for silk and trade goods. Many travelers, including missionaries, invaders, pilgrims and merchants spread their ideas, scientific knowledge, languages, inventions, religions and foods from east to west and back again. This made it the first and most important superhighway helping to shape the modern world. Today the road is still important, but the obstacles are no longer physical, but ideological.

We did not see much of Baku on landing as the light was very low and the sky solid overcast. We could make out the Caspian Sea. This is the closest we have come to being in the Caucasus.

April 26, 2013

We arrived in Ashgabat wide awake as it was 11am our time, while 11pm here. Good thing we were alert. We deplaned on the tarmac and were immediately asked to give up our luggage tags and and passports. We agreed to release the tags, but not the passports. Then we got on a bus that took us to a fancy VIP building where our passports were taken away from us along with everyone else’s. Our guide was nowhere to be seen so we looked around for someone who could speak English and connected with a pretty young lady in the traditional Turkmen dress who told us she was a linguist in the local University and came to the airport as a volunteer to greet people and practice her language skills. She spoke fluent American English. We learned that almost everyone in the room of about 50 people were delegates to a horse convention that was starting the next day. We were mistakenly loaded onto the bus with them or we would have arrived at the regular terminal building and been met by our guide. Now, however, we had to chill with everyone else while all the passports were individually scrutinized to the nth degree. At least we had a nice conversation with the young lady and a couple other folks who spoke English. It took well over an hour before our bags were delivered into the VIP room and we received our stamped passports. Finally, we connected with our Turkmenistan agent, Artem, and driver and were driven to our hotel, the Oguzkent Oteli, which turned out to be very new and up scale. The city streets are broad and brightly lit. Large white marble covered buildings, some lit up with colored neon, line the way. The strange thing was that the streets and buildings seemed nearly empty. Artem told us the population of Ashgabat is 700,000 and that most people live outside the city center and come in only during the day to work. It was almost 2am when we dropped into bed.

Wide awake at 8am, we opened the drapes to scattered clouds, green treeless hills in the near distance with lingering snow caping the ridge tops. The city is built on gentle foothills that have been planted with trees. Tall white marble buildings are scattered all along the roads, which carried some traffic for awhile and and then dropped to nearly no traffic. The center of the city is covered with large government and public buildings, giving way to apartment buildings as you travel away from the center. Most buildings are from 15 to 20 stories high and, although they are each a little different, they look the same as they are all covered with the same white marble, to represent purity. The name Ashgabat means “City of Love”. It is a new city as an earthquake in 1948 totally destroyed the old town. Even the 75 years of Soviet influence has been largely eradicated by the use of white marble.

Turkmenistan is the most isolated of the 5 republics of Central Asia. The land is mostly desert with high mountains separating it from Iran to the south. The discovery of gas and oil has provided great wealth for the ruling class and spurred the rise of a growing middle class. Described as an authoritarian dictatorship, the country is run as a police state. In less than a day we have already encountered the effects ourselves. First was the drawn out passport surveillance, followed by a police check of our car and driver on the way to the hotel. Then this morning, even though wifi is available in the hotel, I cannot bring up my blog as it is not authorized. A request is pending to allow me to use it. However, Facebook and YouTube are definitely not allowed so it is doubtful I will get on. We are also required to have an official minder, who happens to be our guide. The broad streets with no traffic and the minder situation remind us of our experience in North Korea–another police state. Such is our first impression of the country.

We napped and read all morning a it was too cold and windy for much of a walk.
In the afternoon we visited theTurkmenistan Carpet Museum which was spacious, spotless and well organized. We were treated to a delightful and most informative tour with Maya, the Museum’s English speaking guide, who was completely familiar with Turkman carpets. Two of the largest carpets in the world were on display, complete with their Guinness World Record certificates. At the end of the tour she took us down to the basement level where we watched a handful of women making carpets. Most interesting was watching four women setting up a warp in preparation for the construction of a carpet. Having many in our home, it was a pleasure to learn more. It is a good thing there is no more room in our house or we would be shopping for carpets instead of sight seeing.

From there we walked to the exposition building to see the annual trade show on horses, namely the famous Ahal Ticca horses, which are the oldest known thoroughbreds, dating at least to the 3rd century BC, as recorded in Greek and Parthian documents. Known for long distance ridding as well as sprinting, they originated in Turkmenistan. These animals are indeed beautiful. They are very tall and slender bodied with short manes, small heads and long thin legs. N0 wonder they are prized by many all over the world. There was a small paddock outside the hall where we could get close to a few of them. Now we have seen Turkmenistan’s two most famous products–carpets and Ahal Ticca horses. Time to quit and get to bed early. However, as we were walking back to the hotel through a park, we were stopped by government security people who did not want us in the area. No matter where we walked, another one would stop us from going in the direction of the hotel. The problem was that President Berdimuhamedov (no, I cannot pronounce it) and many foreign dignitaries were in the area to see the many horse activities, a couple of which were held in our hotel. We went round and round and I was getting a bit testy with them. Finally, we found a back way into the hotel with two of them right on our tail. Mark thought I was going to get us in trouble and I might have as I was so tired I had no patience for their rules. Fortunately, we found a way in first.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

It is late in the afternoon and we have finished touring with our non practicing Muslim guide, Musa and our almost as non practicing Greek orthodox driver, Alexander. We have driven all around the city chatting away with them and up to the ancient ruins of the Nisa Fortress, built during the First Century BC. From the ruins we could look easterly to Ashgabat and south to the Kopetdag Mountains that form a natural border between Turkmenistan and Iran, only 40 kilometers away. The city and the fortress were built on the foothills of the mountains to avoid the heat and sand of the desert to the north and pick up the cool air and water from the mountains. The area was part of the Persian Empire from the 6th century BC until Alexander the Great conquered all of Central Asia in 333-331BC. In 242 BC the Parthians conquered the region and retained power for 450 years. Nisa was the royal winter residence of the Parthian rulers and the place of their treasury so it was well fortified. Their capital was in Babylon. Sadly, the site, although designated UNESCO, is mostly piles of mud bricks that require a great deal of imagination to discern their once and splendid shapes. We wandered around the place with a local guide, who tried to bring the place to life, without much success. Later we visited the National Museum and saw several objects that had been excavated and preserved, including two large Greek style marble statues, several small bronze figures and a few large clay storage containers.

We had lunch at Minara Restaurant in an office building in the middle of Independence Park, where we encountered two different wedding parties taking photos. Later we visited the Monument to Neutrality and learned that Turkmenistan is the only country in the world to have officially declared Neutrality and been granted that status by the UN as of 2004 when the the first president requested it. The down side of the neutrality status, from the point of view of other countries in the UN, is that Turkmenistan does not participate or help in any military alliance and does not contribute to UN monitoring forces. This explains, at least partially, why the country is political isolated. Musa thinks neutrality is a good thing for his country and is not worried about isolation.

At this and most other monuments, guards are on duty in little houses such as we have seen in London, Athens and most recently in Quebec CIty. All the many monuments we have seen here are huge and white with gold trim and lettering–attractive and ostentatious at the same time.

Our last stop of the day was the Earthquake Museum, where we saw many photographs of the city both before and after the quake, which killed 120,000 of the 180,000 inhabitants on October 6, 1948. There are almost no pre-quake buildings left in the modern city.

As we made our way around the city, Musa told us much about the country. The population is 6 million and the land is slightly larger than California. The city of 700,000 was founded by the Russians, when they invaded the area on their march to expand their territory southward toward India, and took over in 1881. The discovery of huge gas reserves in 1960 changed the way people live in this country. It is now the owner of the 3rd largest natural gas reserves in the world–26 trillion cubic meters. The country’s exports are comprised of 60% natural gas, 10% oil, 1o% cotton and rest from textiles and petrochemicals. Most of the natural gas goes to Russia as transportation elsewhere is a problem.

While the rich are getting richer, the middle class is growing and most people in the cities are doing reasonable well because of all the subsidies the government provides. The average salary is $250-300/month, which is not so low when you consider that education and health care are free along with water and natural gas. There is a small charge for electricity, $14/year average, and auto fuel, 25 cents/liter, and almost no taxes. The vast majority of people live in apartments, which they buy from the government on 30 year loans. The average price of a new 250 meter apartment is $350,000, which is too expensive for most people. However, if you work for the government, which most do, the price is cut 50% and is then affordable. Even so, as in other communist style countries, you cannot own the land. With both husband and wife working, there is enough to pay the mortgage and buy food, clothing, household appliances and maybe a car. According to Musa, about 80% of city dwellers own cars. We are hard pressed to believe that as we see so few cars on the roads during most of the day. He also says there are no homeless people. The truth is, we have been here two day and seen few people at all considering the size of the city.

We wondered where all the water comes from as there are several fountains spewing forth around every monument, many office buildings and in every park. Musa told us there is a large aquifer under the city which provides crystal clear fresh water. However, much of the city’s water comes from the Karakum Canal, which diverts water from the Oxus River in the east through Merv, Mary, Ashgabat and north to Turkmanbashi, by which time there is none left to drain into the Caspian Sea. At 1300 kilometers, the canal is the longest in the world according to Musa. Started in 1952 and finished in 1983, it was built by the Russians to irrigate cotton fields planted in the Turkman desert to provide product for the Soviet Union. Ashgabat gets half of its water from the canal and half from the aquifer. Meanwhile, electricity to power all the city’s lights and fountains is produced by gas fired power plants.

Over dinner at the top of a 15 story building, we watched the city lights come up slowly. As it got darker the colored lighting began to take effect. Many many buildings are lit with rotating rainbow colored lights and at least one major street has each building outlined in brilliant neon. The whole down town comes alive in color. Think Disneyland and Las Vegas mixed together. The sight was much more appealing than the food, which so far has been mostly overcooked and bland.

After dinner we drove around the city center looking at the colored and neon lighting on the streets, buildings and fountains. One long six lane street that descends straight down a gentle slope near our hotel, has a wide median filled the entire length with a double row of light standards about every 50 feet. They are only 20 feet tall with 5 very ornate fixtures on each pole. Between each pair of standards is a water fountain. The light from the fixtures is clear white light, while the fountains are lit with revolving rainbow colors. Add the colored lighting on the white marble buildings and you have an effect that is truly magical and only possible in a world where water is plentiful and electricity is powered by unlimited supplies of natural gas.

April 28, 2013

THis morning we visited the Tolkuchka Bazaar, which is 20 minutes outside the city center. It is a huge complex of relatively new warehouse style buildings laid out in a diamond pattern with large walking areas between buildings and even larger parking areas. Each building was generally dedicated to specific products. We saw women’s clothing, fabric and jewelry, food, children’s clothing, hardware and appliances, electronics and auto supplies. Nearby was a whole section for livestock from camels to ducklings. Except for the animal section, every building was spotless and bug free. This facility replaced the old, cramped, uncovered and dirty bazaar that had been in the city center. Photographically, the new one is very uninspiring. It felt to me like the life had gone out of the experience, but that is because I am not interested in shopping, only photography. It is probably a much better experience for shoppers and vendors now.

While we were out of town, we stopped at the mausoleum of the President Niyazov, who died suddenly of a heart attack on December 21, 2006, and the mosque he had built next to it. The mosque is white marble and gold paint just like the rest of the city center, all of which he orchestrated. It will hold 20,000 people and is the largest in Turkmenistan. There were hundreds of mosques in Ashgabat before the Soviet era. Now, since the Soviets disallowed the practice of religion and the 1948 earthquake there are only 5. While at lunch I asked if there were any Christian churches in existence and our driver said there was a Greek Orthodox Church in an old part of the city. So he took us to see it. Unlike the mosques, where no one was around, there were people praying inside the small church and even the priest made an appearance. The walls were covered with colorful religions paintings and several candles were burning brightly for the prayers of the faithful. It was a warm, inviting and charming church. We learned from the priest that it was so well built that it survived the earthquake with only a small crack. So far this is the only building we have seen that is pre-quake.

Then we visited the Russian Bazaar, which is under one open air roof and much smaller and more appealing than the Tolkuchka Bazaar we saw earlier. This one is primarily for fruits and vegetable and some sundries. We were able to buy a Turkmenistan flag here, but there was a lot of resistance to my taking pictures so I did not have a good photo day. On the way back to the hotel, I asked for a stop to photograph a couple of independent stores as they are so different from my experience at home. Here the upscale stores are each in a separate building about three stories in height, but with only one floor. They are set back from the road and surrounded by grass and trees. To get to each one you have to drive around the back to park. Each one is sandwiched between two tall apartment buildings and they are all too far apart to walk from one to another. It seems most inconvenient to me, but Musa says it is the way people shop here. They know what they want and don’t mind driving to get from one place to another or taking a taxi or bus, both of which are very cheep. The city is incredibly spread out with lots of grass and trees between buildings and many roads everywhere. As there is plenty of land and gas is nearly free, no one seems concerned.

While resting before dinner, we did some research and learned that the first president, Niyazov. created a cult of personality, not unlike Kim Il Sung, which partially ended with his early death at age 60 and that the new president, Berdimuhamedow, who is 57, has improved conditions for the majority of the people, but is building his own personality cult now. No opposition parties are allowed and there is no freedom of the press. It is my sense that as long as people remain comfortable in their life style, they are not likely to revolt or demand more freedom. This isolated police state seems fine with them. It certainly is fine with Musa.

Later he took us to a small neighborhood restaurant for dinner and I had the first meal I have enjoyed since arriving here. It was Indian chicken curry. Go figure. Now to bed. We have to be up at 4:30am for a 7am flight to Mary (pronounced Mar ee) to visit the ancient ruins of Merv, about 30 minutes outside Mary. We will fly back in the afternoon making an otherwise dreadfully long trip enjoyable.

Monday, April 29, 2013

We were wide awake before 4:30am as we still have not adjusted to the time change. So it was no problem catching the 7am flight to Mary. A car and driver were waiting for the three of us and off we went to visit the ancient city of Merv. It was once the largest city in the world during its Silk Road heyday. Musa gave us a great deal of detail about the history of the place, but, although I find the detail interesting, I am sure you will not. Suffice it to say, we traveled back in time to 600BC and forward from there to the 14th century, visiting about 10 different sites. In some case there were only mud brick mounds to see and in other cases there were structures which had been constructed with fired brick and were still standing after 1000+ years. A few of them were very interesting.

My favorites were the two “corrugated” brick structures dating from the 11th-12th centuries. Made of thick walls slanted slightly inward so they would not fall over, the exterior walls did have a partially folded fan or vertically corrugated look. Each side of a fold was about 4-6 feet wide and 40 feet tall. The whole building was originally sided this way. There were no windows and only one door into the building. There were slits on the first level below the corrugated sides, which may have been for ventilation and where several room were found. The second level had no windows and is believed to have been partially open to the sky as an interior courtyard. Musa said it is believed that, as the buildings were outside the fortified city walls, they were homes for wealthy people who could afford to provide their own safety. it is also believed that the corrugation plan was used because it was less heavy than flat, solid and thick walls would have needed to be, while still providing the needed protection. I will try to provide a photo, if I am able to do so. Meanwhile, I think you must be glad that I made this trip so you do not need to.

After three hours we had seen enough of Merv and were ready for a bar-b-que lunch back in Mary. The chicken and lamb were delicious and even the potato salad was good. I must have been hungry. At 3pm we flew back to Ashgabat and returned to the hotel to rest, pack for our departure tomorrow and write. While in the Russian Bazaar, yesterday, we purchased some caviar and crackers. It was a good brand of caviar and so inexpensive we could not resist. That may just be dinner in the room tonight.