( sketchy wifi..one hour a day.... here is a part from my travel journal. Yesterday I visited the famous Registen Ensemble in Samarkand...see video I posted earlier this week. And excuse grammar mistakes...)
Back on the road to see some more of the old town of Samarkand, hidden from sight by walls and iron gates. The roads in this part have the medieval plan of a gutter in the center; from each house a gutter drains in it. All is clean, although the roads are in bad repair; potholes and such. But no garbage on the roads and pavements. People are not rich but seem to be better fed and dressed than the ones in Tasjkent.
As we walked the streets we see a mosque, surrounded by tables with food and men and small boys eating. Every table has big bottles of water, pepsi-cola and pots of green tea. Also it holds bread, plates with sugared almonds, raisins, walnuts, radishes, cucumber, fruits, cakes, bowls of yoghurt, some sweet white paste, apricotjam and communal cloths napkins. As I look for someplace to sit, as I think it is a restaurant, men invite us to take a seat. ( much later I realize that I'm the only woman on the square). We sit under a big tree on the square.
Someone goes to the kitchen, in a building next to the mosque, to ask for food for us. And presto, pots of green tea, cups and a dish of plov arrives. Plov is the national dish of rice, saffron, sweet cabbage and raisin. It is served with mutton or beef. We get a plate with two spoons and we 'dig in'. As a vegetarian I eat the plov without meat and it tastes good. I wash all down with green tea. Being a lefthandler, I do eat with my right hand, as it is bad manners to use the left hand which is used only for unclean things.
A man comes to chat with us. He studied in the USA and travels all over the world. I ask about work, schooling and such. Schooling is free till university. All can go if they want. There are many men, he mentions 8 million, working in Russia.
We leave and want to pay, but they say we are their guests. I donate some money in the box for the poor and we say Salaam Aleikum with our hands on the heart to every one.
After this surprising lunch on to Siab bazaar. It is fascinating to see this again. Cloth sacs of exotic spices, fruit stalls piled high with apples, grapes. Stalls with various eggs, small, mottled, green, brown and white. Stalls with tiny balls made of milk, different cheeses, butter, meat and so on. Men and wonen sell their wares. I buy a typical and delightful round bread- the traditional Samarkand unleavened non, radishes and tomatoes. Who needs a language guide? Pointing and holding fingers up....
The women vendors and men have seperate rows where they vend all. Though I don't speak the language, I can understand some of the jokes they make; a naughty lot. They are dressed in loud colors, long trousers and dresses, headscarves and glitters on their clothes.
And a walk in the old town behind the walls on the other side of the Registan square. Very nice all. After a rest on a bench, contemplating, admiring the beautiful Registan Ensemble opposite, it is getting dark early, so we go back to the hotel. A long and fruitful day it was.
Tomorrow I move on, with a slow train back to Tasjkent and from Tasjkent to the Fergana valley on the same day.
In my cup: lots of green tea.
