Bukhara
The first task was to get from Khiva to Bukhara. This has to be done from Urgench. If you have time, you can spend a great deal of a day driving out to some desert sites like abandoned fortresses and 2,000 year old ghost towns, but 14 days isn't enough (someone please find me a job with European amounts of vacation!). We had originally considered spending the night at a Yurt encampment in the Kyzyl Kum desert (a real name, not a Snoop Dogg creation)- this can usually be arranged from Bukhara or Khiva, along with transport to the site via camel, but in the winter the Nomads had apparently packed up and moved to a warmer location. So no Yurts.
One last glance at Misha the Camel
I think we were about one month off of the best time to visit. Summer in the Kara and Kyzyl Kum can reach 50 degrees celsius, so its best to come in Spring or early Fall.
We'd done a plane, we'd done a Taxi, so we decided to try our hand at a bus.
People in Uzbekistan are pathologically honest and friendly- but this does not apply to categories of people that seem to be villains everywhere; Frontier Guards, Taxi Drivers (except in NYC), and so on. When you arrive in Urgench, Taxi drivers will offer to take you to Bukhara for $50, and tell you that there are no buses. This is not the case. A bus ticket costs around $7, and there are multiple buses. A taxi ride to Bukhara shouldn't cost more than $16 anyway.
The bus, however, is long and less than entirely comfortable. They also have no bathrooms, so ladies be forewarned.
The route travels south, along the Amu Darya for a while, near the border of Turmenistan.
the bridge on the Amu Darya- be very careful shooting bridges, the cops get nervous.
The bus was full of some interesting individuals, but I don't have any shots, unfortunately. At this point, I was still getting the feel of when it is appropriate to shoot someone or not, and I very much want to avoid beng an asinine tourist (I'm sure you have all experienced the same issues).
There was a woman who looked just like Teresa Salgueiro from Madredeus (man, those Portuguese left monuments everywhere, if you know what I mean.) There was also a dude that was a dead ringer for Crispin Glover. In fact, he may have been Crispin Glover, I wouldn't put it past him.
Before starting a journey, a traditional Muslim practice is to ask for God's blessing and safe protection. This is done by placing your hands together, palms up (as if you were attempting to catch a pool of water from a faucet), then running them over your face, as if splashing imaginary water on yourself. I saw this done before train journeys, meals, and among friends before departing. Right before we left, the man in the seat opposite me was teaching his baby son to do this, and guiding his hands through the appropriate motions. I wish I had snapped it, then again, I am glad I did not. The most remarkeable images are the ones that aren't captured.
About 4 hours into the journey, the men of the bus staged a sort of "pee mutiny", and when the bus stopped for a document check, they all (30 or so of them) fled the vehicle and relieved themselves in a field. I joined them. My wife did not (I don't know how those ladies managed!).
I'm getting a little bit talky, eh? How about some photos?
After 9 hours, we arrived in the dead of night at Bukhara, found the hotel that we had planned to stay in all locked up (we never made reservations anywhere) and went down the street to the Grand Nodirbek Hotel. $20 a night (breakfast included)- a real steal. This was one of the best places we stayed in all Uzbekistan. Friendly and helpful staff, cheap rates, and well placed about 20 feet from the Lyub-i-Hauz, tone of the centers of Bukhara.
The outside, like all buildings in Bukhara, is rather non-descript. But inside your rooms open up onto a lovely and peaceful courtyard.
Grand Nodirbek Hotel Courtyard
We were the only foriegners staying there.
Half-Awake Portuguese Lady
The desk attendants speak English of varying degrees, the most able being the young Student Fahreddin. Fahreddin is witty, intelligent, studies English at the unviersity, and is looking for a nice girl.
Hey Ladies!
Fahreddin will take care of all your needs. If you need to get a guide, find out information about some aspect of the town, find the old synagogue, or talk about how much he loves Santa Claus (odd, for a muslim) talk to Fahreddin.
There are a great deal of pools and canals all throughout Bukhara. This led the russians to describe it, not as the "Venice of the East" (how many Venices are there, after all?) but as "mightily afflicted by pestilence, and plague." The 700 or so pools, once used for drinking, washing, sewage, and disposal of offal and deceased family pets, were mainly filled in by the Soviets, but the ones tha remain have been cleaned up and are now pleasant and fresh, and home only to Ducks. Each Mahalla (residential district, also community association) had its own Hauz which all the houses faced onto. The Lyub-i-Hauz is surrounded by Medressahs and Mosques, as well as Chaikhanas, tea houses where one sits outdoors on a giant "bed-like" structure.
The Lyub-i-Hauz at dawn
the Nodirbek Khanaka (monestary) on the west side of the pond
On the opposite side of the pool from the Khanaka is a Madrassah, also built by Nodirbek (or Nadir Beg), the vizier of the Emir of Bukhara at the time (1622). It was originally intended to be a Caravanserai, or sort of Hostel for travelling merchants, wich would have generated a nice bit of income for the vizier. But one day the Sultan paid a suprise visit as the building was near completion, and remarked "Nadir Beg, what a wonderful demonstration of charity and piety, I am so glad that you hv build a Madrassah for the edification of the people of Bukhara." Chagrined, but unable to gainsay the Emir's word, the vizier was forced to operate it as a religious school, at a substantial cost to himself.
A small amount of revenge was obtained by him when he designed the fresco for the front of the Madrassah, it contains a very turkic (indeed, almost pagan), but not very islamic, depiction of a Sun God like figure. This is straight out of turkic mythology. I am sure the imams were not amused.
today the madrassah hosts a number of craft shops.
Old men playing backgammon. Hey, nice hat!
For those of you who would like to have your picture taken astride a camel, but were put off in Khiva by Misha's unfortunate condition, you can climb atop one of the cheesy statues of camels that adorn the Hauz.
The auther fulfills his life long ambition to ride a camel while wearing a sheepskin hat.
the hatmakers bazaar, wherein the author purchased the aforementioned hat
Bazaars of Bukhara
One note about Bazaars, all over Uzbekistan. The main reason we had chosen U-stan as a destination was because of its placement on the Silk Road, and the former fame of the market in Samarkand. Honestly, Samrkand is a sort of magical word, for me at least, and I had always wanted to see it.
But the bazaars of yesterday no longer exist. This is not to say that they do not have bazaars, they do. And they are, to the first time experiencer of a bazaar, quite impressive- a cacophany of sights, sounds, smells, etc.
Fruit at the farmers Bazaar in Bukhara
Farmers still bring in all manner of produce from the countryside, and neighboring countries.
Cotton for sale
Melons trucked in from the Fergana valley
Textiles are a riot of color
Herbal Tea
A guy teaching a cat to walk on its hind legs
The Bazaar in Bukhara wasn't too bad (the Bazaar in Samarkand was dissapointing). But the Bazaars of Uzbekistan do not hold a candle to the Souqs of Marrakesh, or the covered bazaars of Istanbul. If you are expecting these, you will be dissapointed.
But there are plenty of other reasons to visit. The bazaar is a "real" bazaar in that it is where the locals shop, and there are very few tourists about. There are almsot no visitors at all, and scams are refreshingly rare, and the people genuinely friendly. It's not Turkey- then again, it's not Turkey, so there you are.
Bukhara is a good deal less well preserved than Khiva, but its also a great deal more lively. Whereas one gets the impression that Khiva is a city under glass (think "Colonial Williamsburg, for US residents) Bukhara is a living, breathing city. It's also quite large, being the third in the country after Tashkent and Samarqand, with about 250,000 inhabitants.
Bukharan Jews
The first Jews arrived in Central Asia in the 7th century BC, during the period of the Babylonian captivity. Though Jews were once quite numerous in Central Asia, they were cut off from Ashkenazi (European) and Sephardi (Ibero-Mediteranean) Jewry for over 2,000 years, and developed their own religious practices and liturgical language. The language, Bukhori, was a tajik-persian dialect that was written with Hebrew characters much the way it was done with Yiddish in Central Europe.
Most Jews in Uzbekistan have taken advantage of the opportunity to emmigrate to a much more prosperous Israel following the end of the Union in 1991, but about 80 families still live in Bukhara. The girl who cooks at the Nodirbek hotel offered to lead us to the Synagogue through Bukhara's windy streets- which was lucky, as we never would have found it ourselves.
We walked south of the Nodirbek, and ultimately to a small, half deserted fruit Bazaar.
If you make it to this Bazaar, go through the small door in the rear right corner. then hang a left, the Synagogue should be close by.
Bukharan Door Latch
After a few doors, you should come across the Synagogue, which has a sign in Uzbek, Hebrew, Bukhori, English and, of course, Russian.
Synagogue Interior
The caretaker is a 65 year old (or thereabouts) rabbi. Doesn't look much like the traditional picture of a Rabbi (no beard), but he has outstanding eyebrows. Anyone famous who comes to Bukhara apparently stops here, as there are pictures of Madeline Albright and Hilary Clinton on the walls (that girl gets around!)
Forlorn Donkey near the Synagogue
Gaukushan Complex
From the Synagogue, one can wind back to the Lyub-i-Hauz square, and then head west along the main road that forms the south side of the square. You will pass the covered structure that once housed the Money Changers Bazaar- now a spot to buy curios and carpets.
Rugs at the Money Changers Bazaar
The famous "Bukhara Rugs" are actually Turkmen designs. As Bukhara is close to the border with Turkmenistan, there are a lot of the former "man stealing turcoman" types about (they were notorious slavers).
Money Changers Bazaar, viewed from the West
As you reach the end of the square beyond the Money Changers Bazaar, you will pass a statue of the controversial Faizullah Kodjaev, who was born in Bukhara. First head of the Bukhara soviet from 1923, He fought during the Russian revolution in Central Asia and narrowly escaped assasination by the basmachi leader Enver Pasha (the same one from Turkey). He eventually clashed with Stalin (a particularly unhealthy idea) over economic policies that he thought were bad for the people of Turkestan. His struggles against Moscow lead centralization and his political slogans, such as "You cannot eat cotton" led to his execution in 1938 as a trotskyite wrecker and a rightist. He was officially rehabilitated in 1966, but remains an ambiguous figure for Uzbek historiography. Some see him as a traitor who sold out Bukhara to the Soviets, others as an idealist who fought for a modern and independent Turkestan.
Finally one passes the art museum, and reaches the Gaukeshan Maddrassah complex.
Gaukeshan complex
For an interesting view of this Square, take a look at a cool pano set up shot by someone else.
Gaukeshan Minaret detail
This complex is kind of nice. Not on the level of a lot of other stuff in Bukhara, but it does have one very interesting place- on the south side of the square is an old caravanserai that hosts, in addition to the usual knick knack sellers, it is also host to the Bukhara Center for the Development of Creative photography.
The center, with very meager resources, maintains a gallery, does workshops, and hosts exhibitions of local and visiting photograpgers. As I was perusing their stuff (I eventually bought three photographs for $20) I met the head of the center, Shavkat Boltaev. An Iranian who speaks only Russian , Uzbek, and Tajik, he was quite an interesting fellow. We were soon joined by Zilola Saidova, a charming woman who spoke perfect unaccented mid-American English, which she learned as an exchange student in Indiana.
Zilola Saidova
She shot one of the three photos that I bought prints of.
the Author chills with other photogs
Here are some examples of the work of the three photographers I talked to.
photos by shavkat Boltaev
photo by Muiddin Juraev
photo bu Zilola Saidova
Zilola invited me back the next day for an exhibition opening.
When we arrived for the exhibition, we discovered a great deal of dancing and tea flowing everywhere. At one point a woman from Uzbek Television and her Camera crew acosted me and fired of rapid questions in Russian. Zilola intepreted for me. Basically I talked about how great my trip was, and how much I loved their work (both statements true).
After the exhibiton was over and everyone had gone home, we hung around with them in their staff room, with a couple of students, for about 4 hours, drinking Tea and shooting the breeze. They fed us, of course. I think Uzbek people are constitutionally unable to have someone in their place of work or home without attempting to stuff them with food.
They have the most extensive library of photobooks in Uzbekistan (about 35 of them) which folks can come and read. They attempt to do educational outreach, but don't have a lot of cameras, so that's limited. Digital technology was almost totally unknown to them- there is no DSL in all of Uzbekistan (dial-up only) and the instruments were basically out of their reach financially- they survive on what the gallery can sell, and some grants from folks like the Soros foundation. All their equipment is totally manual old Canons, and some Zenit and Kiev gear, of course.
We talked about different photographers, and the art in general, and I discovered that they had never heard of Weegee. Since Fedex operates in U-stan, I am going to fedex them a Weegee photo book for their library.
They are really lovely people. They said that they would love to meet photographers from other countries, so if you are in Bukhara, stop by. You will get great Tea, and lovely conversation. Aslo, Uzbeks tend to press gifts into your hands as you are leaving the house, which you can't refuse. In this case it was a clay figurine of Nasreddin Hodja. Terribly hospitable.
The first task was to get from Khiva to Bukhara. This has to be done from Urgench. If you have time, you can spend a great deal of a day driving out to some desert sites like abandoned fortresses and 2,000 year old ghost towns, but 14 days isn't enough (someone please find me a job with European amounts of vacation!). We had originally considered spending the night at a Yurt encampment in the Kyzyl Kum desert (a real name, not a Snoop Dogg creation)- this can usually be arranged from Bukhara or Khiva, along with transport to the site via camel, but in the winter the Nomads had apparently packed up and moved to a warmer location. So no Yurts.
One last glance at Misha the Camel
I think we were about one month off of the best time to visit. Summer in the Kara and Kyzyl Kum can reach 50 degrees celsius, so its best to come in Spring or early Fall.
We'd done a plane, we'd done a Taxi, so we decided to try our hand at a bus.
People in Uzbekistan are pathologically honest and friendly- but this does not apply to categories of people that seem to be villains everywhere; Frontier Guards, Taxi Drivers (except in NYC), and so on. When you arrive in Urgench, Taxi drivers will offer to take you to Bukhara for $50, and tell you that there are no buses. This is not the case. A bus ticket costs around $7, and there are multiple buses. A taxi ride to Bukhara shouldn't cost more than $16 anyway.
The bus, however, is long and less than entirely comfortable. They also have no bathrooms, so ladies be forewarned.
The route travels south, along the Amu Darya for a while, near the border of Turmenistan.
the bridge on the Amu Darya- be very careful shooting bridges, the cops get nervous.
The bus was full of some interesting individuals, but I don't have any shots, unfortunately. At this point, I was still getting the feel of when it is appropriate to shoot someone or not, and I very much want to avoid beng an asinine tourist (I'm sure you have all experienced the same issues).
There was a woman who looked just like Teresa Salgueiro from Madredeus (man, those Portuguese left monuments everywhere, if you know what I mean.) There was also a dude that was a dead ringer for Crispin Glover. In fact, he may have been Crispin Glover, I wouldn't put it past him.
Before starting a journey, a traditional Muslim practice is to ask for God's blessing and safe protection. This is done by placing your hands together, palms up (as if you were attempting to catch a pool of water from a faucet), then running them over your face, as if splashing imaginary water on yourself. I saw this done before train journeys, meals, and among friends before departing. Right before we left, the man in the seat opposite me was teaching his baby son to do this, and guiding his hands through the appropriate motions. I wish I had snapped it, then again, I am glad I did not. The most remarkeable images are the ones that aren't captured.
About 4 hours into the journey, the men of the bus staged a sort of "pee mutiny", and when the bus stopped for a document check, they all (30 or so of them) fled the vehicle and relieved themselves in a field. I joined them. My wife did not (I don't know how those ladies managed!).
I'm getting a little bit talky, eh? How about some photos?
After 9 hours, we arrived in the dead of night at Bukhara, found the hotel that we had planned to stay in all locked up (we never made reservations anywhere) and went down the street to the Grand Nodirbek Hotel. $20 a night (breakfast included)- a real steal. This was one of the best places we stayed in all Uzbekistan. Friendly and helpful staff, cheap rates, and well placed about 20 feet from the Lyub-i-Hauz, tone of the centers of Bukhara.
The outside, like all buildings in Bukhara, is rather non-descript. But inside your rooms open up onto a lovely and peaceful courtyard.
Grand Nodirbek Hotel Courtyard
We were the only foriegners staying there.
Half-Awake Portuguese Lady
The desk attendants speak English of varying degrees, the most able being the young Student Fahreddin. Fahreddin is witty, intelligent, studies English at the unviersity, and is looking for a nice girl.
Hey Ladies!
Fahreddin will take care of all your needs. If you need to get a guide, find out information about some aspect of the town, find the old synagogue, or talk about how much he loves Santa Claus (odd, for a muslim) talk to Fahreddin.
There are a great deal of pools and canals all throughout Bukhara. This led the russians to describe it, not as the "Venice of the East" (how many Venices are there, after all?) but as "mightily afflicted by pestilence, and plague." The 700 or so pools, once used for drinking, washing, sewage, and disposal of offal and deceased family pets, were mainly filled in by the Soviets, but the ones tha remain have been cleaned up and are now pleasant and fresh, and home only to Ducks. Each Mahalla (residential district, also community association) had its own Hauz which all the houses faced onto. The Lyub-i-Hauz is surrounded by Medressahs and Mosques, as well as Chaikhanas, tea houses where one sits outdoors on a giant "bed-like" structure.
The Lyub-i-Hauz at dawn
the Nodirbek Khanaka (monestary) on the west side of the pond
On the opposite side of the pool from the Khanaka is a Madrassah, also built by Nodirbek (or Nadir Beg), the vizier of the Emir of Bukhara at the time (1622). It was originally intended to be a Caravanserai, or sort of Hostel for travelling merchants, wich would have generated a nice bit of income for the vizier. But one day the Sultan paid a suprise visit as the building was near completion, and remarked "Nadir Beg, what a wonderful demonstration of charity and piety, I am so glad that you hv build a Madrassah for the edification of the people of Bukhara." Chagrined, but unable to gainsay the Emir's word, the vizier was forced to operate it as a religious school, at a substantial cost to himself.
A small amount of revenge was obtained by him when he designed the fresco for the front of the Madrassah, it contains a very turkic (indeed, almost pagan), but not very islamic, depiction of a Sun God like figure. This is straight out of turkic mythology. I am sure the imams were not amused.
today the madrassah hosts a number of craft shops.
Old men playing backgammon. Hey, nice hat!
For those of you who would like to have your picture taken astride a camel, but were put off in Khiva by Misha's unfortunate condition, you can climb atop one of the cheesy statues of camels that adorn the Hauz.
The auther fulfills his life long ambition to ride a camel while wearing a sheepskin hat.
the hatmakers bazaar, wherein the author purchased the aforementioned hat
Bazaars of Bukhara
One note about Bazaars, all over Uzbekistan. The main reason we had chosen U-stan as a destination was because of its placement on the Silk Road, and the former fame of the market in Samarkand. Honestly, Samrkand is a sort of magical word, for me at least, and I had always wanted to see it.
But the bazaars of yesterday no longer exist. This is not to say that they do not have bazaars, they do. And they are, to the first time experiencer of a bazaar, quite impressive- a cacophany of sights, sounds, smells, etc.
Fruit at the farmers Bazaar in Bukhara
Farmers still bring in all manner of produce from the countryside, and neighboring countries.
Cotton for sale
Melons trucked in from the Fergana valley
Textiles are a riot of color
Herbal Tea
A guy teaching a cat to walk on its hind legs
The Bazaar in Bukhara wasn't too bad (the Bazaar in Samarkand was dissapointing). But the Bazaars of Uzbekistan do not hold a candle to the Souqs of Marrakesh, or the covered bazaars of Istanbul. If you are expecting these, you will be dissapointed.
But there are plenty of other reasons to visit. The bazaar is a "real" bazaar in that it is where the locals shop, and there are very few tourists about. There are almsot no visitors at all, and scams are refreshingly rare, and the people genuinely friendly. It's not Turkey- then again, it's not Turkey, so there you are.
Bukhara is a good deal less well preserved than Khiva, but its also a great deal more lively. Whereas one gets the impression that Khiva is a city under glass (think "Colonial Williamsburg, for US residents) Bukhara is a living, breathing city. It's also quite large, being the third in the country after Tashkent and Samarqand, with about 250,000 inhabitants.
Bukharan Jews
The first Jews arrived in Central Asia in the 7th century BC, during the period of the Babylonian captivity. Though Jews were once quite numerous in Central Asia, they were cut off from Ashkenazi (European) and Sephardi (Ibero-Mediteranean) Jewry for over 2,000 years, and developed their own religious practices and liturgical language. The language, Bukhori, was a tajik-persian dialect that was written with Hebrew characters much the way it was done with Yiddish in Central Europe.
Most Jews in Uzbekistan have taken advantage of the opportunity to emmigrate to a much more prosperous Israel following the end of the Union in 1991, but about 80 families still live in Bukhara. The girl who cooks at the Nodirbek hotel offered to lead us to the Synagogue through Bukhara's windy streets- which was lucky, as we never would have found it ourselves.
We walked south of the Nodirbek, and ultimately to a small, half deserted fruit Bazaar.
If you make it to this Bazaar, go through the small door in the rear right corner. then hang a left, the Synagogue should be close by.
Bukharan Door Latch
After a few doors, you should come across the Synagogue, which has a sign in Uzbek, Hebrew, Bukhori, English and, of course, Russian.
Synagogue Interior
The caretaker is a 65 year old (or thereabouts) rabbi. Doesn't look much like the traditional picture of a Rabbi (no beard), but he has outstanding eyebrows. Anyone famous who comes to Bukhara apparently stops here, as there are pictures of Madeline Albright and Hilary Clinton on the walls (that girl gets around!)
Forlorn Donkey near the Synagogue
Gaukushan Complex
From the Synagogue, one can wind back to the Lyub-i-Hauz square, and then head west along the main road that forms the south side of the square. You will pass the covered structure that once housed the Money Changers Bazaar- now a spot to buy curios and carpets.
Rugs at the Money Changers Bazaar
The famous "Bukhara Rugs" are actually Turkmen designs. As Bukhara is close to the border with Turkmenistan, there are a lot of the former "man stealing turcoman" types about (they were notorious slavers).
Money Changers Bazaar, viewed from the West
As you reach the end of the square beyond the Money Changers Bazaar, you will pass a statue of the controversial Faizullah Kodjaev, who was born in Bukhara. First head of the Bukhara soviet from 1923, He fought during the Russian revolution in Central Asia and narrowly escaped assasination by the basmachi leader Enver Pasha (the same one from Turkey). He eventually clashed with Stalin (a particularly unhealthy idea) over economic policies that he thought were bad for the people of Turkestan. His struggles against Moscow lead centralization and his political slogans, such as "You cannot eat cotton" led to his execution in 1938 as a trotskyite wrecker and a rightist. He was officially rehabilitated in 1966, but remains an ambiguous figure for Uzbek historiography. Some see him as a traitor who sold out Bukhara to the Soviets, others as an idealist who fought for a modern and independent Turkestan.
Finally one passes the art museum, and reaches the Gaukeshan Maddrassah complex.
Gaukeshan complex
For an interesting view of this Square, take a look at a cool pano set up shot by someone else.
Gaukeshan Minaret detail
This complex is kind of nice. Not on the level of a lot of other stuff in Bukhara, but it does have one very interesting place- on the south side of the square is an old caravanserai that hosts, in addition to the usual knick knack sellers, it is also host to the Bukhara Center for the Development of Creative photography.
The center, with very meager resources, maintains a gallery, does workshops, and hosts exhibitions of local and visiting photograpgers. As I was perusing their stuff (I eventually bought three photographs for $20) I met the head of the center, Shavkat Boltaev. An Iranian who speaks only Russian , Uzbek, and Tajik, he was quite an interesting fellow. We were soon joined by Zilola Saidova, a charming woman who spoke perfect unaccented mid-American English, which she learned as an exchange student in Indiana.
Zilola Saidova
She shot one of the three photos that I bought prints of.
the Author chills with other photogs
Here are some examples of the work of the three photographers I talked to.
photos by shavkat Boltaev
photo by Muiddin Juraev
photo bu Zilola Saidova
Zilola invited me back the next day for an exhibition opening.
When we arrived for the exhibition, we discovered a great deal of dancing and tea flowing everywhere. At one point a woman from Uzbek Television and her Camera crew acosted me and fired of rapid questions in Russian. Zilola intepreted for me. Basically I talked about how great my trip was, and how much I loved their work (both statements true).
After the exhibiton was over and everyone had gone home, we hung around with them in their staff room, with a couple of students, for about 4 hours, drinking Tea and shooting the breeze. They fed us, of course. I think Uzbek people are constitutionally unable to have someone in their place of work or home without attempting to stuff them with food.
They have the most extensive library of photobooks in Uzbekistan (about 35 of them) which folks can come and read. They attempt to do educational outreach, but don't have a lot of cameras, so that's limited. Digital technology was almost totally unknown to them- there is no DSL in all of Uzbekistan (dial-up only) and the instruments were basically out of their reach financially- they survive on what the gallery can sell, and some grants from folks like the Soros foundation. All their equipment is totally manual old Canons, and some Zenit and Kiev gear, of course.
We talked about different photographers, and the art in general, and I discovered that they had never heard of Weegee. Since Fedex operates in U-stan, I am going to fedex them a Weegee photo book for their library.
They are really lovely people. They said that they would love to meet photographers from other countries, so if you are in Bukhara, stop by. You will get great Tea, and lovely conversation. Aslo, Uzbeks tend to press gifts into your hands as you are leaving the house, which you can't refuse. In this case it was a clay figurine of Nasreddin Hodja. Terribly hospitable.
posted by Justiceiro at 9:33 AM
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