Brooklynites in Samarkand
Samarkand, Uzbekistan, on Monday, October 20, 2014.
“This will be the first time I don’t take pictures of my food,” said the older American man across from me at the dinner table, back at the Antica B&B where I was staying. He had just come from spending a few days in a remote, less-frequented village in the mountains, and it was a culture shock for him to be seated at a proper dinner in civilization, with other people. It was a bigger shock that in our conversation, we found out that he was not only American, and not only from New York, but also from Brooklyn. “By relocation,” he said.
His name was Jonathan, and was traveling independently in Uzbekistan for a couple of weeks. He too had friends that thought he was crazy to go to such a country, even his wife, but he assured them that it was perfectly fine place to go.
We dined on the home-cooked meal prepared for us, and chat over a couple of beers. Needless to say, he became my BFFN.
Getting my dolma on. (Vegetables stuffed with rice and meat.)
“Wow this is just amazing,” my BFFN Jonathan from Brooklyn said. “Where else could you just walk out to this?”
Our B&B Antica was just a 30-second walk to the Gur-E-Amir Mausoleum, and having just arrived in Samarkand, he hadn’t seen it yet. I told him I wanted to check it out after dinner to see it lit up.
Officially the site was closed, but there’s no closed gate. We walked in and started shooting photos until the night guard approached us. “Ticket?” he asked me.
“I have mine from before,” I told him and showed him.
“Three thousand for pictures.”
“What if I don’t want to take pictures?” I said. That threw him for a loop.
“Your friend?” he asked me, pointing at Jonathan shooting pictures.
“Yeah.”
He made him buy a ticket, “Good for three days.” Then he had a change of heart. “Photos, free.”
Funny, I didn’t pay the first time for photos, but was happy to not have to pay a bribe for being there off hours. And lucky for us, the door to the inside was still open.
“There’s no one here!” Jonathan raved. We had the Gur-E-Amir Mausoleum to ourselves. Well, us and the dead guys.
Jonathan was amazed, and I was too, even the second time around. “This is spectacular,” he said. “It’s almost kitschy because it’s so over the top. Islamic baroque.”
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