<br /><br />The Tomb of Daniel is considered to be a holy place by 3 religions. However, truth be told, it is a little silly. Due to a belief that Daniel's body grows, the stone above the tomb is 8 meters long. I'd say “stone sarcophagus” but I read that the bodies aren't actually kept inside the stones but buried in crypts underneath. Anyway, I don't think they are still enlarging the stone, but it is a tight fit in the tomb. The tomb was built in 1900. Next to the tomb are some hills/cliffs of mud which might be old Samarkand's walls. One had an ornate door in it but it was locked.<br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0520b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0520s.jpg"></A><br />Daniel's Tomb</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0523b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0523s.jpg"></A><br />Door in cliff near Daniel's Tomb</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">Ulugbek's observatory was much more appealing to my rational mind. What remains is the huge marble track for a giant sextant. Surrounding it are tall brick walls all of which is enclosed in a narrow building. The area at the top of the track is circular with brick walls showing where I guess other instruments went. The park is built at the level of the top of the sextant ramp. There is a small but informative museum showing miniatures (mainly copies) as well as photos of sites and a few artifacts related to Ulugbek and the time period. There are some prints of what the observatory looked like as well as copies of tables of figures and calculations conducted by Ulugbek.</div> <br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0524b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0524s.jpg"></A><br />Ulugbek's astronomical instrument track</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0531b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0531s.jpg"></A><br />How Ulugbek's Observatory used to look</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">An interesting quote from Ahtuan Gobil in the 18th Century recalled, “Lamas and Tibetan priests have an ancient astronomy book. All that Chinese learned in the area of this science came from the West Samarkand outskirts.”<br /><br />I know very little about Ulugbek but he sounds pretty interesting as far as rulers go. He was a scientist, mathematician, and philosopher. He built the Ulugbek medressa (school) between 1415 and 1420 in what is now Registan as well as a series of other buildings there (none of which remains). He built a couple other medressas as well. Eventually he was killed by religious fanatics (possibly his son) who didn't appreciate his scientific take on things, I guess.</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0532b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0532s.jpg"></A><br />How Ulugbek's Observatory looks today</div><br clear="all"> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1223461013 Shakhrisabz: Chaihane Culture 10.8.08<br />

<br /><br />After perhaps over-bargaining for a shared taxi, we finally got on the road. Over-bargaining is when you get the price as low as it will probably go then waste time trying to get it lower. Or, eventually getting it a little lower but getting a bit screwed in the end. But who knows? Maybe if we paid the full price, the driver still wouldn't have taken us all the way. Anyway, the driver took us a little ways into Shakhristan and dropped us off at a bazaar which wasn't the central bazaar we had asked for. We started walking and realized we'd gone more than 300 meters without seeing a sign of Timurid architecture. When Rowshan asked we learned it was still a couple km away. So we caught a mashrutka to the center and once again were in business. <br /><br />I guess we are suffering from Timurid architecture overload. Another turquoise tile dome, more ornate tile-work on brick building, more highly decorated painted interiors. We glanced at the tombs, the iwan and area inside of Kok Gumbol--the mosque. The painting was comparatively unique since instead of being completely covered with designs, there were walls of rectangular panels with paintings inside. The tome paintings were also different. The courtyard/medressa was full of souvenir sellers.<br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0003b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0003s.jpg"></A><br />Interior of Mausoleum at Kok-Gumbaz</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0005b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0005s.jpg"></A><br />Mausoleum at Kok-Gumbaz</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0007b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0007s.jpg"></A><br />Interior of Kok-Gumbaz Mosque</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We rushed past and went to the Khazrat Imam complex behind. It was a ruined brick building with some remains of a foundation. We glanced into a rather un-ornate tomb and a guy tried to sell us tickets. We decided he was probably a fake since his tickets weren't in a book (looked like the paper was too white (photocopied) instead of the usual ones printed on newsprint.) That and the site was supposed to be free. He was also annoying so we ignored him. Later we passed him again sitting at a souvenir table.</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0009b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0009s.jpg"></A><br />Khazrati-Imam Mausoleum complex</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We walked back North through the town glancing at a caravansaray and mosques on the way. The Ak Saray (White Palace) isn't white and not much remains of the former huge complex. Upon the ruins, a large park complex has been built. The area had an atmosphere of a carnival. There was even a ferris wheel visible beyond the ruins! Around the park were cafes blasting music, crowds of tourists pouring back into tour buses and a couple wedding parties. A large statue of Timur dominates the center and serves as a backdrop for wedding photographs. <br /><br />What remained of the palace was beautiful. It was the tall brick ruins of what perhaps had been an entrance tower. We didn't go up but we did admire the beautiful remains of the blue and white tile-work which covered some of the surfaces.Outside of the tower, we saw a group of musicians playing for a wedding party—long horns, a zurna type instrument, a nagara and another drum.</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0018b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0018s.jpg"></A><br />The pishtak of Ak-Saray</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0022b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0022s.jpg"></A><br />Wedding musicians</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We decided to walk back to the center and get lunch at a very crowded chaihane. We ordered plov, tea and took a seat on a tea bed inside an enclosed wooden patio. The patio had ornate carved wooden pillars and ceilings. The plov was yummy and people working there were friendly. It was here we realized Shakhrisabz is more Uzbek than Tajik. Rowshan had to switch to Azeri instead of the Farsi he'd been using in Samarkand. On the main part of the patio which was completely open on the sides, the tea beds were full with mostly groups of men-- many older. Hanging from the ceiling were rows of covered bird cages. One of the men told Rowshan the birds were called budani and at 7PM the cages were uncovered and the birds woke up and sang (kind of like Disney's Tiki Room!). The man said he and his friends liked to relax by just sitting and watching the birds. Even without the birds, our lunch at the chaihane had revived us and made us feel happier about people. There is something very refined and gentlemanly about the chaihane. People casually talk and are friendly but you don't have to worry that they want anything from you besides conversation.</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0035b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0035s.jpg"></A><br />Bird cages hanging at the chaihane</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The area in front of the chaihane was also crowded. Men sat on platforms which had been placed on brick walls which housed trees. A couple men were playing chess. Rowshan got into a conversation with one of the spectators. Rowshan asked him if he played and the man replied, “only for money.” Rowshan joked, calling him Kasparov, “So you've already won everyone's money here.” The other men laughed. Another man told Rowshan he'd traveled to Iran and Konya (Turkey).</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0045b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0045s.jpg"></A><br />A chess match at the chaihane</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0046b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0046s.jpg"></A><br />Uzbek Men relaxing at the chaihane</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">Next to the chaihane patrons, a group of Uzbek women in jewel colored velvets decorated with flowers and sparkles, wold jewelry from little portfolios they pulled out of their purses. We left with a good impression of Shakhrisabz, wishing there were more traditional chaihanes left in Uzbek cities.</div><br /><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSS_0038b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSS_0038s.jpg"></A><br />Jewelry sellers</div><br clear="all"> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1229757238 Samarkand: Bibi Khanym, Guri Amir and a Note about Food 10.7.08 <br>

<br> <br>The Bibi Khanem Mosque has gone through some restoration on the exterior but the interior of the structure is mostly unrestored, falling into ruin. However, there is something rewarding about deciphering the faint remnants of patterns on the crumbling frescoed walls. <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0452b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0452s.jpg"></A> <br>Bibi Khanym mosque ruins</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0191b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0191s.jpg"></A> <br>Bibi Khanym column</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The exterior tile-work, of course, wasn't as amazing as in the Registan but it was pretty with lines of flowers and snowflakes. The mosque in the interior had 2 interesting 5 sided pillars decorated with panels of tile work. In the center of the courtyard is a giant marble Koran stand surrounded by souvenir salespeople.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0436b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0436s.jpg"></A> <br>Bibi Khanym mosque entrance</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open <br>('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0196b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0196s.jpg"></A> <br>Pastry delivery boy outside the walls of Bibi Khanym</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The Guri Amir Mausoleum's dome rises above the part of town between the Registan and the Russian part of town. It is turquoise and decorated with blue tile patterns. Inside the tomb room is decorated with blue and gold relief work and painted decoration in a Baroque like over abundance of decoration.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0491b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0491s.jpg"></A> <br>Guri Amir Mausoleum at night</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0482b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0482s.jpg"></A> <br>Guri Amir mausoleum</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The tombstones are simple and serene-- blocks of carved marble and jade. The most exquisite is the carved light green jade stone of Muhammad Sulton (1374-1403). Amir Timur's tomb (1336-1405) is black. I couldn't tell if it was stone or ebony wood. The lower part of the mausoleum's interior is also decorated with beautiful carved jade and marble. The room echoes like a cathedral and is crowned by a crystal chandelier. The light from outside filters in through ornate grates.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0484b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0484s.jpg"></A> <br>Tombs in Guri Amir mausoleum</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">In front of Guri Amir is the Rukhobod Mausoleum. There is an old medressa filled with souvenir shops. The mausoleum was built in 1380.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0235b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0235s.jpg"></A> <br>Door of Rukhobod Mausoleum</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0223b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0223s.jpg"></A> <br>Rukhobod Mausoleum</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0231b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0231s.jpg"></A> <br>Souvenirs for sale</div><br clear="all"> <br>Uzbek Food in Samarkand <br><div class="posttext">I should mention something about Uzbek food. Most of the restaurants/chaihanes have the standard Central Asian fare: laghman (noodles w/ meat), soup (with meat), shashlik (meat kebabs), manti (meat stuffed raviolis), plov (rice pilaf). So far we've had plov for lunch everyday we've been here but I don't mind because I like it. Here, (I don't know if this is seasonal) they make it with squash, onions, chickpeas, and sometimes raisins or peppers and just a few chunks of meat. It's a bit oily but tasty. We usually find it for lunch being made in big metal cauldrons over gas flames. It is prepared separately in the pot: rice, vegetables, and meat but served together. Usually people order a salad of tomatoes and cucumbers with it. On the street there are a lot of piroshki (fried dough stuffed with meat) and samsas (baked dough stuffed with meat) for sale. Here at the B&B, they serve a squash and onion samsa for breakfast every morning (except when there was no gas). For dinner, we usually buy a loaf of hot Samarkand bread, shiny with egg, heavy though small, with sprinkles of black sesame seeds. Rowshan has always been able to find a hot loaf. It is as if they are constantly baking them and they are bought up before they get cold. This we eat with cheese, tomatoes, and cucumbers (and NO MEAT!!!!). <br> <br>It looks like the people of Samarkand have a sweet tooth. There are lots of cakes and cookies for sale. I also found fudge in some stores.</div> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1223293477 Samarkand: Reveling in Registan 10.6.08 <br><div class="panorama"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_Registansb.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_Registans.jpg"></A> <br>Registan panorama</div><br clear="all"> <br> <br><div class="posttext">All the photos I've seen and stories I've read didn't prepare me for Samarkand. Or maybe its man-made beauty shocked me since for the past couple months we've been in places of natural beauty but lacking an abundance of historic beautiful sites. This morning was devoted to visiting Registan. Although surrounded by more modern city structures, the buildings of the Registan still dwarf them. This impressive threesome of medressas dominate the part of town we are in with turquoise domes, tiled faces and minarets. The beige bricks of the buildings are adorned with turquoise, blue, green and white tiles. The tile work has fascinating designs and patterns, flowers become stars, and swirls become flowers. The brick and tiles harmoniously shine against the light blue sky. Columns soar with ornate tiled crowns. Everywhere there are patterns but the effect is calming rather than clashing. <br> <br>In the courtyard, surrounded on 3 sides by these medressas (schools) it is hard to decide where to look first. I chose Ulugbek's. It has 2 beautiful minarets with tile brick patterns which direct the eye upward to its tiled calligraphy and geometrical “stalactite” capitals (muqama). The “body” of the building is solid and rectangular. Mostly it is decorated with brick tile patterns but pointed arches add curves and serve as the base for ornate swirled vines and flower tile work.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0022b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0022s.jpg"></A> <br>Ulugbek Medressa</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The architect was Kavomidden Sherozi whose name means he was from Shiraz. Looking at these buildings devoted to science and seeing the skillful craftsmanship really makes one see what an amazing place Samarkand must have been in its heyday. <br> <br>The central entrance section (Iwan), is where the simpler patterns give way to a riot of ornamentation and an incredible variety of tile work. Gardens of stars, flowers, and filigree blossom from the walls. Some are cut tiles, other glazed patterns on tile. The top is a beautiful section of star patterns merging into flowers, contrasting colors of glazed work against patterned terracotta. A geometric patterned window grate reveals the courtyard, baring you from what's inside but giving one the feeling of glimpsing into a secret place. <br> <br>One thing that impressed me about the architecture and decoration is the division of space. It is as if the architecture is dividing the world of patterns into manageable spaces. There seems to be something philosophical about it-- presenting different ideas, a balance between sensible grounded brick tiles and poetic vines and flowers finding the parts that make a whole. At eye level, the tile-work was broken by a strip of calligraphy carved into marble and below that was simple geometric designs in blue tile. <br> <br>The inside courtyard had four doorways and numerous rooms surrounded it. Above the door of each was a passage in Arabic. Rowshan translated one, “Gain science in this world for the next.” Unfortunately, the rooms had been made into souvenir shops with sellers badgering us to come inside making it difficult to peacefully soak in the beauty of the designs.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0274b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0274s.jpg"></A> <br>Ulugbek Medressa doorway inscription</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="posttext">In the courtyard I was struck by the calming and cooling feeling which radiated from the tiles from the cool colors: blues, greens, turquoises. One type of tile-work patterns repeated in the doorways reminded me of blue and white snowflakes. A cool oasis in the desert.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0277b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0277s.jpg"></A> <br>Ulugbek Medressa “snowflakes”</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="posttext">One woman who was trying to get us into her shop told another seller in Tajik Rowshan was a tourist. Rowshan responded that he wasn't. “Look around! Everything is Persian.” He challenged her to read the writing above her shop. When she acknowledged that she couldn't read it, he asked, “Who is the tourist?” and she said, “I am.” <br> <br>My first impression of the Tilla Kori Medressa (built 1646-1660 during the reign of Yalangtush Bakhodir) was it was more down to earth with simpler tile work than the other medressas. It was only 1 story. Then we walked into the mosque. It was redolent of gold, white, and blue filigree rising to intricate leaves and vines which create an optical illusion of a domed roof. It was the Baroque or Rococo equivalent in Islamic Architecture.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0052b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0052s.jpg"></A> <br>Tilla-Kari Medressa</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0301b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0301s.jpg"></A> <br>Tilla-Kari Medressa gold mosque</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0391b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0391s.jpg"></A> <br>Ceiling of Tilla Kari Medressa gold mosque</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="posttext">It one wing was a museum with interesting old photos of monuments around town before restoration. On a return visit, Rowshan found the restorers had made a mistake on the painted interior painting several Arabic calligraphic pieces backwards. We also learned the Soviet restorers had added domes to the main structure and its minarets.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0019b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0019s.jpg"></A> <br>“Restorers” added domes to Tilla-Kari Medressa</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="posttext">In the museum was a short paragraph on the history of the site. Ulugbek's 15th century constructions were the medressa, Khonako, a caravansaray, two mosques (Mukatta and Kukaldosh. In the 17th century, Yalangtush Bahodur built the Medressa Sherdor on the ruined Khanako and the Tilla Kori Madressa on the ruins of the caravansaray. <br> <br>In the courtyard of Tilla Kori we saw a ceramics workshop. We are a little skeptical of these “workshops” because most seem to just be souvenir stores. We were surprised, however, to find an actual artist in the ceramics workshop. He was very gracious and when he learned Rowshan was also a ceramics artist, he told him about the different styles in his shop, about the processes used and unlocked the next cell over and showed Rowshan the kiln he'd made. Among the pieces he had for sale were “suzan” designs from Rishtan--solid colored pieces with tezhip designs carved into the pigment with a needle, Green and blue Rishtan pieces with blue and green designs, and his own work-- whimsical figurines of white beards, camels, and dragons as well as Samarkand style bowls with designs etched in and tinted sections of transparent colored glazes.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0317b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0317s.jpg"></A> <br>Rowshan and Rowshan</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0329b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0329s.jpg"></A> <br>The other Rowshan and his creations</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The 3rd Medressa, Sher Dor's striking features include some odd tile lions (that look like tigers) with a sun rising behind with a rather cartoonish looking face. It looks like they are working on restoring the main arch tile work. Another striking feature is the turquoise fluted, tiled domes.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0367b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0367s.jpg"></A> <br>Sher Dor Medressa</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0024b.jpg','... http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1223207124 For our ride from the border to Samarkand, the other passenger in our taxi was a 2nd wife in a polygamous marriage. Her husband had 2 wives and she was the youngest. She had been talking about multiple wives and had said, “There is war if he can't support them.” We asked her if there is ever war between her and the other wife. She said, “No” and that her husband was a good man and supported them both as well as all their children. And she was dressed well (though women here usually are). She told us Samarkand makes the best bread and highly recommended the sweets. <br> <br>The best place to find bread in Samarkand is the Siob Bazaar: a clean and attractive open bazaar with marble vendor tables, white ceiling and a bread area with carved wooden columns. The market is kept clean by sweepers who patrol the aisles disregarding any shoppers feet or bags in their way. It's filled with good smells and attractively arranged foods. We bought some pomegranates which Rowshan squeezed in their skins into juice. <br><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0039b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0039s.jpg"></A> <br>woman buying fresh Samarkand bread</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0052b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0052s.jpg"></A> <br>Rowshan's favorite</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">Rowshan got into a conversation with some women who were giggling about his hair (thinking he wouldn't understand). Somehow the conversation turned to how he could marry 4 of them and the one who was caught laughing about his hair would have the job of combing it. One would cook, another make salad (they were greens vendors) but when he asked who'd clean, one pointed at me. I guess I'd better watch out for these Uzbek/Tajik women.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0069b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0069s.jpg"></A> <br>Green grocer girls</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">A couple days later, at one of our Internet cafe stops, Rowshan pointed out a young man peering over the shoulder of a young woman chatting using a messenger program. Rowshan laughed, “We used to do that at the computer center to get the user names of people and send them messages.” Then, while checking my Facebook account, I saw I had a message from an Uzbek guy 20 years younger than me which simply said, “Hi”. I joked to Rowshan that if he was going to collect potential wives at the bazaar, I was going to collect young computer guys at Internet cafes. <br> <br>Back at the bazaar, a spice vendor tried to sell Rowshan saffron to which he replied, “I'm from Iran. The best saffron is from Mashad, Iran.” Then he tried to sell cumin to which Rowshan replied, “The best cumin is from Kerman, also in Iran.” Aside from food, there were also women selling traditional Uzbek hats.</div> <br><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0066b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0066s.jpg"></A> <br>hat saleswoman</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We found an open air cafe and got plov, salad, and tea. It was a popular place so when Rowshan saw to old men with long white beards carrying soup bowls, he offered them places at our table. They tourists as well, visiting from “Leninbad”. It took us a little while to figure out they were from Khojand which used to be called Leninbad. <br> <br>Across from the bazaar, we found some metal workers. These were practical metal workers, not souvenir makers. They were making tools: scythes, shovel heads, hoe heads as well as aluminum pipes, boxes and sink structures. They all called over to us and wanted to chat, especially when they found out Rowshan spoke Farsi (we are in a predominantly Tajik speaking area still). After that we peeked at the Hazrat-Hizr Mosque which has a beautiful painted ceiling.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0084b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0084s.jpg"></A> <br>metal worker</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0086b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0086s.jpg"></A> <br>metal work shop</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0090b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0090s.jpg"></A> <br>Hazrat-Hizr Mosque painted ceiling</div><br clear="all"> <br> Shah-I-Zinda <br><div class="posttext">The Shah-I-Zinda complex is a narrow avenue of mausoleums, most decorated with tiles of glazed terracotta work. There are a huge variety of decorative styles. Some have tile-work inside and out, others are just white washed (maybe they were tiled but the tile-work got destroyed), and others are filled with painted designs.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0102b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0102s.jpg"></A> <br>Shah-I-Zinda complex</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0116b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0116s.jpg"></A> <br>Shadi Mulk Aka Mausoeum, Shah-i-Zinda</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0153b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0153s.jpg"></A> <br>Interior of one of the Mausoleums, Shah-i-Zinda,</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0124b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0124s.jpg"></A> <br>Usto Ali Nesefi Mausoleum, Shah-i-Zinda</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We spent quite a while wandering through. The last section had two mausoleums with beautiful glazed terracotta designs-- a colored glass covered version of the type of clay work we'd seen at Aysha Bibi in Taraz and Uzgen. The most religiously important mausoleum though is for Mohamad's cousin Abbas who is credited for spreading Islam in Central Asia. It contained a mosque, prayer room, and the tomb. In the prayer room a man sang prayers while everyone sat absorbing the beauty of the space.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0108b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0108s.jpg"></A> <br>Glazed terracotta column, Shah-i-Zinda</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0160b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0160s.jpg"></A> <br>Row of mausoleums, Shah-i-Zinda</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0163b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0163s.jpg"></A> <br>View of Shadi Mulk Oko mausoleum from Octagonal mausoleum</div><br clear="all"><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0177b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0177s.jpg"></A> <br>Men outside of Shah-I-Zinda</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We walked back into the center and then towards the Russian part of town because I needed to use the Internet. One of the wonderful things about Samarkand was it was a city with its own history and identity before the Russians got here. It feels more like a Middle Eastern city like Istanbul, cities in Iran and Morocco. It has an appreciation for beauty and culture and a strong Central Asian character instead of Soviet. That said, there is a Russian area with straight tree lined streets and Russian/Soviet buildings. It also has cafes, restaurants and a pretty park. Everything closed early Sunday night, but we did get some hot Samarkand bread which is delicious, cheese, tomatoes and cucumbers.</div> <br><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0558b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0558s.jpg">&# http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1223163124 “Mr. Finish?” the floor lady asked as we handed the key to her. She asks this whenever we leave, “Finish?”, “Mr. Finish?” I think it is the only English she knows. Oh well, at least she tries. I always answer in Russian, “No, we are staying a couple more days/1 more day, etc.” She is not as bad as some of the Russian women who work in the hotels, oblivious to the fact that the Soviet Union is no more and they are now members of a market economy. Today when we left, some of the Tajik housekeepers who were watching TV with the floor manager, chatted a little with Rowshan. The Russian floor lady even joined in on the conversation in a friendly matter. Maybe the Tajik friendliness is rubbing off. <br> <br>On the road to Samarkand we saw lots of cotton fields and corn that was “as high as an elephant's eye”. There were sunflower fields, donkeys, sheep, cows, goats and 1 camel. We went from fertile irrigated fields to extremely dry hills like petrified grass covered sand dunes with graceful curves. From there we came to more dry dirt hills-- some looking like they were made from wasp nest paper. Others looked like pieces of the flat earth had been forced up revealing cliffs around the edges of a diagonal plane. For a section, the earth became red and formed curved and rounded red boulders and wind carved shapes. Later we came to mountains covered with rocks. The colors and shapes of the landscapes were surprising in their variety but shared the characteristic of dryness. <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/UZSK_0003b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/UZSK_0003s.jpg"></A> <br>view of mountains between Uzbek border and Samarkand</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The road was the best we've driven on in a while. At one point it even became a 4 lane divided highway. We could almost have been in California. Then the car had to slow down to navigate between a flock of sheep in one lane and a man riding a donkey in the other. We ascended a mountain covered with boulders. The colors of the valley below were softened by the dusk. <br> <br>We got to Samarkand around 7PM. It was dark but we even through the darkness we could see the tantalizing shapes of domes against the night sky.</div> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1223076069 About ½ hour from Dushanbe is the town of Hissar. It feels like a completely different world—instead of Russian buildings and wide streets, it is a small busy town where men wear traditional clothing and the remains of 16th-18th century structures. <br> <br> <br> <br><div class="thumbnailvert"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJHS_0002b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJHS_0002s.jpg"></A> <br>Hisar men in traditional clothing</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The historic part of town has the ruins of a fortress—now just some large piles of dried mud and a reconstructed gate--, a couple medressas, the ruins of a caravansaray and baths, and a mausoleum. From the mud wall, we had a view of the medressas and a man threshing his wheat. Most of the cars drove around it but occasionally one would go through the piles of hay. Then the man would sweep the hay back into a pile for the next car.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJHS_0007b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJHS_0007s.jpg"></A> <br>View of the medressas, and ruins of the caravansaray and baths</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJHS_0011b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJHS_0011s.jpg"></A> <br>Using cars to thresh wheat</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">The Medressa-i-Nau was locked but had some pretty carvings on the doors. The Medressa-i-Khuna from the 16th century has an ethnographic/historic museum with exhibits in some of the cells of pottery, handcrafts, and other items.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJHS_0019b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJHS_0019s.jpg"></A> <br>Carving from Medressa-i-Nau</div><br clear="all"> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1222816869 We were going to fly to Dushanbe yesterday but the weather was a bit inclement so the plane didn't fly. Didn't go the day before either. When we were trying to figure out if the plane left, Rowshan asked several people. Everyone seemed to say something different. One man said it definitely left because his sister flew on it. Another young man said they saw it leave. One taxi driver said it hadn't flown. Another said it had. But once we got to the airport, we found out there had indeed been no plane. So, I have no idea why so many people were insisting it had. <br> <br>A 14 hour drive on narrow winding roads brought us to Dushanbe. I got carsick twice when I usually don't get carsick. Maybe it was the SUV, maybe the driver, maybe because the windows were fogged up so I couldn't see out. It cleared up and I popped a motion sickness pill then managed OK. It was still a lot more frightening than the plane. It was the first heavy rain of the season so water streamed over the dirt roads, washing parts away. At one point we almost got caught in a mudslide. As we were driving by, we could see a small stream of mud and dirt begin flowing down the hill. The driver gunned the engine and got us out of there. <br> <br>Once it cleared up a little and I managed to overcome my car sickness, we had some beautiful views of villages across the river on the Afghan side. The area had some sizable villages and was a lot more populated than the Wakhan area. <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJKH_0291b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJKH_0291s.jpg"></A> <br>An Afghan village</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJKH_0313b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJKH_0313s.jpg"></A> <br>Afghani people in their village</div><br clear="all"> <div class="posttext">The road wound up to a mountain pass. At the top were lots of warning signs and paths roped off. The area was mined during the civil war and the mines hadn't been cleared yet. The roped off areas were paths that had been cleared. A little farther down from the pass, we came to a village. The harsh mountains had given way to rolling grass covered hills. We stopped at a village which was known for its quality meat and honey. One of the passengers bought a leg of mutton. R and I bought some honey. A woman who was traveling with us told us the honey there was really good “ecologically clean” the Russian term for “organic.”</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJKH_0316b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJKH_0316s.jpg"></A> <br>The other side of the mountains</div><br clear="all"> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJKH_0318b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJKH_0318s.jpg"></A> <br>Horse galloping</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">As we left the mountains we reached flat and smooth pavement. About ½ hour from Dushanbe when the driver insisted on stopping and washing the car. We thought this very strange but the woman we were traveling with explained that in Dushanbe, they actually will fine drivers if their car is dirty. Rowshan pointed out the hypocrisy of them punishing people for the fact that the government hasn't put in decent roads. The road through the mountains was a mess. <br> <br>The reason we had to take that road was the faster road which went further along the Afghan border, was being repaired by Turkish construction crews. After they finish with that road, they will fix the mountain road. The driver said that police and guards were really corrupt on the other road demanding tolls so if the mountain road is repaired, then the traffic will probably shift to that road just to avoid the bribes necessary on the shorter road.</div> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1222384869 As we were eating breakfast, we learned our hostess' mother was in the hospital in Khorog. Rowshan asked her if she wanted a ride to Khorog. She shyly declined saying she hadn't had a shower. Rowshan responded that it wasn't a problem since we all hadn't bathed in days and we'd be stopping by the hot springs at Jelandy. She went to check with her father and he encouraged her to go saying they needed supplies (all their supplies came from monthly trips to either Khorog or Murgab). So it was agreed she'd go with us. She quickly got ready while Zaher tried to get the car started-- a difficult feat since the oil was frozen. <br> <br>The guys moved the car out to a sunny spot and we waited. Eventually everything was warm enough that the car would run. We headed back up the road to the Pamir Highway. Once on the highway, the enticing semi-smooth stretch of pavement ended and we were on crumbled broken pavement and gravel. The landscape was shades of beige against a bright blue sky. Some of the highest peaks had glaciers sparkling on their tops. There were a few small streams running next to the road but all were mostly frozen. The landscape was desert dry. It seemed lifeless except for large flocks of tiny birds which wheeled across the road.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJPMHW_0019b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJPMHW_0019s.jpg"></A> <br>Mountains and stream</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">We once again drove on pavement but to our dismay, it was rougher than the gravel roads we'd been driving on in previous days. Zaher would sometimes follow tire tracks off the road and drive along side the highway because the dirt road was smoother. <br> <br>The hot springs were rather unexciting. The women's bath had a pool and showers. All the showers were broken so only produced scalding sulfury water and no cold or warm. Ironically, a sign at the entrance requested people to shower before getting into the pool. The faucets for the pool worked so eventually I filled a plastic tub with cold water to mix with the scalding water so I could wash. The hot spring pool itself looked kind of grungy. <br> <br>From Jelandy we progressed to the Gunt River Valley. The river was Caribbean blue against white rocks. Along the river, trees were a flurry of bright green and yellow leaves. The valley began to become more populated as we got closer to Khorog. Even though the Pamir highway is the largest road in the region, it still resembles a country road and occasionally we had to steer off the road to avoid flocks of sheep and goats. <br> <br>Eventually we stopped for gas at a fuel truck parked by the side of the road “Benzin” written on a tiny sign. (signage and advertising aren't really developed concepts in the Pamirs... quite a contrast to California where aside from obvious signage, the gas station itself would be showing ads on monitors at the pumps). It was the first “gas station” we'd seen on the highway. The attendant sat in the front seat of the fuel truck puffing on a cigarette. When we stopped, he put it out and climbed out of the vehicle. About a block down the street we passed another fuel truck with a sign visible from the opposite direction. <br> <br>As we continued, we came to a striking landslide of huge boulders as if a mountain had fallen into the valley. The river became a torrent of rapids and cascades. Once through this obstacle course of giant boulders, the river widened. There were fantastic golden leafed forests. The sun filtered through the leaves and reflected off the leaves which had fallen on the ground. It seemed like an echo of Tolkein's Lothlorian.</div> <br><div class="thumbnail"><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJPMHW_0025b.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJPMHW_0025s.jpg"></A> <br>Golden leafed trees</div><br clear="all"><div class="posttext">Beyond the forests were harsh gray mountains with gussets of scree from previous landslides. It is strange to think of how active these seemingly solid and still mountains actually are. Sometimes these walls of mountains were broken by unexpected glimpses of taller snow capped peaks. <br> <br>We had a narrow escape from an accident when as a truck going the opposite direction passed us, a donkey came barreling out of the yard of a house on our side--chasing after the truck as if he thought he was a dog. Zaher slammed on his breaks to avoid hitting it. <br> <br>We felt that we were returning to civilization as we got closer to Khorog and drove past the site of the future University of Central Asia and the monument to the first vehicle which drove the Pamir Highway from Osh to Khorog. (Did it last much longer after that or did they immediately make it into a monument?)</div> http://www.rowshanmusic.com/cgi-bin/blog/index.cgi?mode=viewone&blog=1222298469 <A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJBK_panoramaykulb.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJBK_panoramaykuls.jpg"></A> <br> <br>It is really cold here and the wind seems almost constant. Our hostess served milk rice kasha for breakfast which hit the spot. Then we ventured out into the cold wind to hike to Yeshil Kul (Green Lake). The sun was bright but its warmth couldn't penetrate the coldness of the wind. We tried to cut straight across the jailoo to get to the road which led up a mountain to the lake. A bit too late, we realized what we thought was mostly dry pasture, was swamp. We leaped from grassy island to island trying to avoid the muddy channels between. What we thought would be a shortcut was a snaking path which finally got us to dry land at the base of the hill. <br> <br>From there everything became desert-like sandy dirt with pin-cushion cacti or scrubby brush only able to grow a few inches due to the harsh environment: wind, lack of water, freezing weather, and salt filled soil. <br> <br>Climbing up the hill was a slow feat since the wind was against us and we are at a rather high altitude. Finally we reached the top and were able to look down at the lake. It was a slightly greenish blue with white caps stirred up by the wind. <br> <br>At the base of the lake was a small warm pool-- clear with lots of water grasses growing in it. The wind didn't let up next to the lake so, after sitting a little, we returned back over the hill to Bulunkul. <br> <br>The mountains around Bulunkul seem to have been marbled with red and orange pigments. Even without the warm evening light of yesterday, the colors still retained their richness. <br><A HREF=#null OnClick="javascript:window.open('http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/big/TJBK_panoramamntb.jpg','Popup','scrollbars=1')"><img src="http://www.thelittleblackfish.org/blogdata/TJBK_panoramamnts.jpg"></A>