Bukhara Walk

Oct. 18, 2023- Bukhara walk The glitch of this morning was that the charger to my phone is dead. I borrowed one and Yura is on the hunt for a replacement. Also, David forgot to bring Systane eye drops for dry eye (Yes, Phil. I couldn’t believe it either). Yura had printed out in Farsi what we should ask for at the pharmacy, but we hadn’t gotten to one yet. This morning, Yura showed up with drops that actually work quite well. The talk at breakfast was comparison of water pressure and hot water. Ours was fine, but many didn’t figure out that the hot and cold direction for the spigot is opposite what we’re used to. The New Yorkers aren’t exactly cliquish, but they make it clear they want to eat together with “their group.” They were foiled this morning by the matron in charge of the breakfast room. You sat where she told you to and if a spouse came later, you ate apart. We learned some of what Yura carries in his backpack. A first aid kit. The fittest and least likely person in our group tripped over steps protruding onto a sidewalk. She had two nasty cuts that Yura tended to on the spot. Luckily the streets are kept clean. We all volunteered what antibiotics we had, but the doctor won. We have a medical psychiatrist among us. What’s a day without a madrassah? The first one was 403 years old. The best part of it was the friendly puppy who shared it’s belly with anyone who wanted to rub it. The other madrassah, citadel, and mausoleum we saw had more tile and less adorable attractions. We walked to the Jewish area, which was around the corner from our hotel, and were met by Avram, the man in charge since the rabbi died three months ago. Jews have been here for 1200 years. He proudly showed us one of three Torahs. It was 1,000 years old and came to Bukhara by way of Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Turkey, and Tashkent. Now 15-20 people come on Shabbat, 50 for high holidays. The Jewish day school had 150 pupils, but now is an international school with only a few Jewish students. Community relations have always been open and welcoming. The building itself was built by a Muslim and is in the Sephardic tradition. There had been an Askenazi synagogue, but it closed when the Poles left for Israel or Poland after WWII. Avram didn’t understand Hebrew or Hebrew terms like “ner Tamid,” but chanted beautifully from the prayer book. We all joined at the end singing “Oseh Shalom.” What a relief! No plov, kebab, or stew for lunch. Soup is de rigor and today’s was their version of garbage soup. All the leftovers were dumped into a pot with a touch of lemon and sprinkle of magic spices. Our main was what looked like a large won ton filled with meat and vegetables. It was served with yogurt instead of soy sauce, and the translation worked. There was a visit to a combined madrassah/mosque after lunch, but we opted for rest. We have found the cure for insomnia….exhaustion. We napped then set out for dinner and shopping. We knew what we wanted to buy and thought everyone bargained. We made our selection and I began bartering. I wasn’t getting good results when I was handed a pad of paper. I thought we’d haggle in writing so other customers wouldn’t know my “special price.” I got nowhere fast. David finally realized there was no moving them on price and the paper was for me to write the name I wanted engraved on the object. We paid in full. The sun had set. Lights came on giving a subtle glow to the walkways, trees, and pond. Local families socialized and mingled with tourists while listening to the high pitched thrum of Uzbek guitars. We haven’t run into cobblestone streets or walkways. It’s all tiled or paved. Such a relief except for protruding steps, that is. Dinner was on our own. We chose “Waffles and Ice Cream”. It’s far superior to our chicken and waffles. We stopped at the hotel desk to pick up the new charger Yura left and to retrieve our laundry. The hotel service was reasonable, the sun shone to speed the drying, and we once again have clean undies. You know how I hate to hand wash. BTW, we are the oldest group Yura has escorted. No one is under 70. Tomorrow we travel to a village for “A Day in the Life” where we help a family with chores and they feed us lunch. We may tend animals or pick cotton. Who knows? Toby