Mario Koch, Contributor, Tashkent, Uzbekistan
Words can evoke fantasies. Names can make us start daydreaming. Samarkand, the Great Silk Road -- entire pages of One Thousand and One Nights seem to take shape in our minds, Oriental sounds and smells seem to enchant our ears and noses.
It is early morning in the Uzbek capital of Tashkent. The main train station lies as tidy in the Spring sun as the whole city does. After the devastating earthquake of 1966, much of its centuries-old grandeur was replaced by modern Soviet-style city planning and architecture.
On the platform, my train is ready for departure to Samarkand. The golden letters on dark green ground adorning it bear a promise -- Registan, they say.
It costs only 5,600 som (US$4.50) for the comfortable journey into a mythical world.
Women in outdated uniforms serve green tea and beef sandwiches while clangorous Russian and Uzbek music turn the sleepiest passengers wide awake.
Having left Tashkent behind, we pass wide rocky desert plains alternating with green rolling hills. You'd think at least two different creators are answerable for these landscapes, one using sharply pointed pencils, the other using pastels and smudge effects.
From time to time, shepherds can be seen -- sitting in the shade of some lonesome tree they rest against their staffs, tending to their flocks of Hissar sheep. Not only the wool, but the oddly distinct rump of this breed makes for their utmost importance -- like the camels' hump, it serves to accumulate fat.
No plov, the Uzbek national dish made of rice, vegetables, raisins, spices and topped with meat, would deserve its name without the rice being simmered in that special fat. True beauty lies inside, I am reminded.
Drowsiness and the train's gentle jostling make me start daydreaming of ancient times.
We are following the Great Silk Road, the caravan trails connecting Europe, the Middle East and Asia that were the veins of international commerce before the boom in sea trade. From horizon to horizon, traders, slaves and heavily laden camels made their way through heat and dust to reach the bazaars of the fertile oases.
I, too, am heading for them. My train makes the 285 kilometers to Samarkand in less than 4 hours. It's pleasantly cool, fully air-conditioned, when a train crier calls: ""Samarkand... Samarkand!""
The station is huge. Concrete, steel and blue-toned glass dominate the structure.
Outside, neither Aladdin and his wonderful lamp nor a single camel are waiting for me. That is, nothing so far that fits into my freshly rekindled childhood imagination.
I opt for a taxi to the old town. Samarkand is mostly a modern city, the third largest in present-day Uzbekistan with a reputable university and more than 400,000 inhabitants.
But above all, it is one of the oldest inhabited cities in the world and for centuries, it was one of the most important centers of the Persian empire.
An incredible population of more than half a million people was said to have lived in ancient Afrosiab by the 10th century. Unfortunately, there's not a lot left to see of this early settlement nowadays -- Genghis Khan paid it a memorable ""visit"" in 1220.
Thus, our bumping taxi is heading for what Timur the Lame (Tamerlane), in 1370, made into the capital of his great empire that reached from India to Turkey. Often using force, Timur and his successors inhabited Samarkand with skillful artisans, craftsmen and scientists from all over the dominion, and erected inconceivable architectural gems.
There's no time for the cup of tea I am offered at the hotel. I`m feeling almost magically drawn to the square after which our train was named, the most magnificent ensemble of Islamic buildings along the Great Silk Road -- the Registan.
And then I stand in front of it, staring open-mouthed. The mystery of One Thousand and One Nights, the splendor of the Orient, the majesty of centuries-old architecture -- the three madrasah (Muslim clergy academies) -- are every bit as impressive as I imagined.
They all face the square. Built between the 15th and 18th centuries, the monumental buildings are kept in perfect condition.
Flanked by high, svelte minarets, the madrasah of Ulugbek and Sher-Dor border it to the left and right. Their impressive entrance arches are decorated with mosaic panels in different tones of blue, green and brown, featuring splendid geometrical ornaments.
The azure and golden dome of the Tillya-Kori Madrasah in the back reflects the midday sun. This place, where colorful markets as well as cruel public executions were held, radiates beauty.
There are benches opposite the square. Not entirely sure if it is just to enjoy or in order not to collapse, I sit down.
Slowly I recover, and I feel like seeing more of Samarkand. A short walk takes me to the restored mosque of Bibi-Khonym.
Timur had the mosque erected after his return from India -- where his campaign had left hundreds of thousands dead. It was the most gigantic mosque ever constructed at the time, with the cupola of its main chamber raised up to 40 meters high.
In his Book of Victories, Sharaf-ed-din, a contemporary of Timur, wrote about it: ""Its dome would be the only one, if the sky had not been its repetition; the arch would be the only one, if the galaxy had not been its pair.""
But not long after its completion in 1404, the Bibi-Khonym began to collapse and fall into ruins. This, it is said, was because God rejected the ""blood-stained"" offering; or according to the Prophet Mohammad's words, ""pride leads to destruction and arrogance to downfall"".
The weather abruptly changes while I am in the courtyard. Heavy clouds parade across the sky. Wind erupts. The buildings' facades answer with soulful moaning and groaning. I catch myself wondering if the same fate that overtook the mosque 600 years ago might also overtake the rebuilt one.
To make the most of the slightly peculiar mood with which Bibi-Khonym leaves me, I continue, following the theme of beauty and death. I reach the great necropolis Shakh-i-Zinda by crossing a modern-day Samarkand graveyard located on a hill to the east of town.
The granitic and marble gravestones here bear the portraits of the dead buried underneath. I look into faces of old men in highly decorated uniforms, of women partly hidden by jilbab and of smiling children. Between them, the wind swirls leaves from the surrounding mulberry trees through the narrow paths.
In the background, the 20 mausoleums of Shakh-i-Zinda meander down the hill. There, they seem to gush over the ancient city wall. Forty-four tombs lie covered beyond their walls and beneath their majolica-tiled domes.
This architectural ensemble's name translates as ""the living king"". Legend has it that Kusam-ibn-Abbas, cousin of the Prophet, was buried here. It is said that he was beheaded for his faith, then took his decollated head and went into the ""deep well"", where he still lives.
Even if Kusam-ibn-Abbas might never have visited Samarkand at all, for many centuries clergymen and lords had themselves interred close to the ""holy grave"". Thus, from the 9th to the 19th centuries, the complex steadily grew in size.
Not only Shakh-i-Zinda itself, but also the great panorama over Samarkand and the Zeravshan valley in which it is nestled, make for the unique atmosphere and beauty of the place.
Against a background of mountains and never-ending vineyards, I see the modern city: its houses, parks and boulevards. Scattered in between though, like islands of a living past, are the portals, domes and minarets of the ancient town. They still dominate Samarkand's architectural silhouette.
I feel the urgent need for some down-to-earth experiences to round out that slightly aloof day. A stroll over to the city's main market promises some contact with the living. Back to the present. It appears to be the ideal finale.
The market, like elsewhere in Uzbekistan, is partly canopied and greenish glass is used for the roof -- thus, the food always looks a little pale. Special Western-style lighting for the ideal presentation is still far off. (If you have the chance, try a single Uzbek tomato or pomegranate -- you'll know they don't need it.)
From behind the bulks of spring onions, strawberries, dried fruit and almonds, dozens of rows of gold teeth smile at me. Little children proudly present their precious coronas -- a true status symbol in gold-rich Uzbekistan.
The people are incomparably friendly. Seldom have I experienced such hospitality as I did in this Central Asian country. Almost no day went by without me being invited into somebody's home -- to have a cup of tea, some plov, even to dance inside the living room.
At market, I am offered to try Korean salads, verdant green apricots and small goat-cheese taw. Women in colorful dresses show off wheel-sized flatbreads. I end up buying dried fruit -- kilos of dried fruit. I like the old seller.
Outside, the sun is about to set over the Registan. The city turns into silhouettes of orange and violet. We have a glass of wine and some vodka at the hotel.
The next day I will see Gur-e Amir -- ""tomb of the king"" in Tajik. It is Timur the Lame's great mausoleum. Gur-e Amir is said to be the architectural precursor of such gems as Agra's Taj Mahal. Inside an intricately decorated room, the conqueror lies buried underneath a huge, single block of jade.
When Timur died in 1405, he left an extensive empire that boasted a fascinating capital -- this is Samarkand.
Go Uzbekistan
How to get there * Uzbekistan Airways flies Kuala Lumpur-Tashkent or Bangkok-Tashkent several times weekly
Visa requirements * Visas for package tours are usually dealt with by the issuing travel agency. * Individual travellers need an invitation from any Uzbek or Uzbekistan-based organization.
Uzbek Embassy Jl. Brawijaya Raya No. 7, Block P-5, South Jakarta Tel: (021) 7399009, 7221640, 9134212 Fax: (021) 7221640
Currency (Exchange rate at time of writing) Som (UZS) 1 UZS = 7.19 IDR 10,000 IDR = 1,390 UZS
Price reference * Typical dish at a small restaurant: Rp 3,600-10,800++ * Bread and breakfast accommodation: Rp 100,000++ * Liter of bottled water: Rp 3,000
Tip Uzbekistan doesn't have ATMs, but money changers are plentiful. Bring US$.
Where to stay Some inexpensive recommendations:
* Samarkand: Hotel Bahodir B&B; centrally located family-run affair with friendly staff; rooms from Rp 80,000++; breakfast included, traditional dinner available for an extra Rp 9,000 * Buchara: Hotel Fatima & Ibragim B&B; centrally located with nicely furnished modern rooms from Rp 105,000++; great breakfast included * Khiva: Hotel Arkanchi B&B; centrally located with great views from the roof-terrace; rooms from Rp 105,000++; breakfast included
Getting around * By plane: Uzbekistan Airways connects different regions by frequent domestic flights * By train: Trains are inexpensive and comfortable; the network of night trains are an especially good option. * By taxi: Taxis are also relatively cheap and reliable option for inner-city as well as long-distance travel; long-distance taxis usually carry four passengers, but can also be privately chartered
-- Mario Koch
