Uzbekistan

Sorry it took so long to get these up but I was having some problems uploading onto my blog. Anyhow, these are a few of hundreds of pictures that we took during our family trip to Uzbekistan. For those who don't know, the reason we traveled to what would appear to be an unstable part of the world is because my family emigrated from Tashkent (cap. of Uzbekistan) in 1978. As Jews, they were allowed to leave the Soviet Union and my mom jumped at the chance, pulling out my father, her parents and sister. Now, almost 30 years later, my parents have brought every relative we had in Tashkent to Miami. This was their first trip back (and so my first trip at all) to their motherland. I have to say that, despite the devastating poverty, people manage to be happier than in America where we are inundated with money, stuff, food, homes and luxuries. There is an openness unmatched by anything I have ever had the pleasure of experiencing. Currently, Uzbekistan has an 80% unemployment rate, causing many Uzbeks to travel to Russia to support their families. Many of them come to Moscow, where they work like slaves, in inhuman conditions for small salaries, all of which they send back home to support their families. They mostly work in markets and construction sites, doing jobs and working hours that no Russian (let alone Muscovite) would ever consider for that kind of pay.

Nevertheless, I felt at home in Uzbekistan...a country full of culture (Russian and Muslim alike), marked by political and economic strife and, of course, breathtaking architecture and amazing food.

[For some basic info about Uzbekistan: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Uzbekistan]

(These pictures are terribly out of order so bare with me!)

Me, my parents, brother (Andrew) and nephew (Sasha) in front of Tashkent's Navoi Theatre. We were so desperate to see the inside of the theatre (which truly is beautiful) that we sat through 15 minutes of an ill-coordinated Korean Fashion Show, where they showcased the ancient wardrobes of the nobility to modern club music...awful.

These are some kids I photographed in the 'Old City' portion of Tashkent. It is a neighborhood that has stayed largely unchanged in the last 200 years. The kids were so excited to be photographed that the little girl in the center even put on sunglasses and makeup.

An old man of unidentifiable heritage/nationality took to telling me the story of his life in an unidentifiable language in front of the oldest mosque in Tashkent which is located inside of the ‘Old City’.


This is the Registan in Samarkand (one of Uzbekistan's biggest cities). The Registan used to be the central square of the city where the public would gather for various occasions. In the 15th and then 17th centuries, two additional segments were constructed as Muslim learning institutions (Madrassah).

The Registan in Samarkand.

We drove (us five and our driver Dilshod in a small car) for more than an hour to some fresh water reservoir in the mountains. The mountains were breathtaking but the water was cold and dirty and the shore, rocky. Luckily, there was a resort there so we lounged around by the pool all day with an amazing view of the mountains.

We flew for one day to the city of Hiva (Khiva), one of the ancient capitals of the region. It is more than 2500 years old and is encased by walls on all sides--effectively separating this authentic part of the city from the of the modern city. Too much history and information to write it out here, but if you are interested, you can check it out at: http://www.advantour.com/uzbekistan/khiva.htm

In Hiva we were graciously cared for by a local hotel owner, who, for a small fee, fed us like royalty and then gave us pillows to lie around on the floor before going back out to continue our tour in the 100+ degree air.

Sasha sports his new 'tubiteika' (skullcap), a part of the traditional Uzbek attire, in Hiva.

Andrew, Papa and I reflected in the deep depths of a water-well in Hiva.

Back in Tashkent, we visited the 'dacha' (summerhouse) of one of my dad's childhood friends. Sasha and I are standing surrounded by plum trees…I realized that for true happiness I will have to live in such a place where I can walk into the yard and pick plums off my own plum-bearing trees.

The following six pictures are also in the 'Old City' in Tashkent.

Old Market

Little boy with his praying grandfather (or so I assume) beg in front of the market.

My unidentifiable friend mentioned above.

Little girl whose parents work in the Old Market.

I was walking around in some neighborhood and came upon children (who were more than happy to be photographed) washing their car.