Samarkand, the Amir's last sigh

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Have just visited Amir Timur's mausoleum the Gur Emir... it was the end of a vast display of turquoise and midnight blue majolica tile. The buildings were impressive the Bibi Khanum mosque, the Registan with Ulug Beg's madrassah and the Shah Zinda as well as the big man's tomb itself. But somehow I was left slightly cold, it was not how I imagined I would feel being in Samarkand. As you try and dodge the many tour groups, on a trip of a lifetime!

Such a hold on our imagination that city has, as somewhere almost beyond the realms of the Western senses. The reality is more prosaic however magnificent. Amir Timur, even though not Uzbek himself, who lived in the land which is now Uzbekistan before the Uzbeks got there, he is the national hero of the Uzbeks and as such his buildings and those of his descendents have been restored to the nines. You don't really know what is new and what is old any more. But you can be sure most of the tile work, all those lovingly taken photos, are all of restored tiles. Oh well!

However on the other side of the coin, Timur or Ulug Beg or whichever ancient king or architect from the past would love their work and glory to be everlasting, to be gazed at for centuries after their death and for their names to be spoken with awe and praise. As such Timur would be delighted to be the national figure for a new people, whose language he did not speak. Such is the extent of his power, as he sees it!

The highlight of my visit to Samarkand though, has been getting out the city to a little village called Tim on the Royal Road between Samarkand and Buchara. This journey would once have lasted about a week, through unforgiving countryside but now was 3 hours on a high speed train. I had learnt that there is a Samanid mausoleum to Arab Atta. An ozzy guy, David was on for the adventure. It was a journey through the desert, sitting in marshrutkas or mini buses watching the donkey carts and simple houses. People carving a life from not very much. I was reminded of the cotton minister's son who an Uzbek guy I met saw in London, buying a BMW Jeep and putting new lights on for 8000 pounds - money which should have been fed into the country.

We changed marshrutkas at Kattakurgan and found another prepared to take us - and a few other people = to Tim. A kindly looking grandfather and a mother and child among them. We were the local attraction and everyone was fascinated by the Australian. My nationality probably as a woman slightly less important. It was probably presumed we would have the same!

In Tim we hopped over the wall to the cemetry and it was true, built in 977 the building was over 1000 years old. David was as excited as me, we were discovering something real, which I had never seen photos of, it felt like proper exploring especially after Samarkand ! The Imam showed up with the key, and we tried to get inside. By this time we were surrounded by shy local children, some happy to have their photos taken. Others covered their face with their hands and giggled. The Imam couldn't get the door open, I wondered the last time that it had been open and when was the last time that it had had visitors from abroad, as it were? David had a go and suddenly the lock gave in the intricate wooden door, past net curtains and we were inside looking at an old tomb. There was nothing else there just a tomb under the dome. However as our eyes got used to the light we made out the architecture. According to my book - Monuments of central asia b Edgar Knobloch - This is the first recorded appearance of a rudimentary murqana - or stalactite - now found on architecture all over the Islamic world.

It was great!

The Imam asked us if we wanted to pray with him, it seemed appropriate and we were happy to, the driver less so perhaps but knelt down gamely. Prayers in central asia end with a cupping action as if pouring water or blessings over yourself. I like this. Feels quite connected to it all. Soon after we left, mission accomplished. We had bargained hard and managed to get the journey from Kattakurgan all together hour and half each way plus waiting time for 23,000 - prob way to much still but everyone was happy and that was the main thing. Journey to Kattakurgan from Samarkand was about 4000 each.

On the way back from Kattakurgan, having stopped for a greasy but tasty Shashlik and bread in a simple roadside cafe, we sat in a high tec mashrutka with a DVD player. I was slightly concerned when the drivers eyes were on a gyrating madonna rather than the road, but we got there ok. Spotting cropdusters spraying the cotton fields on our way...

In the evening we met up with a young russian guy who took us what seemed miles to have a well deserved beer. I felt for him, in Uzbekistan he felt Russian however in Russia he was seen as an Uzbek. He wanted to move to the States and his dream, although he was studying structural engineering was to open a bar! He loved cocktails esp mohitos. He told us proudly about his 17 piercings, all done in the last 6 months.

Today visited the Ulug Beg observatory which in its day - 14th century was the most sophisticated in the world. He was still looked to as a great astronomer who mapped 1018 stars... observations and measurements made by an astrolabe, as telescopes not yet invented. Remains of a huge sextant can still be seen, dug up by Russian excavations in 1908. We can imagine this philosopher king working there and not killing people like his grandfather. Unfortunately he was so gentle that his son thought he was wierd and killed him. Patricide....

Staying at Bahodir B&B - great to meet people, if that is what you want, but not if you like your creature comforts. It is cheap though for Uzbek standards, 12 USD..

I might be off to Tajikistan tomorrow, but am kinda at the mercy of the border guards. Am not sure will get in as visa does not start till 12th - but we will see. Ismet the guy at the Tajik embassy in London did say 1 or two days either side would be ok. Hmm if not will return to Samarqand. It is only 60k, so worth a go...

To be continued...

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