Stars over Uzbekistan

Cast adrift to seek their fortunes after the break-up of the Soviet Union, a handful of Central Asian nations are still enticingly exotic. They are unexplored treasure houses, says THOMAS E. KING.

WHEN the Soviet Union disintegrated a few years ago, a handful of far-flung republics in Central Asia were cast adrift to seek their fortunes in a rapidly changing world. Independent at last, after many decades of authoritarian rule centralised from distant Moscow, were Kazakhstan, Kyrgystan, Tajikistan, Turkmenistan and Uzbekistan.

To most people, these difficult names are at best little more than true tongue-twisters or perhaps clues in complex crossword puzzles. To the hale and hearty traveller looking for new horizons, however, these five nations, north of Afghanistan and Iran and loosely linked through their association in the Commonwealth of Independent States, are an enticingly exotic, but still little visited, region of the world.

They were not always off the beaten track as Central Asia, then collectively known as "Turkistan", was at the heart of the Silk Road, the fabled trade route between East and West. In fact, 600 years ago, camel caravans were a frequent sight on the overland track which linked Beijing and Istanbul.

Even though school days have long passed, I still remember lessons about Marco Polo and his many exploits. The most famous of all medieval adventurers who ventured along the fabled path, the intrepid Venetian was among the first Europeans to probe Asia's treasure houses. Slowly travelling through the vast Mongol Empire that embraced Central Asia, he returned to Venice with fabulous tales of untold wealth and astonishing geographical facts which were recounted in one of the first travel books ever published. Even when the 13th Century explorer visited Samarkand, this prominent city - on yesterday's Silk Road and in today's Uzbekistan - was already over 1,800 years old. (The city of 4,50,000 officially celebrated its 2,500th anniversary in 1970 although archaeologists have confirmed that it dates back much beyond this, perhaps even to the Bronze Age.)

Around 1270 when Marco Polo arrived, he found "a very large and splendid city". On the day my wife and I arrived one August day we found the temperature nudging 40: C.

Some 700 odd years have made little difference in many ways. When we reached the heart of the city, we were completely awed by the architectural spectacle which has since evolved in this "sandy place", as its name translates. Of interest here is a trio of elaborately decorated religious buildings like no other anywhere else in the world.

None of them were around when Marco Polo was around although the first of the structures is no newcomer on the scene having been erected, our pleasant Russian-accented English-speaking guide said, between 1417 and 1420. It, like the other two, is a madrassah or a medieval Muslim academy.

The most striking aspect of these three ancient buildings, apart from their size, is their intricate Persian influenced ornamentation emphasised by beautiful multi-coloured geometric mosaic work that spans from massive bases to the tops of solid,

33 m high minarets.

The central madrassah has a mosque attached. The colour of the dome is a striking greenish-blue turquoise which contrasts nicely with the gold tiles used on the facade-like soaring portals of what is considered the most magnificent of all medieval monuments in Samarkand.

The sun sets late in mid-summer but the wait is well worth the effort. By dusk, the sting of the sun has gone and so have the few tourists who have wandered around the elegance of Registan Square looking at the delicate designs here and bargaining with the few shopkeepers there.

Twilight time in the courtyard is nothing short of magic as the cool of the evening refreshes the body and silhouettes of great domes and thick cupolas against the vivid colours of a Central Asian sky at dusk stimulate the mind.

Far overhead, the stars were as sparkling to our untrained gaze on our evening of memories as they must have been to the trained eyes of one of the greatest personalities of old Samarkand, Ulughbek, the astronomer.

The grandson of Timur, the founder of the Mughal dynasty and a fierce military leader who ruled over this area and established Samarkand as the capital of his sprawling empire, Ulughbek, which means "Great Man" in Turkish, should rank alongside the dominant names in astronomical science like Galileo and Copernicus.

A major effort of his scholarly activities was to compile a catalogue of some 1,018 stars. Little is left of this intellectual-turned-scientist's great observatory except for a 11 m segment of a once 55 m high marble sextant. Using this device in 1437, the mathematician was able to calculate the length of a year to within one minute and plot the world's first atlas of the heavens.

Timur and Ulughbek were the undisputed "stars" of ancient Samarkand. While no such illustrious figures shine in Bukhara's long and glorious past, this cultural treasure trove has even more on offer to the persistent and, in summer, perspiring visitor.

Bukhara, like Samarkand, about 270 km to the east, also held capital city status but for far more years. Unlike Samarkand, which is dotted with relics of its golden days, the whole of the old town of Bukhara has, since 1993, been inscribed on the UNESCO "World Heritage List of Globally Important Places".

"The urban fabric of its historic centre remains largely intact," notes a dossier on this legendary city. "Bukhara is the most complete example of a medieval city in Central Asia," declares the document.

At its epicentre is a true, but little known, wonder of the world. Begun in the Seventh Century on a 20 m high artificial hill, much restoration work and outright reconstruction has been undertaken over the centuries to preserve The Ark, the pride of the Bukhara Emirate.

We walked up The Ark's inclined entry ramp, under its 12th Century heavy wooden gate and into what was more like a fully self-contained city with a former population of 3,000 inhabitants than merely the ultra secure residence of a feudal ruler.

In fact the Ark was more than just a home for a successive dynasty of emirs; it was also the barracks for their bodyguards and a garrison for their troops, a mint, a shrine - as there is a mosque inside this citadel - workshops for talented artisans, bath houses, a reputed harem and even a prison deliberately located under the stables.

Cries of pleasure and screams of pain are heard no more; the sounds today are of machinery being used to save this priceless structure from the ravages of time.

From the ramparts of this resurrected veteran of the ages, there is a compelling, and chilling, view over Bukhara's Registan Square, which at times ran red with the blood of those executed under the orders of tyrannical emirs.

"Slavery existed in the Bukhara Emirate until 1888," our soft- spoken, but well-trained, local guide said, "while the last emir was only deposed in 1920. His grandchildren have dispersed around the world like sand in a storm with some living in the United States and Germany and still others in Pakistan and Turkey.

Beyond the square and easily seen from selected vantage points on The Ark are three unmistakable landmarks of this city of 2,35,000: the blue domes of the Kalyan Mosque and the adjacent Mir-i-Madrassah, one of the few Islamic centres of learning still in operation in Bukhara.

The former, we were told, as the second largest mosque in the country - the first in Samarkand is still undergoing extensive restoration - can easily accommodate 10,000 worshippers at one time. The latter's original construction costs were funded from the sale of 3,000 Persian slaves.

Shadowing both these buildings is another gruesome reminder of inhumanity. If referred to by its original name there is no hint of a notorious past to the circa 1127, 46.5 m high and richly decorated Kalyan Minaret. Only after hearing that criminals were tied up in sacks and then tossed from its lofty top does the ominous tag "Tower of Death" become a fitting name.

Tales of deceit and treachery are still retold alongside stories of valour and compassion. Reality or fantasy ... it is difficult to separate one from the other while walking the baked mud streets of old Bukhara and passing gold toothed men wearing embroidered skull caps and women clothed in rainbow-patterned scarves and dresses, real life characters so typical of this timeless town that truly appears to have survived intact from the pages of The Arabian Nights.

Send this article to Friends by E-Mail

Section  : Features
Previous : The generation gap
Next     : Second to nun