My Kazakhstan/Central Asia Reading List

I’m in quarantine!

Not American-style quarantine where we were all, “I’m quarantining except when I stop by Target for a few essentials.” Real quarantine, where cameras make sure I don’t leave my room, meals are left outside my hotel room three times a day, I have to report my temperature twice a day and get tested for Covid every few days, and I don’t actually see people at all, except when someone in full PPE comes to stick swabs up my nose and down my throat. 

All my meals include fresh fruit, which is sometimes not entirely recognizable but nonetheless appreciated!

To keep myself busy, I thought I’d do a blog post that was long in my mind during my time in Kazakhstan when I found that books about the Soviet ‘stans, at least in English, weren’t easy to come by. Even super librarian Nancy Pearl wasn’t much help.

The combined number of books about Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan, and Uzbekistan in Nancy Pearl’s travel book? ZERO.

So with all this time on my hands, I can document the results of my reading efforts in case any random internet user is ever looking for (mostly) non-academic books about Soviet Central Asia. Feel free to skip this post if you’re not interested in reading about me, reading about Central Asia. Hopefully my next post will be post-quarantine, full of interesting tidbits about my new home. 

Apples Are From Kazakhstan by Christopher Robbins: A pretty breezy travelogue until midway through when the author gains tremendous access to (now former) president Nursultan Nazarbayev and, seemingly because of that, forms an awfully rosy view of him. So it’s about Kazakhstan but also a lesson about the perils of access journalism (Hello Maggie Haberman)?

Letters from Between the Humps: Adventures and Misadventures in Kazakhstan by Patricia Vail: self-published memoir by an American lawyer volunteering in Almaty when Kazakhstan was newly independent. I enjoyed the picture of 1990s Almaty. Some things I recognized as 100% “my” Almaty while other things were completely different.

Lands of Lost Borders: A Journey on the Silk Road by Kate Harris: Authored by an over-achieving academic, scientist, adventure traveler, and writer. Perhaps not the best read for anyone prone to an inferiority complex. Kazakhstan is only a small part of the overall journey but it was still a good read. 

A Thousand Sisters: The Heroic Airwomen of the Soviet Union in World War II by Elizabeth Wein: Young Adult non-fiction, includes only a tiny morsel about Kazakhstan: one of the “Night Witches” who flew in combat against the Nazis was Khiuaz Dospanova, a Kazakh who fought for the USSR as a pilot, navigator, and gunner.

The Hungry Steppe: Famine, Violence, and the Making of Soviet Kazakhstan by Sarah Cameron: The Ukrainians lost between 3 and 7.5 million of their population during the Holodomor, the famine of 1932-33. The Kazakhs “only” lost 1.5 to 2.3 million. But as a percentage of population, the Kazakh famine, in which 38% of Kazakhs died, killed the greatest percentage of one specific ethnicity. Scholars debate whether these famines qualify as genocide or just incompetence. Ms. Cameron seems to come down mostly on the side of incompetence coupled with Russian ignorance about the environment and culture in Kazakhstan. An academic read but not too taxing.

Bas-Relief from the Kazakhstan Pavilion at VDNKh Park in Moscow. It’s supposed to be happy Kazakh herders but I couldn’t help but think “driving their cattle to slaughter in order to feed the Russians while the Kazakhs starve to death…”

Dark Shadows: Inside the Secret World of Kazakhstan by Joanna Lillis: Lillis is an English language journalist who lives in and covers Kazakhstan. Her book was published about five months before Nazarybayev resigned and she paints a far less favorable picture of him than does the author of Apples Are From Kazakhstan. I assume these short essays were adapted from her newspaper and magazine writings. Good for short bursts rather than in-depth examination. Want to learn about the famine but don’t want to read an entire book? Joanna Lillis has a chapter for you. 

The Great Game: Struggle for Empire in Central Asia by Peter Hopkirk: The definitive English language book on 19th century Russian and British maneuverings in Central Asia when the British were very concerned that Russians were setting up shop in the region specifically with an eye to closing in on and ultimately challenging British rule in India. It’s a pretty deep dive into the topic and I admit that I didn’t always follow all of the military maneuverings.

Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World by Justin Marozzi: Tamerlane/Timur is more Uzbekistan’s man than Kazakhstan’s but he did build Kazakhstan’s best known historic sight and he also died in what is now Kazakhstan. I get that when you spend years researching and writing such a book, you come to feel for your subject and maybe don’t want him to come off as a total douchebag. But I thought Marozzi was maybe too fair to Gurgin Timur.

The Horse, the Wheel, and Language: How Bronze-Age Riders from the Eurasian Steppes Shaped the Modern World by David Anthony: The steppe discussed here tends to be more Ukrainian and less Kazakh but modern Kazakhstan’s territory does make some appearances and if you are interested in the development of any of the title topics, there’s a lot of fascinating information. I found the language parts especially engrossing. 

At Home on the Kazakh Steppe: A Peace Corps Memoir by Janet Givens: The writer spends much of the book very disappointed in her husband/fellow volunteer, who sounds like a tee-totaling stick in the mud who won’t even pay for his portion of a meal if alcohol is served at it. Dude.

Chasing the Sea by Tom Bissell: Former Peace Corps Volunteer (of a whole six months) returns to his country of service, Uzbekistan. I first read this in 2016 after having read a devastating article about the Aral Sea by Bissell in Harper’s. I didn’t love this book, in part because he hardly spends any time at the Aral itself. I re-read it in 2019 around the time I traveled to Uzbekistan and while I still didn’t love it (Bissell has a certain sad sack quality I don’t take to), it was better the second time around when I was more interested in reading about Uzbekistan in general and not the Aral in particular. 

The Silk Roads: A New History of the World by Peter Frankopan: Maybe not quite as ground breaking as the author thinks it is (and The Guardian points out some errors), but it’s a worthy effort to look at world history centered more on silk road trading routes (Persia, Central Asia, China) and less on the Mediterranean (Egypt, Greece, Rome).

The Lonely Yurt by Smagul Yelubay: Not easy to track down or to read. This is a fictionalized story of Kazakhstan’s great hunger, mentioned above. The English translation seems to be the work of a nonprofit association and I don’t know if it’s the translation or the original that is so choppy. Some editing choices around page layout and spacing makes it even more so. If you can get through it, there’s worthwhile description of life in the auls (nomadic settlements) in the early years of Soviet rule, and some heartbreaking scenes of starvation as the famine takes hold. 

The Travels of Ibn Battutah by Ibn Battutah edited by Tim Mackintosh-Smith: The medieval Moroccan-Berber traveler visited Central Asia in the 14th century. His memoirs are crazy long and the most accessible English language version is severely edited. So do I blame the author or editor for the fact that Afghanistan and Turkestan combined get covered in about 10 pages? Not a super big fan of the titular hero as he takes slaves, pearl-clutches when he encounters unveiled women and platonic friendships among the sexes, and seems a-okay with some pretty horrifying customs (woman caught in adultery? Rape her to death!).

The Dead Wander in the Desert by Rollan Seisenbayev: Amazon is a legit terrible company but the translation arm of their business brings some pretty obscure works into the English speaking world and for that it’s hard not to be grateful. This sprawling epic sees characters go from WWII, through the Soviet-Afghan wars, through one of Kazakhstan’s most famous protests, almost up to Kazakh independence. The main characters are a Kazakh father and son straining against Soviet mismanagement of the Aral Sea. 

Genghis Khan and the Making of the Modern World by Jack Weatherford: Minnesota connection! A professor at Macalester is out to make a hero of Genghis Khan, or at least to balance his legacy, and damned if he doesn’t make a pretty convincing case of it. Better than Justin Marozzi did with Timur. I didn’t realize at first that the book is about the Khan’s entire legacy, not just his life, so I was surprised when Genghis died mid-way through the narrative.

Open Mic Night in Moscow: And Other Stories from My Search for Black Markets, Soviet Architecture, and Emotionally Unavailable Russian Men by Audrey Murray: You wouldn’t guess it from the title but this travelogue starts in Almaty and continues through Kyrgyzstan, Uzbekistan, Tajikistan, and Turkmenistan for the first full half of the book.  Whether you enjoy it will depend heavily on whether you find the author amusing. I personally vacillated between being impressed with and annoyed by her. Annoyed when she veered towards ugly American stereotypes, impressed when she navigated the labyrinth of visa bureaucracy without help from locals on staff at the consulate like I did!

A Carpet Ride to Khiva by Christopher Aslan Alexander: I bought my own carpet in Bukhara, not Khiva, and I bought wool, not silk. After reading this I was ready to go back to Uzbekistan to throw down another few thousand dollars for a silk Khivan rug. The narrative can get a little bogged down in the details but it really makes you appreciate all the work that goes into your souvenir.

Sovietistan: Travels in Turkmenistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan by Erika Fatland: enjoyable travelogue, although I did find an error or two. Lots of local color and even hard-to-explore Turkmenistan gets a section. That said, despite it’s heft, it is still trying to cover five whole countries in one book, so it sometimes goes wide but not deep. 

Murder in Samarkand (published in the US as Dirty Diplomacy) by Craig Murray: the memoirs of a British ambassador who is definitely a dick but who also stood up to his own government when they were hell bent on licking the boots of George W. Bush. Lots of minutiae of foreign service life and way too much about the ambassador’s alcohol fueled extracurricular activities involving exploitative sex with a local woman half his age.

Turkestan Solo: A Journey Through Central Asia by Ella Maillart: A Swiss lady traveler, in the early years of the Soviet Union, starts in Moscow before heading to Kazakhstan and Kyrgyzstan for mountain climbing, and then Uzbekistan for more familiar (to me) sightseeing. At the end when she is at the Aral Sea it’s hard not to feel sad about all that’s been lost there. 

A Peace to End All Peace: The Fall of the Ottoman Empire and The Creation of the Modern Middle East: by David Fromkin: Accidental Central Asia book! I read this account of how the winners of WWI cut up the remains of the Ottoman empire and while most of the focus is indeed on the middle east, several key decisions involve the Turkic speaking parts of the world under Russian control, aka Central Asia. Spoiler alert: judging by recent events in the middle east, the western powers did not learn anything. 

A Ride To Khiva: Travels And Adventures In Central Asia by Frederick Burnaby: A “great game” era classic as Burnaby, Victorian-era British army intelligence officer, makes his way to Khiva, often skirting official Russian rules to do so. 

Red Sands by Caroline Eden: Part cookbook, part travelogue. It came out while I was in Chinese class, lacking both free time and a well-equipped kitchen, so I have yet to try any of the recipes. But it’s a very beautiful book to look at. There’s also a suggested reading section that is super helpful. The same author co-wrote another recipe + essay book, Samarkand – Recipes and Stories from Central Asia and the Caucasus, that is a bit more of a straight up cookbook.

A Shadow Intelligence by Oliver Harris: To redeem Nancy Pearl…I did a pre-departure scroll through her Twitter feed to get ideas for fun quarantine reads that I could immediately check out of the library. This British spy thriller takes place in Kazakhstan and doesn’t come across as written by someone who has never been there. Impressive! Although, as with many spy thrillers, it’s awfully hard to keep track of who the bad guy is. 

I still have a few books about Central Asia that are on my “to-read” list:

• The Silent Steppe: the story of a Kazakh Nomad under Stalin by Mukhamet Shayakhmetov
• In the Kirghiz Steppes by John W. Wardell
• Mission to Tashkent by F.M. Bailey
• Through Khiva to Golden Samarkand by Ella Robertson Christie

But I don’t know when/if I will get to them. China has crept into my reading interests and lord knows books about China aren’t hard to track down, no matter if you want history, politics, literary fiction, or mystery and adventure novels. But I chose Kazakhstan, whereas China was chosen for me so maybe I will never be as excited about reading Chinese books as Central Asian books. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Silk Roads and Stargazers

Samarkand. Built with the wealth that Amir Timur plundered from military campaigns in today’s Iran, Afghanistan, Uzbekistan, Iraq, Georgia, Pakistan, Turkey, and northern India (his great-great-great grandson Babur established the Mughal Empire). Timur never went past Turkey and into Europe because he considered that continent beneath his notice. He had his eye on China when he finally died.

Appropriately, I finished Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World, on the train ride to Samarkand, capital city of Timur’s vast empire.

It’s where he invested the most and where he and his descendants built much of what we treasure about Samarkand today, including the first of the three madrasas of Registan Square, built by Timur’s grandson and successor, Ulugh Beg.

Samarkand was the place-name that jump started my interest in Central Asia back in 2012. It was also, I had been told multiple times, sure to be a let down after Khiva and Bukhara. Was making it the last stop on my itinerary courting disappointment?

Well, it wasn’t an auspicious start. While the train from Bukhara was fast and comfortable, no driver showed up at the station, as planned, to take me to the hotel. Laden with heavily-weighted baggage courtesy of my spendthrift last day in Bukhara, I had to bargain for a taxi, which dropped me at my hotel in the middle of a soviet era apartment block neighborhood.

Post-Soviet mural still reflects Soviet design ethos

If I hadn’t looked at a map, I would not have believed that the tour company had honored my request to put me within walking distance of Registan Square.

Just before sunset I set out to explore the much heralded Registan (pronounced with a hard “g” as it turns out), winding my way through the parking lots of the soviet apartments surrounding my hotel, and eventually emerging onto a busy four-lane city street surrounded by more apartments. Was this really the right direction? I trudged a few blocks until I caught a glimpse of what I had waited seven years to see. Registan square was…covered in a temporary platform consisting of plywood and green pipes.

Okay. The buildings themselves weren’t covered up, just the plaza ground. I reminded myself I was lucky to be here at all. But crabbiness threatened, fed by the tourist who plopped his bag in the middle of the front steps of one of the madrasas and proceeded to take photos, unencumbered by his bag or any consideration for his fellow tourists who might not want his backpack as our photo focal point.  Grrr…

And then…the sun set. The nighttime lights went on and illuminated the square. Everything was magic.

Before and after sunset. I tried to crop out the plywood and pipes but you can still see some.

 

Samarkand is Uzbekistan’s second largest city and the sights are more spread out than in Bukhara or tiny Khiva. Unlike in those towns, you’re bound to catch sight of garish Soviet architecture even if your hotel isn’t in what appears to be the parking lot of Khrushchyovka (don’t worry, the hotel grew on me).

But by god! the rest of it! The millennia of history! The stunning Timurid Architecture!

Yes, the Soviets over-restored Samarkand. But I’m a tourist, not an archeologist. Standing in the middle the plaza with those beautifully illuminated madrasas is a memory to treasure. I can’t believe how lucky I am to have lived a life that got me here.

Registan (“sandy place” in Persian) was mostly a bazaar and public plaza until Ulugh Beg commissioned the first medrasa. An astronomer and mathematician, Ulugh Beg brought (invited? coerced? kidnapped? That was his grandfather’s way) scholars to work and teach in Samarkand.The portal of his medrasa evokes the stars against the night sky to reflect his interests.

He also founded a nearby observatory where scientists produced catalogs of stars and calculated the rotation of the earth around the sun down to mere seconds.

Statue of Ulugh Beg

Excavated remains of the observatory’s sextant

 

While this madrasa was started in 1417, it took another 200 years before a second one joined it. Sher-Dor Madrasa means madrasa of the lions. It’s more like “ligers” but either way, a flagrant disregard for Islam’s prohibition against representational art.

 

A decade later, up went the final madrasa, Tilla-Kori, which means “decorated with gold.” And how!

 

The Registan was just the start. While secular Timurid buildings didn’t fare well (see observatory, above, and the ruins of one remaining palace, about 50 miles from Samarkand), many religious buildings from Timur’s reign survive today.

My guided tour the next morning took me not just back to the Registan, but also to Amir Timur’s own mausoleum, the Bibi-Khanym mosque (named after Timur’s wife), and to the Shah-i-Zinda Necropolis, a whole complex of mausoleums containing his family members. That may have been my favorite thing. If I ever come back, I’m headed there either as early or as late as possible to enjoy it even more with fewer crowds.

It’s difficult to explain how exquisite I found these sights. I literally gasped at times as I turned a corner or walked through a doorway and caught a new view of golden ceilings or dark blue tile work.

On my final evening I returned to both Registan square and Amir Timur’s mausoleum to see them lit up. I actually felt sick when I had to to depart. It didn’t seem right to physically turn my back and walk away from such places.

After Timur’s death, his succession plan was unclear and his grandson, known more for mathematics and astronomy than for military or civil society leadership, assumed control. Shortly thereafter things began to fall apart for the Timurid empire. But it sure left its mark.

As this is my final post on my Silk Road vacation, here’s a summary:

I have been privileged to travel to lots of beautiful places in this world but Uzbekistan was extra special.

If you prefer lower key cities, or have trouble looking past soviet urban planning, maybe I would recommend that you start your tour in Samarkand and head towards Bukhara and Khiva rather than going in the opposite direction as I did. But anyone who tells you that Samarkand is nothing compared to Khiva and Bukhara is a monster (note: this includes several of my coworkers. Should I walk the comment back? Nope⁠—MONSTERS!).

Other than the minor annoyance of having to get an actual visa for Uzbekistan ($20 online through a glitchy website), it’s very easy to navigate as a tourist. Khiva is a bit more out of the way but the fast train connecting Bukhara-Samarkand-Tashkent is comfortable and truly fast (unlike Kazakhstan’s “not as slow” trains). English is spoken widely in many of the tourist cities and if not, menus with pictures abound. Uzbekistan is also a steal–I don’t think I ever paid more than $5 for a meal and I ate at decent restaurants. Even if you tire of plov and dumplings, at least you never shell out much money for them.

Aim for autumn or spring to avoid scorching heat or ice planet of Hoth cold. You could do Uzbekistan on a real shoestring with hostels and shared taxis, but I opted to make things a little easier by having a tour company arrange my decent but not fancy hotels, private guides, and most of my transport. If that appeals, maybe go with an Uzbek company? Then you’ll pay Uzbek prices. Entrance to sights ranges from a few cents (literally) to about $6. The most expensive sight was the $16 ticket covering 90% of Khiva’s monuments for 48 hours.

While I opted to bring home embroidery, Uzbek hats, and the now infamous rug, you can also find beautiful jewelry, pottery, wooden furniture, and fabric in Uzbekistan. I probably would have grabbed some if I hadn’t already emptied my bank account. Of course, I just scratched the surface. There’s way more to Uzbekistan and Central Asia than this. But spread the word: Uzbekistan is beautiful, affordable, and not really that hard to visit. Other than the flight from the US, which is undeniably a pain. Sorry!

Samarkand has been occupied since at last 500 BCE. The ancient city is today referred to as Afrasiab. Excavations in the 20th century found this impressive multi-wall fresco depicting scenes from China, India, and Samarkand.

 

Shah-i-Zinda necropolis is said to mark the site that Muhammed’s cousin, who looked just like him, is buried. Later, Timur’s family members including sisters and a niece, were buried here.

 

The Bibi-Khanym Mosque, constructed during Timur’s rule, owes its current look to extensive restoration.

 

Pigeon finds a new home

The Gur-e-Amir was built for Timur’s original heir, who died prematurely. Timur himself planned to be buried in his birth city of Shahrisabz. However, because he died in winter when roads were impassable, here he rests.

Silk Roads and Spendthrifts

If Bukhara is known in the English speaking world, it is generally as the place where  “Great Game” era Englishmen Charles Stoddart and Arthur Conolly were imprisoned in a pit. And not a high end pit.

Bukhara has a nicer reputation these days as the “just right” baby bear’s porridge between overly preserved Khiva and the overly restored Samarkand.

Due to uncooperative train times, I opted for a private driver for my Khiva to Bukhara journey. Six hours, my longest leg of travel in Uzbekistan, driving through frankly boring desert. Our single stop of interest was an overlook over the Amu Darya river (aka the Oxus), which forms the border with Turkmenistan. Dull scenery + a driver that spoke almost no English? Good thing I had my biography of Timur to keep me entertained!

The most exciting sight for six hours

With a history spanning some 2,500 odd years, Bukhara’s had a to-be-expected share of ups and downs. During the Iranian Samanid Empire it rivaled Baghdad as a center of Islamic learning. Then, in 1220, Genghis Khan did his thing and left not much standing save the Kalyan minaret. (Bukhara is bigger than Khiva and has more sights to see, so it’s harder to isolate one specific photo focal point as with Khiva’s half-finished minaret. But if I had to choose something, this would be it).

Architecture covers a wide range and reflects the ups and downs. The Ark Citadel dates all the way back to the 5th century and was used as a royal residence and/or fortress⁠— breached by invading Mongols, natch, but not utterly destroyed⁠—in one way or another all the way through the attack by Bolsheviks in 1920. The nearby bug pit prison (zindon) was where Emir Nasrullah imprisoned first one and then then another visiting, and blundering, Englishman, ultimately executing both. On the one hand, the Englishmen vacillated between wildly culturally incompetent and downright offensive. On the other hand, the Emir was nicknamed “the butcher.” No one in this story is a hero.

Walls of the Ark Fortress. The unrestored bits reveal damage done by the Bolsheviks.

Two other buildings survived the Mongol invasion: an interfaith fantasia consisting of a ruined Zoroastrian temple topped with a mosque rumored to have doubled as a synagogue for Bukhara’s substantial Jewish population, and a 9th-century mausoleum that had been flooded and buried in mud by the time of Genghis’s 1220 rampage, eventually unburied in 1934.

Timur spent time in Bukhara, his mother’s birthplace, but he always favored Samarkand. So while a few buildings date from his reign and his successor grandson’s, Bukhara’s true glory days didn’t really start up again until the Uzbek Shaybanids came to power in the 1500s and made the city their capital.

Chashma Ayub: If you are willing to believe that the biblical Job existed, why not also believe he is buried here? The mausoleum was built during Timur’s reign.

 

Madrasa built by Timur’s grandson, Ulugh Beg

Chor Minor in original and replica form

 Abdulaziz Khan Madrasa

Miri-Arab Madrasa, dating from the 1500s and still in use

Kalan Mosque Interior Courtyard

Bukhara Kalyan Mosque

#yourtaxpayerdollarsatwork According to my guide, restoration work inside the Ark’s mosque was funded with a cultural preservation grant from the United States. Look at the dingy bit to see the before and after.

Once you met the Emir you had to keep bowing as you backed up out of the throne room. Once you were behind the partition you could stand upright.

The one remaining gate from Bukhara’s days as a walled city

Bukhara is no longer a walled city, but the core is still pedestrian friendly and nearly untouched by anything Tsarist, Soviet, or automotive. Pleasant strolling opportunities abound and though the guidebook mentioned Bukhara’s rabbit warren alleyways, to anyone familiar with Fes, Bukhara streets are as broad as Haussmann boulevards.

One change the Russians did make to the look of the city involved water supply. Bukhara was known for some 200 hauz, (Persian for “pool”). Peaceful urban oases? Sure. Teaming with waterborne diseases? Definitely. Today there are no pools left in Bukhara except Lyabi-Hauz, in the center of the old city.

Surrounding the pool, past the ring of restaurants and coffee/tea/beer kiosks, are two madrasas and an old boarding house for Sufi travelers. The most interesting madrasa was originally supposed to be a caravanserai but one day the Khan stops by and says “nice madrasa.” Next thing you know, everyone’s worried about making the Khan look bad so they decide, let’s just turn the damn thing into a madrasa. Not that anything like that happens these days.

This caravanserai-turned-madrasa is especially interesting because the tile work on the front depicts animals and even a human face. This is not down with Islam’s rules around representational art but my guide said it was because this was for Shia, not Sunni, Muslims and Shia are a little more loosey-goosey on the aniconism rules.

My perfectly located (and charmingly staffed) hotel made it easy to wish I had more time to linger in Bukhara, but I felt like I saw most of the key sights in one very full day. My guide, Guli, offered a second day of touring outside the historic core but I opted instead to head to one last sight on my own (I didn’t learn my lesson in Khiva—this was another disappointing modern palace built to emulate western styles) and to do some shopping.

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The new palace, Sitori-i-Mokhi Khosa

At my request, Guli gave me shopping advice. Her pro-tip: buy only from workshops, avoiding middleman dealers. She also showed me a specific suzani (embroidery) workshop and two rug workshops that she trusted. At both of the rug places I saw the women at work. Sometimes young women. Not girls I hope? I didn’t find any red flags in my guidebook or via google searching but I worry. (But then the armed Marines guarding our consulate all look 12 years old to me so I don’t think I’m the best judge of age. Or recruitment has hit a new low).

At one rug shop we ran into a tour group getting a presentation and we sat in. The woman running the show was so no-bullshit in her approach that I kinda loved her. Her presentation was basically, these rugs are amazing, here’s why, here’s how much they cost, here’s why, we take credit cards.

Here to sell rugs, not here for your bullshit

I hit up the suzani shop for some throw pillow cases but a rug took more thought. I knew that if I got something, it would be BIG. My government-issued apartment has been feeling a little too government-issued with its beige/brown theme, and while I love my three—THREE!—Berber rugs in various sizes, even the biggest isn’t big enough to pull together a whole room. My philosophy on a “Bokhara,” as the rugs are known in the west (Hey! It’s not just bug pits that make Bukhara famous!), was go big or go home. Recently I had seen a small silk rug at a co-worker’s house and when she said she’d paid a couple thousand dollars for it, I was aghast. Having since seen the workshops with my own eyes, I now think she got a bargain. Even small rugs take a year to make with that super thin thread! So silk? Out of my price range. Fortunately, I kind of prefer the feel of wool under my feet and thicker wool thread = more size for the buck.

Dyeing silk threads for carpet weaving

Carpet artist at work

I returned the next day and explained what I might be interested in. Boss-lady told me the largest wool rugs ranged from $2,000-$6,000, depending on wool quality and pattern intricacy. We flipped through a bunch. I didn’t make them show me every rug in the shop because I doubted I would actually buy one. In retrospect, maybe I should have made them work harder! I identified two that I liked. “You have expensive taste,” she said. My chosen two were, according to her, the highest quality camel wool made from the neck beard of baby camels. (Baby camels are already soft and the neck beard isn’t exposed to harsh sun).

As an American accustomed to Target shopping, I am terrible at bargaining. I also have mixed feelings about bargaining just for the sake of it when I know the labor that went into something. I decided which of the two rugs I preferred and I got the price down, but walked away having purchased the most expensive single thing I have ever bought for myself that was not a car. Could I have purchased a plane ticket to Morocco AND a large Moroccan rug for what I paid? Quite possibly. Although…I love my Moroccan rugs and maybe even prefer Berber designs, but they aren’t nearly as soft.

I should look at it as “an investment,” said both the boss-lady and, later, several Kazakhstan colleagues. “Something to be passed on to your children” was another comment. Look, if I had kids to pass things on to, do you think I’d have the money to afford a rug like this? NO. Which means friends and family, let me know now if you want this rug after I am dead.

Government-issued apartment, before and after Uzbekistan

 

Silk Roads and Slave Markets

As with all my stops on this trip, Khiva owes much to Gurgen Timur.*

Once upon a time Khiva was an insignificant town on a side road off more travelled Silk Roads. Regional powerhouse Konye-Urgench, in today’s Turkmenistan, was where the real action happened. Timur set his sights on that city in 1373. At first they surrendered to his rule. When they later rebelled, Timur responded as he was wont to do: razing the city to the ground, destroying irrigation systems, and massacring the people. The void left by Konye-Urgench’s destruction allowed Khiva to eventually take over as regional capital.

Per legend, Khiva was founded by Shem, son of Noah, late of ark fame. The city has been destroyed and rebuilt multiple times, with its current look owed to a spate of building by Allah Quli Khan, circa 1830s. Competition with Bukhara seems to have fueled much of the Khiva Khanate’s investment in literature, education, and architecture and it was through this competition that the most recognizable symbol of the city was created: the half built minaret started by Muhammad Amin (Allah Quili’s son) and intended to be taller than anything in Bukhara. Alas, after his death it was left unfinished. Even if it had been, rumor has it that the builder made a secret deal with Bukhara authorities to keep it just a hair under their own tallest.

The Kalta Minor is one of those sights that inspire a lot of pictures—from ground level, from atop rooftops, by itself, with neighboring buildings, full daylight, sunset, later sunset because the light changed, nighttime. I couldn’t get enough! Reader, you may feel differently.

Khiva’s entire Ichon-Kala (“within the walls”) was Uzbekistan’s first UNESCO world heritage sight. Some people fault it for being overly preserved and museum-like. All I can say is that I love museums!

Ichon-Kala can indeed be like a museum, albeit one where people live. There are four gates to the walled city and two of them even have turnstiles to track visitors. A $16 ticket allows two days’ entry to nearly all the monuments within the old town. While you’re free to walk around ticketless, you can’t go inside any buildings without one.

Ichon-Kala is small (I think the walls are under three kilometers around), super pedestrian friendly, and easy to explore on your own. Although during my initial solo touring I often thought, “I’m so glad tomorrow I’ll have a guide who can explain all this to me!” As expected, with a guide I got more context and saw a couple of sights, like the harem and the slave trading market, that I’d missed on my own.

While this isn’t Europeland in term of crowds, tourists have definitely arrived. I heard French, Italian, Russian, Korean, what I assume is Uzbek (it could also have been Tajik, widely spoken in Uzbekistan), and even American English (we. are. so. loud).

Morning was crowded but when I returned to spots after lunch, I was often alone save for vendors, who are everywhere, as befits a Silk Road trading town. I’m just glad these days they are selling awesome hats instead of selling people.

My guide said that pro-tourism tax incentives have led to many new guesthouses in the old town, owned and operated by locals. Which is fantastic as I know other cities with limited space (Venice, Fes, etc.) often see foreigners buying up property and pushing out locals. He also said that the government is considering visa-free travel for Americans but want the same for Uzbeks visiting the U.S. Breath will not be held.

One favorite moment was discovering, by reading a “do not enter” sign in multiple languages, that the word for “possible” in Uzbek is the same as it is in Darija. My own personal Rosetta Stone!

Khiva is full of gorgeously tiled madrassas, mosques, and a stunning mausoleum dedicated to Pahlavan Mahmoud, Sufi holy man, poet, and wrestler (?!).

Always a sucker for a good view, I climbed the watchtower, the city walls, and the Islam Khoja minaret, Khiva’s tallest structure.

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Climbing the minaret

The Juma (Friday) mosque is a partially open air affair I’d never really seen the likes of. Fortunately for my aching legs the attached minaret is tilting and therefore closed to visitors.

The only disappointment was the one sight I hit outside the city walls. My guidebook said that the Palace of Nurullabay, aka Isfandiyar, built in the final days of the khanate before Soviet takeover, was included in the city ticket. If it once was, it is no longer. I had no problem paying admission as Uzbekistan is incredibly affordable, but it wasn’t really worth the effort to see mostly unfurnished rooms in a palace built to emulate more western styles. I’d just as soon have spent the time and money at the terrace restaurant drinking $2 beer and sighing over the views.

Lots of tour groups do Khiva in one day. If that’s all you have, be assured you really will see most everything. But I had two full days and nights and I promise the extra time is worth it, if only to catch minaret photos from and in all conceivable angles and lighting.

 

* Rules of the steppe forbade taking the title “Khan” unless you descended from Genghis. Timur did not, but did marry a descendent and take the title “Gurgen,” son-in-law of the Khan in addition to “Amir,” military ruler. 

Cute closets? No–niches where “for sale” slaves were put on display

Outer City Walls

Atop the inner city walls

Khiva’s Juma (Friday) Mosque

Madrassah Rakhim Khan

Madrassah Amin Khan (now a fancy hotel)

Pakhlavan Makhmoud Mausoleum

Pakhlavan Makhmoud Mausoleum Interior

Open Air Throne Room

The original throne is in the Hermitage in St. Petersburg

In chilly winter months the throne could be moved to a cosy courtyard yurt

Tash-Khovli Palace

Khan’s bedroom within the harem

The harem. Slave girls sat in the upper galleries, hoping (or fearing) to catch the eye of the Khan

I Want It All!

It was last winter when my boss first asked if I’d be interested in traveling to Bangkok to be trained as our post’s Equal Employment Opportunity counselor. A topic that interests me and a chance for #yourtaxpayerdollarsatwork to send me to Thailand? I enthusiastically filled in the paperwork.

And then…”due to the government shut down all trainings are postponed until further notice.” Which was a total bummer. But also meant that I was free to go to Astana/Nur-Sultan to work and see more of Kazakhstan.

When they finally reinstated trainings in August, albeit in D.C. instead of Bangkok, I was already scheduled for another Nur-Sultan work trip, so I opted for the September training instead. No sooner had I registered for that then…BOOM! I was offered a totally different training opportunity the exact same week as the EEO training. Training #2 would happen in Bahrain. And I had to say no.

UGH. Sorry to be a common Veruca Salt but…

OK, perspective. No Bahrain or Bangkok is sad. But in just one year I do get D.C., Nur-Sultan (twice), and even Dushanbe.

Instead of focusing on what I can’t do, how about I prioritize what I can do? For me, priorities start with Samarkand.

“Samarkand” sparked my interest in Central Asia when I read an offhand reference to it in a novel, paused, and thought “I don’t actually know where that is.” A few minutes on Google later and I both knew where it was (Uzbekistan) and was ready to go!

But I didn’t go. Those were ancient days of 2012 when all of the ‘Stans had different and intimidating visa requirements and travel logistics seemed daunting for someone like me who’d mostly done European travel. Even the alphabet intimidated me.

Fast forward to 2019 and I’ve had 27 months in Morocco that left me mostly unconcerned about travelling while illiterate. Plus, I’ve learned the cyrillic alphabet (sorta), both of the K’stans now allow visa free travel, Uzbekistan and Tajikistan introduced glitchy but workable e-visas, and Turkmenistan…well, we can’t have everything.

 

 

Don’t let me fool you into think I’ve got it all figured out though. Parts of travel in this region continue to bedevil me. So when a colleague spoke enthusiastically about a travel agency she used, I was quick to get a referral. Someone else managing my point A to point B? Please. A tour guide to provide historical and cultural context? Actually yes. Sure, my favorite tour guide is myself, dramatically reading aloud from a Rick Steves book, but this isn’t Europe! Reading material about Central Asia is scarcer than anywhere else I’ve travelled.

I asked for an itinerary that would take me to:

• Tashkent: the capital of Uzbekistan, and non-negotiable starting point when arriving by air.
• Samarkand/Samarqand: Onetime capital of Tamerlane’s empire.
• Bukhara: Central Asia’s holiest city and home of the infamous bug pit.
• Khiva: Dark history as the home of Central Asia’s largest slave market.

I did have to push back a bit on the original itinerary they prepared which, in an overabundance of concern for my well being or a throwback to days when the Soviets assigned all western visitors a minder, assigned me a tour guide for every waking moment.

We finally settled on an acceptable mix of alone time and tour guide time, all for a friendly price.

Admittedly, it’s all extra easy because #yourtaxpayerdollarsatwork already hauled me as far as Kazakhstan, leaving me free to arrive in Uzbekistan without the jetlag and credit card debt I’d get with a flight from the U.S. Still, I hope someone from the USA reads this and thinks, “I too could travel to Samarkand!”

I finish my two weeks in Nur-Sultan in a couple days, after which I’ll fly to Tashkent via Almaty. From there it’s planes, trains, and automobiles across Uzbekistan.

I’m a little (a lot?) nervous about putting myself in someone else’s travel planning hands, but excited about finally seeing these cities. Wish me luck, watch this space for updates, and look me up if you’re in D.C. in September. I will not be in Bangkok or Bahrain.

Train to Turkistan

Google “Silk Road Tours” and you’ll notice Uzbekistan really has all the good stuff. But Kazakhstan does have one breathtaking monument from those silk road days–the unfinished mausoleum of Khoja Ahmed Yasawi in Turkistan.

Naturally, it’s been on my top list of places to go/things to see ever since I got posted here. The question I’ve been grappling with was how to get there given that I don’t have a car, don’t have a lot of vacation time, and that it’s a 13-18 hour train ride away.

Well I finally got there and I’m going to tell you so much about it and post so many pictures that you will be all Turksitan-ed out.

In Foreign Service most people have their own cars. I know a few people who take the city bus but traveling in shared taxis or minibuses to far flung locales? This isn’t Peace Corps.

Trains are a different story. Even the ambassador occasionally takes trains. In fact, it was while working on travel plans for him that involved an overnight train that my idea of how to visit Turkistan was born. The town itself, I had read, could be seen in a day. And there is an overnight train from Almaty to Turkistan. So what if I took the overnight train on a Friday, spent the day on Saturday, and then took another overnight train back to Almaty? True, I wouldn’t smell very good at the end of this adventure, but otherwise, a perfect plan.

The Adventure Begins

Train travel is so popular that tickets can sell out weeks in advance, which is a bummer for someone like me used to hopping on a Moroccan train with little notice. Maybe without a seat, but still…

So I had to plan ahead and have the consulate travel office book me a ticket (on-site travel agents! I am so spoiled!). Then I asked my locally based colleagues what to expect. “Roaches” was the unexpected answer. WHAT?!

Yep. Long journeys mean hungry people who either bring food along or buy it on board. And where there is food, roaches will follow. Awesome.

Slow Soviet-era train (L) and “Less Slow” Talgo train (R)

Fun fact: there are no “high speed” trains in Kazakhstan–just slow trains and “slightly faster” ones. I spent time on one of each.

On the way there, my travel time was about 13 hours on the newer train (brand name “Talgo”). These trains have a cafe car (I didn’t try it though) and bathrooms that aren’t great but do have toilet paper. You choose between first class compartments with two beds per compartment and middle class compartments with four beds. I was in middle class both ways. There is also a small sink in each compartment. Sheets, pillow, and a hand towel are provided to everyone.

The soviet train took 17.5 hours to make the very same journey in reverse; while I still got sheets and a pillow and hand towel, sinks are only in the bathrooms, which tell a fascinating story of soviet-era industrial design. Everything is made of metal and toilet paper is for capitalists! I read that in soviet trains there’s an even cheaper class ticket called platzkart, where you don’t have compartments, just beds out in the open. The full scoop on trains is well-described on this website so I won’t go on and on but I will say that I’d consider platzkart in the future because if you’re going to be confined with a bunch of people you don’t know, is being in a small compartment of four any better than being in a more open space of 20? As long as you still have a bed?

I don’t think there was a cafe car on the soviet train. However, there is a car attendant who sells a few drinks and snacks. In the morning a woman walked through selling breakfast piroshky and at many stations there are vendors selling food on the platforms.

Everyone’s lifeline is the hot water tank, used for tea, coffee, or instant noodles. I wisely remembered to bring along my own cup so I could buy some instant (pre-sugared. BLECH!) coffee to get through my morning.

Hot water avalable with all the safety standards of Khrushchev’s USSR.

People were very friendly and kind to me, despite the fact that my Russian is still limited to hello (not technically true–“Hello” is really hard to pronounce so I just say “good day), thank you, 1-2-3, yes, no, and my name is…

Key to surviving my two-way overnight train journey was ambien. Key to recovering was ibuprofen. Who knew my body isn’t 23 anymore and can’t easily bounce back from two consecutive nights sleeping on a non-luxury train? My friends Mike and Lia and I have long harbored dreams of completing the Trans-Siberian railway journey but I may need to look into an epidural for that.

The good news is: no roach sightings!

Sunset and Sunrise from the train window

 

ANYHOO, what was it I put myself through all of this to see? The mausoleum of Ahmad Yasawi, the sufi poet who was born and died in what is now Kazakhstan. When he died in 1166 there was a small mausoleum built in his honor. Then Timur (aka Timur the Lame or Tamerlane) came to power as the self-described “sword of Islam,” splitting his time between cementing people into walls and patronizing religion and the arts, and decided to build a much grander structure to honor the man revered as a kind of Muslim saint.

Unfortunately (fortunately for those still uncemented into walls), Timur died in 1405, before building was complete. What we have today is only half-finished, with bits of 15^th century scaffolding still sticking out of the un-tiled side. While it’s a shame we don’t have the whole thing decked out in stunning tilework there’s also something beautiful about its unfinished existence. Approaching it in the very early morning light is highly recommended.

As cool as the unfinished side is, obviously you’re really here for the finished half. It does not disappoint.

There’s a small fee to see the inside of the mausoleum and a couple of nearby structures (an underground mosque, the old hammam), but the outside is really where it’s at and that is always free and open. Since I arrived at 6:15 am, I had the place all to my lonesome for a couple of hours.

Inside the Mausoleum is a Bronze Water Vessel Commissioned by Timur

I was curious about what crowds would eventually gather. After all, this is a holy pilgrimage site for Muslims, a weekend, and the day before the start of Ramadan.

Crowds did come, although nothing too overwhelming. The earliest arrivals clearly came to pray. But soon came tour buses full of adults and school children, and along with them ladies selling cotton candy and men selling camel rides. Visitors seemed to be mostly non-Western tourists from Kazakhstan and parts unknown. I was the only obvious westerner.

A man giving camel rides asked me in English if I wanted a ride. Why is it so obvious? Is it the fleece jacket? Probably I just “look” like I’d speak English somehow.

A high school age girl overheard him and asked, “Are you English?” “American,” I replied. Then came the request for a selfie with me. Third weekend in a row! The same thing happened at tree-planting and Tamgaly.

 

I thought this was a platform for taking picture

Nope! It’s for launching camel rides

I exhausted myself walking around the site and to a nearby mosque that, while not ancient, was quite pretty with a full glass wall I’ve never seen in mosque architecture before. They also had an attached cafeteria. Alas it was still a bit early for lunch.

I walked through the town and pretty much saw all I wanted before eventually heading back to the train station for my return journey.

Many of the train stations in Kazakhstan are from the Tsarist era

Perhaps unsurprisingly given the holiness of the site, the town seemed far more “Muslim” (as I am used to it) than Almaty, Astana, or Karaganda. Of course it’s a smaller town than any of those. Kazakh, rather than Russian, was the dominant language. I saw way more headscarves and far fewer bars which was kind of a bummer since I needed to kill time. It’s so interesting what “counts” when it comes to headscarves and “modest” dress. While lots of women in Turkistan wore headscarves, they were haphazardly tied, showing both hair and neck. Dresses were modest by US standards but ended mid-calf, showing leg. What would be SCANDALOUS in one Muslim culture is perfectly acceptable in this one.

When the train finally pulled into Almaty early Sunday afternoon I felt tired and achy, but accomplished. Where to next?

 

Mosaic of Turkistan, on an Almaty karaoke bar