Conducting Part II of a Writing Workshop...then Getting a Taster of Tashkent Food and Sight Seeing.

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

Tashkent, Uzbekistan

Conducting Part II of a Writing Workshop...then Getting a Taster of Tashkent Food and Sight Seeing.

     Salaam Aleikum from Tashkent!

     It is a real treat to be in a room that feels bracingly cool—I have no heating but with the windows closed, it is quite comfortable in my PJs and warm cashmere socks that I had the good sense to throw into my case. I awoke about twice at night but returned instantly to sleep to awake finally at about 5.00 am. I decided to get down to writing my journal for my future blog posts and to prepare for my class that was scheduled to begin at 9.00 am.

     When those were done, I had breakfast in my room: a large calzone filled with cheese and sausage that was good with a cup of coffee that I was able to brew in my own room. I ate these with lovely sweet strawberries—all of which Nozilya has sent me home last night.

    A quick shower later (it was hot and voluminous and very bracing), I got dressed formally (thank heaven I threw in formal clothes as the very fashionable Nozliya is dressed like a fashion model) and then found myself with another 45 minutes on hand and sleep washing over me. I decided to curl up (fully dressed) and have a short nap—which I did! When I awoke it was 8.30, it was just the right time to leave my room and go to Nozliya’s office. 

    And that was when I discovered that it was pouring. I mean not just drizzling as it had been doing yesterday, but bucketing down. Deeply disappointed, I managed to borrow an umbrella from the lady at the Reception Desk who smilingly lent it to me. At about this time, I saw the student, Kudrat, run up with an umbrella for me. I then walked with him to Nozliya’s office where I printed out the essay I needed to analyze as an example of travel writing.

     

Teaching my Second Class:

    At 9.00 am, I entered my class and discovered a whole bunch of new faces. It turned out that yesterday’s class would be divided into two. One part arrived this morning but they were joined by these newcomers. I was very disappointed as my workshop was planned to be taught in stages. If I had new students who had no idea what I had done yesterday, I would first need to catch them up with the ones who had already started on my writing assignment. Like any good professor, I had to think on my feet and I set the new ones to write for ten minutes while I asked the old ones to do some peer-critiquing as we waited for the news ones to catch up. Then a Professor who teaches Russian came to my door and told me that some of her students wanted to take my class and she asked if they could join in. I told her that they were welcome. And so it went on.

     I put up my PowerPoint on screen and after they had written and peer -reviewed for some time with some shuffling and much talking among themselves, I went on to talk about Content or the ‘What’ of Writing. They seemed to enjoy the many examples I gave them. And before we knew it, the time was up and I was getting ready to teach my next batch. Because, yes, I was teaching two classes back to back for a whole 3 hours.

        The same problem prevailed with the second batch: there were students who were present yesterday and others who were seeing me for the first time. I did exactly what I had done with the first batch. 

     At 12 noon, we had an official photography session with the students and the Dean standing by two props—large flag poles with the flags of the US and Uzbekistan placed in front of a large world map. It was also ‘Speak English Day’ on campus and a large number of balloons and decorations were all over the floor of the English Department and students were making every attempt to speak only in English.  It was a good day to be on campus.

     A little later, Nozliya left to teach her class and I was left with a computer on which I tried to find out about the two or three places to which I could go in the course of my sightseeing.  That was when a professor called Aida came into Nozilya’s office and spent the next 45 minutes talking to me about Indian ghazals as a form of poetry. I told her that, from the little I knew, ghazals are songs—lyrics set to music—and sung in a particular type of melodious tone. They are usually love songs in Hindi or Urdu—unlike she said, ghazals, as she understands them in Persian, that are exclusively religious, devotional songs. She is a professional translator who is a professor at this university, currently finishing up her Ph.D.dissertation.

     When Nozilya returned from class, she and I set off for lunch. It was about 2.00 pm and I was ready for a meal although I had nibbled on caramel wafer rolls and chocolate during the break. 

     

Eating a Horse at Plov Lunch at Osh Paz!

     Nozliya told me she was taking me to eat plov—this is the traditional, best-known Uzbek festive dish—usually served on celebratory occasions such as weddings and graduations. We found a taxi and a taxi driver who recommended a place that presumably had the best traditional plov in the city.  And there we were taken to Osh (plov is called Osh in Russian) where there was outdoor seating available.  However, on a day when it continued to pour, it was good to sit inside—far warmer and cozier—as we ordered traditional round Uzbek bread studded with black sesame seeds and plov—two servings of it with lemon tea (which is a traditional accompaniment).

     You might have guessed by now that plov is a derivation of the word pullao or pilaf or pilau—a rice and meat layered concoction that arrived in India from Central Asia through Turkistan through Timur (the Lame or Tamerlane). Here in Uzbekistan, it is made with long-grain rice cooked in lamb fat and flavored with spices (I spied cloves and peppercorns) and vegetables like yellow carrots, chick peas, raisins and onions. Shredded lamb is then placed in a crown at the very top. There was a bit of sausage at the side and I asked Nozilya what it was and she told me it was Horse-meat!

     So I literally ate a horse for lunch! The horse meat sausage was delicious and if you hadn’t told me so, I would never have known what I was eating! The plov was delectable—highly flavorful and needless to say, very very filling. I really did feel as if I had eaten a horse when I got up from the table. With raita and tomato salad, it was a very filling meal and I had only just tasted the bread. The lemony tea made a fab accompaniment, I have to say, and I found myself sipping far more than I would have liked, given my caffeine intolerance.

Off On a Sight Seeing Jaunt:

     Two young students, Ozod and Jowahid, had been assigned the task of escorting me around the city on the first of what I hoped would be exciting sight seeing jaunts. As always happens, the local people have never seen the sights of their own city and these young chaps did not have a clue. When I told them that I wanted to go to the Moyie Mubarak Library Museum, they hailed a cab and spoke in Uzbek to the driver who seemed to know where he was going. He ended up taking us to a brand-new architectural complex at which there was not a soul. The rain drummed down annoyingly as we walked up to a confection of grand gateways, minarets, domed mosques, etc. beautifully decorated with tile work, only to find out that the entire complex was closed. Apparently, it is still under construction—although I rather doubt it as the shop was fully stocked and definitely up and running (although all closed today).

Exploring Hast Imam Square:

     Not to be daunted, we hopped into another taxi and this time, my escorts asked the driver to take us to the most famous square in the city, Khast Imom Square (also pronounced Hast Imam). This place buzzed with tourist traffic. There were large groups of elderly Frenchmen and women who had a local guide that was speaking to them in French and explaining things to them. 

     The Square is another confection of domed structures, mausoleums, minarets and arched corridors. We entered a mosque that was all shut up. Prayer time sees huge carpets run along the floor. The guard told us that the biggest attraction of this complex was behind the building in which we found ourselves.

Seeing the Uthman (Osman) Koran:

     So the biggest attraction (pun intended) of the complex is the Uthman or Osman Koran—supposedly the largest one in the world. It was created for Ustman, also known as Osman, the third Caliph, in the 14th century and was brought to Samarkhand by Timur (whose name is synonymous with Samarkhand). It was whisked off by the Soviets to Russia in 1868 and returned to Samarkhand in 1924 by Lenin in a gesture of goodwill. It was obviously subsequently brought here to Tashkent where this little library was created for it, The library has an exquisite turquoise blue ribbed dome which was architecturally enchanting. 

     The Koran is enormous—it is bound in deer-skin and created on parchment pages. The case that holds it is air-conditioned and is placed upon a gigantic black marble cube that resembles the Kaaba. The inside of this little library is decorated in exquisite light blue painted details on multiple domes. I saw a lot of female tourists from neighboring Tajikistan dressed in traditional clothing who stood reverentially in front of the Koran and prayed together.  Many male tourists who followed them did the same. Around the main hall that contains this Koran are smaller niche-like rooms where a vast number of Korans in different global languages and in varied forms of binding are placed for visitors to see. There are 30 to 40 rare 14th to 17th century books in this collection. In addition to the huge Osman Koran, there is a tiny thumb-sized one that fits in a leather amulet case—very interesting indeed. 

     Next to the library is the 1856 Telyashayakh Mosque but not many visitors go in there. Instead, they head to the back of the mosque where a shopping center attracts a lot of tourists—there are a number of artisan shops here selling Uzbek souvenirs: I saw rugs and wall hangings, caps, cloaks, ceramics, lacquer boxes, etc. I looked for magnets and found tons of them although there were no postcards at all. I bought magnets for Uzbekistan, Tashkent and Samarkhand in the one place in which I found the ‘flexi’ style that we have been collecting. I did not find one in the same style for Bukhara but I shall buy it when I get there.

     

Off to Chorsu Bazaar:

     As it was still pretty early, my escorts suggested we get to Chorsu Bazaar—this is on the edge of the Old city and is most unusual in that it represents a vast market-place that sells everything you would need for cooking—all under a massive green and turquoise dome with several smaller domes scattered around. This is Chorsu Bazaar. I noticed, pretty quickly, that so many of the words we use in Urdu or Hindi are used here (such as Bazaar for market, saboon for soap, zindagi for life, kanoon for law, Shakar for sugar), etc. Obviously, they all have their roots in Persian that was brought to India by the Moguls through Timur whose great great grand-son Babur founded the Mogul Empire that flourished through his base in Delhi. 

     Inside, Chorsu bazaar was fascinating. There were mountains of spices like turmeric and saffron, piles of fruits and vegetables. I saw cherries most unusually arranged, loads of ruby-red strawberries (none seemed to have been genetically modified), orange-skinned lemons, sacks of rice, piles and piles of sweets and biscuits and chocolates that are eaten with the oceans of tea they drink, rustic breads of a vast variety made in the adjoining bakery that was filled with domed tandoori ovens. Under the main dome, there was meat (whole carcasses of lamb and beef), oxtail, kidneys, liver and the famous horse-sausage. Chickens of varied sizes from regular ones to small quails and eggs (also of various sizes and color and from various birds including quails are abundant. (I had a quail egg also with my plov). I found everything absolutely fascinating. Later on, I wished I had picked up some of the individually wrapped sweet confections as they would make good gifts to take back home to Dad and Russel and later also to Llew (when I meet him next month in South America).   

     

Riding Tashkent’s Metro System:

     This was a good point to take the Metro and my escorts led me to the Chorsu Market metro stop from where they purchased a ticket for me for 1200 som (about 80 cents). I was given a plastic token to drop into a slot at the turnstile and then we were going down an escalator that reminded me very much of the ones in St. Petersburg and on to the platform that was stunningly decorated. 

     And here is why I wanted to ride the metro: the stations are truly works of art, decorated profusely with the grand ceramic tile work for which this country is famed. The Chorsu station was not that great but we had to make a change and get to the Alisher Navoyi Station, the University’s Station, which was filled with jade-green ceramic motifs featuring the six books that the national writer, Alisher Navoiy, wrote.  They were collected together in a single work called the Khamsa. He is the best known of the Uzbek writers (he is from the 15th century) and is revered among his people. Truly the station had to be seen to be believed—you would not for a minute dream that you were in a metro station. I kept thinking of our disgusting New York City ones that are so filthy and so repulsive. 

    Making a change of line brought us into yet another station where the walls were fully decorated with mosaic floral motifs and the pillars were equally striking. I would imagine that if one had the time, one could go on the metro and get off at each station to be fully delighted by the ingenuity of the decoration and the strong aesthetic sense of these lovely people.    

In a Modern Shopping Mall Called Next:

     My escorts were leading me to Next, a modern shopping mall, so that I could buy the Caramel filled wafer cigars that I wanted to take home to Dad and Russel. This brought me into another world—far from the religious traditions of the afternoon—mosques and Korans and minarets—I was in a contemporary world surrounded by shops like L’Occitane and Forever 21 with a range of Uzbek designer names and brands. We found the supermarket from which I did buy my confections as well as apricot pulp that is dried and rolled up into sheets—in India, the same thing is made from mango pulp and called Aam sat. 

     I decided to treat my handsome student escorts to gelato and when we found an Italian place that sold some, we sat down (we all needed a rest by this point) to enjoy it. And it was very good indeed.

     We took a taxi back to the University campus from a place that overlooked the other big theater in Tashkent called the Alisher Navoiy Opera and Ballet Theater. This is not as new or impressive as the grander Ilkholm Theater but it is similar in construction and design.

     Back on campus, I was still so stuffed with my plov and gelato that I decided to skip dinner. I had a lot of goodies to eat in my room, should I feel hungry. I told Nozilya not to worry about escorting me for dinner and that she should go home. I found that most of my travel arrangements have been made and that the US Embassy Travel Desk is awaiting confirmation on just one or two more items. Relieved at that knowledge, I picked up my email from the hot zone and went straight to my room. It was almost 7.00 pm and I was tired after another long and eventful day. I had covered a lot of ground for my first day in the city and I looked forward to seeing a couple of the Museums tomorrow.   

     In my room, I thought I would do a spot of reading but in fact, I felt so sleepy that I curled up and had a nap at 7.30 pm and believe me, although I kept waking up several times through the night, I did not really wake up again until 5.30 am the next day! I have not fallen asleep at 7.30 in a very long time and I have not slept for 10 hours straight in an even longer time—so I guess my body needed this rest.

     Until tomorrow...