I am the luckiest of all the lucky travellers. Watarimono, you’re sure earning your space in my bag, because today was just about perfect.
Around Samarkand
One last “sightseeing day” today. We started off after breakfast at the Registan, which is the main city square surrounded by three madrasas. The “Oxford of the East” is probably the most recognizably-picturesque sight of the region. We lined up at the security gate behind a bunch of musicians, only to be told when we got to the front that it was still closed to tourists. Nope, nyet, neh, no getting in this morning. Maybe try again later. We did, however, get the fun of seeing a Finnish musician demonstrate playing a musical saw, after a skeptical police officer didn’t believe it was an instrument and not a weapon.
From there, we walked over to the Bibi Hanoun Mosque, stopping along the way in the series of souvenir shops that line the pedestrian walkway for a bit more shopping. The mosque, named after one of Tamerlane’s wives, is famous and has a bunch of legends associated with it, but mostly, it’s starting to look like all the other similar 3M (mosque, minaret, madrasa, or 4M if you add mausoleum) buildings we’ve seen thus far. I suppose it’s not fair to Samarkand that this is the last stop on our trip, because all these sights really are stunning, but they do have a tendency to blend together after a while.
We stopped off at the grocery bazaar for a bit of a wander around the market stalls of people selling fresh and dried fruits, vegetables, and sweets. I bought some halvah, which was delicious. It’s been a while since I’ve had good halvah.
In the afternoon, we stopped off at two more sights. The first was the observatory of Ulugbek, one of Tamerlane’s grandsons. Ulugbek was a scientist and astronomer in the 15th century, known for his arch and sextant used to predict eclipses and angles of the planets. The observatory was considered one of the finest in the Islamic world. Part of the arch remains and can be seen, and there’s a small museum nearby too.
Finally, we paid a visit to Shah-i-Zinda necropolis, considered to be one of the holiest sites in Islam outside of Saudi Arabia. It’s the symbolic burial place of Kusam Ibn Abbas, one of Muhammed’s cousins, and as such, it’s a place of pilgrimage for Muslims from all over Central Asia. Non-Muslims and regular tourists like us are allowed inside, and we waked around the complex — which really is quite beautiful — and listened to a local Imam pray at the tomb site. One of the things I’ve noticed about Uzbekistan is that most of the mosques and religious sites seem quite happy to welcome tourists, which is a switch from other places where only the faithful are allowed inside. I think it’s a positive thing, as it helps foster communication and understanding between religions. Also, on a purely personal level, it’s nice to be allowed to see so many of the sights.
We had a quick lunch at a small cafe just off the Registan, and then tried again to get inside for photos. It was still closed, but this time we could hear some of the musicians rehearsing behind the gates. Rustam tried again to negotiate our way in, and again failed. But… he still had a trick up his sleeve.
Festi-success
So, remember how I was telling you yesterday that the folk music festival was only for government members, dignitaries and VIPs, and that tickets were almost impossible for regular people to get? Well, it turns out that Rustam has been busy on the phones for a few days, behind the scenes, working his network. I don’t know how he did it, exactly, but he managed to come up with the supposedly-impossible: Tickets! Not only tickets, but free tickets, by invite of the Ministry of Tourism! For all of us! Festi-fail had become festi-success.
We headed over to the site and this time, the security wasn’t going to keep us out. Not with our magic entrance passes. We went through the metal detectors and then were directed to a women’s area for a pat-down. The female security guard was amused by the large stack of money I had in my money belt. I said “Uzbek money” because the value of the bills are so small that everyone carries around large wads of cash here. She just laughed and patted her chest pockets and said “Uzbek women carry here! That’s why so big!”
There weren’t any assigned seats, and when we got to the festival it was still pretty empty. We sat down and settled in to watch. After intros, we were treated to folk musicians representing Bulgaria, China, Finland, Italy, Latvia and — just before we left for dinner — Mongolia. There were over 100 countries represented over the course of the festival, in total. Canada’s not here, it seems, but just about everyone else is.
I can’t even begin to describe how incredible it was to be there listening to beautiful harmonies and traditional music in such a stunning setting. The Registan is a beautiful square, but I think if we’d been here when it was open like any normal day, it would’ve just felt like another square with pretty blue buildings. Instead, we got to experience something truly unique. I took some photos and videos, sure, but I also mostly just listened and took it all in: The sounds, the lights, the sun slowly setting over the domes and leaning minarets.
A definite trip highlight. Maybe the trip highlight. I am so ridiculously lucky. Thanks, Rustam.
Want some plov?
For dinner, we went to visit a local family’s home for some plov. Plov as it’s known in Russian, will be more familiar to you as its local and western name, pilaf. It’s basically the staple food around Central Asia: Rice, carrots, some sort of meat (usually beef), and various spices and flavourings. Each region has its own unique way of making pilaf, and we got a demonstration of the Samarkand variety, made in a giant pot in the courtyard of their home.
We had a feast for dinner, including delicious salads, potato and zucchini samosas with local yoghurt, and of course, the plov. The hosts were nice enough to make a meat-free version for me so I could have some, which I’m sure wasn’t quite the full experience but was good nonetheless. Then, watermelon for dessert. Rustam produced a bottle of local Uzbek vodka to wash it all down, and we toasted him and Samarkand and the festival and the trip.
It’s not the last day of my trip, but tomorrow we begin the long journey home, so it sort of felt like it. Bittersweet though it may be, I couldn’t have asked for a better send-off from the Silk Road.