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Khiva to Bukhara to Shahrisabz to Samarkand

10/26/2015

[these are the entries I tried to post from the 19th - 23rd]

Bukhara
The flight from Khiva (Urgench) to Bukhara was on a spiffy new Airbus with explicit safety instructions in 3 languages -- distinct contrast to the previous flight.

I think Bukhara will become my focus for items to import as I grow my business: the selection, quality and prices are fabulous. And I've made some great connections too. Since credit cards are seldom accepted and then only for big ticket items like carpets, all transactions are in US dollars (crisp and new only!). The psychological impact of handing over wads and wads of cash has surprised me -- it's much more powerful than handing over the plastic. I spent over $2000 yesterday on scarves and cushion covers and table runners and felt like I'd been hit by a truck!

The young man at the hotel desk has told me there is an Internet cafe with "amazingly fast" connection. If that's true, I'll get some pictures up! [no surprises here...]

Bukhara to Shahrisabz to Samarkand
Needless to say the amazingly fast connection that we were promised didn't deliver. Not even close. Last time I was in Samarkand the excuse was was that the IT workers were all harvesting cotton. Now it just seems that the IT infrastructure is still very limited. On the other hand, the evidence of economic development is once again very evident, lots of renovation and new construction that translates into jobs. A repressive regime with a growing economy is much less vulnerable to political dissent and criticism.

With the help of our guide, Mirza, I have visited private workshops and homes of some remarkably talented artists. The only remaining artist who painstakingly cuts cardboard templates for golden embroidery design invited me to stay in her home on my next visit. So many incredible people, living modest lives with such spirit, warmth and generosity.

Since the tourist season is coming to a close there are still a number of visitors but the streets and trading domes aren't packed. Vendors are anxious to sell what they can, calling "just look" or "best price, practically free!"

Now that my stomach is better, I'm really enjoying the food. Since it is the end of harvest season, the fruits and vegetables are abundant and delicious. Tomatoes, cucumbers, eggplants, squash and pumpkins all fragrant and delicious. And the melons make me understand why they were the subject of poetry.

Yesterday we drove to Samarkand via Shahrisabz, the birthplace of the fabled Tamerlane (Timur) who is now the fabled hero of Central Asia-- at least in the view of the Uzbeks who needed a nationalistic focus following the abrupt departure of the Soviets following the collapse of the USSR. The Western review of Timur is not so generous. 2016 will be the 680th anniversary of his birth and the amount of renovation since I first visited in 2013 is breathtaking. The major monuments have been linked with a giant green parkway of trees, flowers and grass at least 8 blocks long and a block wide with fountains and waterways. Except for the monuments the area is practically unrecognizable.

We arrived last night to a very windy and cold Samarkand. After quickly getting settled at our hotel, we walked to a restaurant for dinner. Thoroughly chilled by the time we arrived, I finally learned to appreciate vodka: warmth!

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From Fergana Valley to Karakalpakstan

10/18/2015

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It was a long day of travel to Nukus, nearly traversing the country. We left Fergana at 7 am and were able to reach Tashkent by 12:00. Leaving the province required us to get out of the car and present our passports at an office at the roadside -- complete with soldiers holding rifles, one even wearing a menacing black face mask. Fergana in recent decades has been the region of some protests against the government, the most notable being in Andijon where the official response involved the massacre of many hundreds. (Official and private accounts vary.) Thus the strong presence in the mountain pass.

A little background: The protest focused on the poor economic conditions and lack of support for the farmers. Having never visited Fergana before, it's hard to assess progress but from what I have seen there and in Tashkent, Nukus and Khiva, there is marked evidence of economic development and increased prosperity from just 2 years ago.

After lunch in Tashkent we had planned to take a walk but it was pouring rain so we rested until we met up with our guide for the rest of the trip, Mirza. After a 3 hour plane ride (Russian propeller aircraft -- Illuyshin? -- and very casual reference to safety procedures, although we did get your standard airline cold cheese sandwich...) we arrived in Nukus in the chilly dark. Nukus is the provincial center of the autonomous region of Karalkalpakstan and home of the Savitsky museum. Mirza tells us that fewer than 5% of tourists visit the museum. No question it's not easy to get to but it is so worth the effort. If you Google Savitsky Collection you'll be able to get an idea. A new facility is almost ready to open that will allow more of the 5000 archived pieces to be shown.

After visiting the museum yesterday, we drove to Khiva (one of the UNESCO World Heritage sites on the Silk Road), stopping at Tepprakala and Ayuzkala desert forts, both originating from 1000-2000 BC. The ever present poplars growing along the canals were in full autumn splendor and a slightly overcast sky illuminated the subtle colors of the steppe. Arriving in Khiva at dusk was glorious: pink and golden skies contrasting the turquoise tiled minarets and warming the brown mud walls of the city and it's buildings. Once the sun goes down, it's very cold here but the rooms in our lovely small hotel have heaters and after some hot soup, I slept for 10 hours.

Today while Sue tours with Mirza, I'm meeting with vendors and staying close to the hotel since I have picked up a GI bug. As tourism grows here, a name -- like Monteczuma's Revenge -- for this affliction must be coined. Any suggestions?

It will probably be a couple of days before I write again (from Bukhara) but I'll try to post some pictures!

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Kumtepa Bazaar

10/15/2015

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So back to the pictures. First you should know that Mahmoud has 5 children and 11 grandchild of whom he is very proud. He's a nice man, a friend to all we encounter, polite. This makes the next 2 images on his phone especially astonishing. First: a naked 1100 pound woman lying on her stomach, looking saucily at the camera. He says she is from Los Angeles; perhaps it's her American roots that makes him think we might be interested. The next is a 50 pound anorexic woman. Also Western. Mystifying, horrifying.

Kumtepa was amazing and I found some wonderful (really!) ikat yardage. Central Asian bazaars are bustling, crowded affairs -- shoppers jamming the narrow aisles, porters and snack vendors vying for space and threatening the wellbeing of your shins. One minute you're eyeing wedding wares then you turn a corner to be blasted by smoke from grilling shashlik. Everything can be found in a regional bazaar: livestock, furniture, car parts, underwear, hair dye, cow stomach. All you have to do is ask. Two hours feels like six to me. Before departing we stopped for tea and a tasty fried dough and potato snack.

Sardor, our guide, proposes we take an hour to drive to Namangan because there is a wholesale supplier of suzani embroidery. While most of the Uzbek suzani is produced in the Fergana valley, it is sold to dealers and retailers from the major tourist cities of Uzbekistan and Turkey. So we drive to an old madrasah, Sardor makes some calls, Susan and I take pictures with some old men and wait for a young man to arrive. He joins our car and directs us to a home in a distant neighborhood where we are greeted by the young man's father. Upstairs in a room we are shown amazing handiwork, a good slice of which is coming home.

Then we go to Mahmoud's home for lunch. (His next to youngest son is driving.) This includes meeting his wife, daughter in law, 4 of grandchildren; seeing the family compound with orchard, garden, cows, chickens (and an elliptical machine!); enjoying a delicious meal with cream and yogurt from the cows, salads and fruits, delicious soup. As he sits with his 2 year old grandson, graciously pouring tea and serving food, I think of those strange pictures he showed us yesterday and, while I don't understand, I think it's more an innocent curiosity about something exotic, foreign and incomprehensible.

Tomorrow we drive back to Tashkent and catch a flight to Nukus in the west of Uzbekistan near the (disappearing) Aral Sea. That will give me more time to write and select pictures to post. Jet lag hits hard at the end of a long day.

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Seattle to Tashkent to Fergana

10/14/2015

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After about 30 hours of travel we hit the ground running in Tashkent and are either on the move or passing out from exhaustion and jet lag. We spent Tuesday visiting the Museum of Applied Arts, Yuri Pak's woodblock printing studio, a madrasah crafts cooperative, Bibi Hanum textile studio and the Chorsu Bazaar. All amazing.

Yesterday was a 6 hour drive to the Fergana Valley plus stops at a remarkable silk factory and another madrasah crafts cooperative. It was an 11 hour day before we checked in at our hotel. Unbelievably in this small provincial capital, the receptionist looked like an overdone plastic surgery patient with lips only slightly smaller than her boobs. She was very bright, funny and kind.

Our driver, Mahmoud, is a grandfatherly retired policeman who took us to a roadside food bazaar where we met so many lovely women selling bread, melons and other foods. Lots of pictures and hugs and sign language. The warmth of the people is incredibly moving. Over lunch Mahmoud showed us cell phone videos of his youngest grandsons (adorable of course). The images he showed us next were perplexing. To be continued....

Off to the famed Kumtepa Bazaar and points yonder!

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A little research

10/1/2015

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So I'm in the process of writing out all the details of the itinerary for family and as I looked at the names of the hotels, I wondered about The Grand Orzu in Tashkent where I stayed in 2013 and will stay again in just a week and a half. Since it is decidedly not grand, I thought perhaps that finding the origin of "orzu" might be illuminating. Maybe it's derived from old Turkish for bad plumbing.

Orzu, according to wikipedia, is the name of two towns -- one in Romania and the other in Iran -- and I'm going with Iran since it is closer to Uzbekistan. Orzu, Iran is a village in the west, in the area of the Persian Gulf and the Iraq border. At the 2006 census, its population was 192, in 34 families. (The other Orzu is one of ten villages in the Negomir commune in Gorj County, Romania. Population unknown.) It's hard to imagine that either Orzu was the inspiration for this hotel all the way in Tashkent.

So after mulling this over, I used Google Translate and discovered that in Uzbek, "orzu" means "dream." So now it makes sense, The Grand Orzu: a little hotel with a big dream.

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return to Central Asia

9/28/2015

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As you may know, I am trying to develop a textile importing business featuring traditional handicrafts ethically produced and adapted for the Western market. Having fallen in love with the suzani and ikat of Uzbekistan and the fused silk & wool of Kyrgyzstan, I am returning to increase my inventory as I prepare for the holiday season and the launch of online sales (placeholder site is caravanthology.com). And things are looking up: Uzbekistan is no longer the lowest overall ranking country on the World Bank's ease of doing business evaluation. (That honor now goes to Eritrea.) It's now 141 (just ahead India) out of 189! But Uzbekistan has guarded its position with respect to trading across borders: it's still at 189. Way to go, Uzbekistan!

When I head out on October 11, I'll transfer through Istanbul where I meet up with my traveling companion, Sue, the older sister of my childhood friend, who shares my curiosity and willingness to travel to -- shall we say -- more unusual places. Mentored by the wonderful Penelope Price (www.uzbekjourneys.com) who organized the tour of my first visit, all of our local arrangements have be secured by the Tashkent travel agency she has worked with for many years. With the services of Penelope's favorite guide, Mirza, we will follow an itinerary I have designed for the next 16 days: a day in Tashkent, eastward to the fertile Fergana Valley, then to the far Western province of Karalkalpakstan where the fabulous Savitsky Collection of Uzbek art and Russian avant garde paintings in Nukus. Then the classic stops on the Silk Road: Khiva, Bukhara, and Samarkand before a final few days in Tashkent. With feedback from Sue and Mirza, I am thinking about offering a small group tour in 2016 so I can share this amazing part of the world with others. Of course, part of the time while Mirza is guiding Sue, I will be visiting with producers and buying scarves, shawls, cushion covers, handbags, table runners and....

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Reflections on my way home

2/2/2015

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Just boarded my flight from Houston to Seattle and I'm looking forward so much to getting home after a very wonderful transition period in Houston with dear friends Deborah and Susie.

I'm reflecting that on my way from Frankfurt into Mumbai four weeks ago, I was seated next a lovely young NRI family (Non Resident Indian) from Chicago who were traveling with their 20 month old twin toddlers for an 8 day vacation... 4 days visiting family in Mumbai and 4 days in Goa at the beach. When I expressed astonishment over such long journey for a comparatively brief stay, the dad looked at me for a moment and then asked, "Have you ever been to India?" When I tell him no, there's another long pause before he tells me, "India is really INTENSE." And, as I've written earlier, it really is. Especially the contrasts: the beauty and the squalor; the wealth and the poverty; the uber modern and the ancient... it goes on and on.

The biggest downside of traveling with a group is that it limits contacts with natives, decreasing opportunities to talk with the locals and get a sense of what their lives are really like. But as I said before (I think), if I had tried to come to India on my own, I would have hidden in my hotel room. What we see in the magazines and movies are romantic images of India, the whimsical and the quixotic. The popular images don't capture the grit and garbage; the scrawny, scabbed dogs everywhere, darting through traffic; the pigs. Yes, there are pigs rooting through the garbage piles on the streets of downtown Jaipur as well in adjacent villages. Actually, it's a pretty good way to get rid of the garbage that the cows won't eat. And I thought that perhaps it was the ideal place to be a pig: Hindus (vegetarians) don't want you and Muslims are forbidden to partake. I asked our guide who told us that the garbage collector and street sweeper class (untouchables) do in fact slaughter and eat them. And, in so doing, further reinforce their position at the very bottom of rung of the caste system.

Being a ground transportation passenger in India requires compartmentalization. First, the traffic flows on the left side so that is adjustment number one.. And, if there are lanes, they have no meaning. Compartmentalization helps you maintain a non-traffic focus so you won't flinch, blanch, gasp or recoil every time a tuk-tuk veers within inches of the bus, or a person/dog steps in between your vehicle and the other one that's moving alongside you. And the horns: they are constant yet they are not hostile. They seem to be the friendly equivalent of a tap on the shoulder to let whoever's near you know where you are. In fact, most trucks have the following message painted on the back: "Horn Ok Please!"

In the cities it is very easy to find people who speak English since it is compulsory in school. As you move towards the smaller cities and villages, there are more creative uses of English. In Bhuj, the word "surprise" seemed to carry some cache. It was frequently included in menu items but that's hardly original. Best uses, however, go to Surprise Beauty Salon and Surprise Plumbing. Another favorite was Ephemeral Business Services.

Will I go back to India? Not right away, but yes, I think it's likely. When I got a chance to speak with people on the street as a visitor (but not strictly a tourist or a shopper), I loved the openness, warmth, and generosity; the huge smiles; the kids waving from the streets. Then there's the diverse geography/culture, the monuments, the history, the art, the wildlife. And the textiles are amazing. I like to think I would be better prepared and more confident.

A lot to think about. From the comfort of my home in the company of Kali and Milo. HOME!

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Block printing workshop in Kaladera

1/29/2015

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Another wonderful day spent off the tourist path enjoying the hospitality of locals. Kaladera is a village about an hour outside Jaipur where a family has organized a traditional block printing business, combining the separate talents of printers, dyers, and overseers. Our workshop started with breakfast in the business family's home and included printing two scarves, touring the village, dancing at an election victory celebration (the winner a 19 year old!), lunch with the family, and observing the dyeing of out scarves. The food was among the best of the trip. These kinds of experiences will be the memories that could bring me back to India. I'll let the pictures tell the story

Front "yard"

Stacks of carved blocks in workshop

Drying resist patterns before dyeing

Indigo dye bath

Drying in the sun atop dirt, weeds and dung.

Color everywhere

We engaged in numerous high fives and lots of eye contact but smiles were not forthcoming.

Hostess with her daughter and niece

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The Beach at Mandvi

1/29/2015

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We spent two nights here -- not much to say or show since I was at a low point with GI issues. Very much appreciated my private tent and western plumbing. Gorgeous private beach on the Arabian Sea, very quiet, all kinds of birds including flamingos.