Bukhara city up close
There is something magical about spending time in one of the oldest continually inhabited places on the planet. From here, ideas about spirituality, philosophy, astrology, architecture, mathematics, medicine and art spread around the ancient world.
On May 20, I arrived to Uzbekistan to attend the International Gold Embroidery and Jewellery Festival in Bukhara. The arrival and the day so far has been astonishing. Welcomed off the plane, a parade this morning. A personal tour of the old city by two super cool Dental students. Amazing art and architecture. Mind blown.
I travelled solo and it was a challenging trip, but nowhere near what Layla, Joanna, and Serena have had to endure. It took me nearly two days and I arrived last night close to midnight. The others are still on a 5 hour long bus ride, after flying through Tahiti, LA, Istanbul and Tashkent to finally arrive. They’ll all deserve a hug.
Now, on the last day, waiting for Covid tests in the lobby of Karavan our home for the last 5 days, we are finally adjusted. The jet lag is only a minor shadow and we are ready to enjoy the city and the people. There is so much more to explore. More friends to meet and wonders to absorb.
Bukhara is a city full of ancient architecture. I was told there is evidence of a city here going back 3000 years. Before it moved to Constantinople, this was the commerce centre of the ancient world. It was the final destination of the Silk Road.
The Uzbek ethnic group is one of the oldest on the planet. There have been multiple empires and some of the most famous despots or leaders of history made this place and this region home - Genghis Khan Temur, Alexander the Great, the Hellenistic Seleucid Empire, the Greco-Bactrians, and the Kushan Empire and the list goes on.
One of the things that thrilled me about Bukhara was the details. Tiling on the architecture, tessellation on windows, carved pillars, mosaics.
I will probably end up referencing these images as inspiration in my own creations as many have over the last three millennia. The artistry and vision of the people of this place has ensured it is an inspiration throughout the ages.
This entrancing earthen fortification is called The Ark and was built prior to the 5th century CE And covers 3.96 ha (9.8 acres). The walls vary from 16 to 20 m. It’s been the residence of rulers of the region right up until early 1900s. It has a rich history of war fare, conquest and it’s a good guess that it has seen it’s fair share of intrigue as well.
Apparently, inside is a large complex of buildings, which at one stage contained a hugely respected library, harem and a beautiful mosque. I didn’t get time to see it. Another reason to returning guess.
The origin story is quite cool too. A local hero called Siyavusha fell in love with the daughter of an important chap from Afrosiaba (side note - cool name for a region). He would only approve their marriage if Siyavusha built a palace and bound it in a single bull hide. Siyavusha, being a cunning chap made thin strips from bull leather which he tied around the Ark, winning the hand of his love and the admiration of all who enjoy thinking sideways for problem solving.
What about the name though? That’s kind of interesting I thought… Looking it up I find that Ark means fortress, castle or citadel in Persian.
On the fourth morning I woke to discover that the coffee machine where we are staying was broken. It wasn’t great coffee but man it’s helped with the jet lag. Fortunately our friend Caroline Gutman, who is an American photo journalist, with a similar caffeine habit, had a hot tip on a German cafe nearby. Like some brave intrepid traveller I set out to get my fix. The bloody place was closed.
So, I decided to just meander around, take a few pictures, some video and make my way back for that espresso goodness.
I found myself at the lake in the centre of the old city. I had ice cream here the first day I arrived and I saw they had an espresso machine! Woot! Win!
I ordered my coffee and sat in the shade. A couple of tables away, sat an elder man. He caught my eye and and offered me ‘Salam’ which I returned and through gesture I asked if I could join him.
Mishka, is a native of Bukhara but lived much of his life in Moscow. He’s retired and his career was in the Navy. He has two adult children who live in Moscow.
Mishka is well travelled including England, Scotland, Ireland, Japan, Korea, USA and India where he personally met and shook hands with Indira Gandhi. Most of his story I had to interpret with hand gestures, some small understanding of Russian (no idea how I picked that up) and similarly small English lexicon.
Via Google translate I was able to tell him a story about Layla’s great grandmother who converted to Islam, married an important man, lived in Pakistan and had the honour of hosting Gandhi I’m her home. We were both impressed that we were able to connect in this somewhat convoluted way.
Mishka also explained that the lake was very deep, more than 10 metres and confirmed my suspicion that this water was the reason that Bukhara was here in the first place.
So glad the coffee machine was broken.
Last night during the closing show we had a surprise. Not just a ‘surprise’ either, something more aligned with a gift. There was a small break and a man walked on stage from the front row seats. He sang. Oh my goodness how he sang. I’ll probably regret that I didn’t catch the whole show on video. Fabio Andreotti is an Italian opera singer who is currently teaching a master class in Tashkent. Someone at the festival had the remarkable insight of bringing this amazing man into the show.
If you know me you know that I am obsessed with music. I have deep passion for beautiful voices and this performance was the most moving demonstration that I have ever experienced, of the beautiful sounds a human can produce.
After the show Serena met him. Then today as we were on the plane, with Serena sitting beside me we realised that he was in the immediate seat beside me. Kismet!
We had the most interesting talk about the basis of opera, the Italian perspective on sound and vowels. He also brought up his respect of Maori waiata and karanga. He also explained some ideas on the use of different parts of the anatomy, chest, throat, head, to produce different sounds. He was friendly and open and expressed a genuine interest in Aotearoa New Zealand.
The closing ceremony. This festival has been absolutely amazing. The production values of the closing ceremony were top notch.
The music on this video and the singing are live with two orchestras moving form very traditional to electronic dance music. The video hit the spot for me with images of the mosaics, carvings and patterns of the artwork on ceramics in kaleidoscopic wonder.
Then half way through the show Gulomdjan Yakubov took the stage. He is an opera singer with an astonishing range. I’ve never been an opera fan but I have an appreciation of great voices and this human has something special.
At one point there was a map of the Silk Road and it featured dance and music from the key cultures that contributed to this main vein of trade, philosophy and ideas.
Then we were called onto the floor in front of the stage to dance. A line of young women came from side of stage to dance with us and the joy was palpable, and tiring. By the end my heart was racing and my cheeks were sore from smiling.
When we sat again, two Uzbek guys sitting beside me wearing ‘don’t mess with me I’m an important man suits’. They turned to me and said “you dance so beautifully…” and then another man dragged me up to dance with him in front the whole crowd, maybe a thousand people. It was hilarious. At the end of the dance he’s started to do some traditional style moves trying to outdo me. So I busted out some old body popping and blew him out of the water.
Then this morning Poppy, an English friend said that she’d left early, switched on her tv and saw the whole dance extravaganza live!
I feel attached to this place now and I’m certain that it will call me back for the rest of my life. I dearly hope that I can, again and again.