Wednesday, 31 July 2019

FOUR OUT OF SEVEN AINT BAD- Penjikent and Haft Kul, Tajikistan

....previously in Tashkent and Samarkhand, Uzbekistan.....

After the extra few days waiting in Samarkand for our late arriving Tajik visa, we were keen to get moving into Tajikistan. We did so by hiring what we subsequently discovered to be a near blind taxi driver to take us the border between Uzbekistan and Tajikistan, about an hour's drive. As the driver leaned forward and peered with squinted eyes through his Coke-bottle glasses, we became slightly concerned. His habit of swerving out into oncoming traffic and not appearing to see cars turning in front of him was alarming. Richard took to warning him each time there was a car, but this had the unfortunate effect of the driver looking at Rich and swerving into another lane.

Eventually we arrived in one piece at the quiet border and had a very easy time with the welcoming guards on each side (one having the courage to tell Sal she was very beautiful!). Our second taxi driver from the Tajikistan border was playing some lovely gentle Tajik music, and driving like a calm and normal person (ie not a racing car driver or blind person!). Driving through the small villages of the Zerafshan Valley, with the big brown barren Fann Mountains to the south of us, we felt happy to be there. The taxis we hired were only a dollar or two more than the shared vehicles available, and much more roomy.


Man in Penjikent bazaar

Zerafshan Valley scenery



This area of Tajikistan was settled by the pre-Islamic Sogdian people in the 1st century BC, and traces of their civilisation are still to be found in the Zerafshan Valley (and various museums). Tajikistan was later part of the Persian empire, and to this day, their language is closely related to Iran's. Various other invaders took hold over the centuries, before Russia's entry in the 1800s. The 1920s saw the beginnings of an autonomous state, and by 1991 Tajikistan followed the other Central Asian countries to become fully independent. Unfortunately, mainly because of it's geographical position, it has remained one of the poorest former Soviet states.


Tajikistan in blue within Central Asia

The tiny area of Tajikistan we've been travelling in so far


The small town of Penjikent was a great start to the country. The bazaar here was different again from the Uzbek markets, and must have been one of the friendliest we have been to. Every few steps we were approached by people to say hello, or called out to have a photo taken. We noticed that although the men would often sling their arms around Rich for a photo, they were always respectful of Sal. Sometimes women were bold enough to stand with Sal for photo, but usually they were incredibly shy. A few people even gave us gifts of bread, and tastes of various foods.


Friendly seller, Penjikent bazaar

Market porter, Penjikent

Happy rope seller, Penjikent bazaar

A rare unreserved woman, Penjikent bazaar

Old Penjikent bazaar

Beautiful display of pulses, Penjikent bazaar




The root vegetables here were the stand out beautiful produce. We loved the look (and later on the taste!) of the colourful varieties including yellow parsnips, beetroot and deep red turnips. The standard of fruit wasn't quite up to Uzbekistan, but we still scoffed local peaches, plums, apples and nectarines quite happily! Our ice cream fascination continued, with one place serving us free ice cream, as it was apparently the year of the tourist! The attractive entrance to the bazaar was full of non (bread) and samsa (pastrys with meat or potato) sellers, and inside we found a stall selling alcohol, mainly vodka and beer.



Nothing better than Central Asia bread!

Samsa (pastry), Penjikent bazaar

Finally found the grog, Penjikent bazaar

Vegies galore, Penjikent bazaar

Yellow parsnips or carrots, Penjikent bazaar

Entrance to Penjikent bazaar


We arrived in Penjikent on a Friday, and were surprised to see the lovely old mosque absolutely packed with men praying. The whole inside was full, and people were spilling out into the gardens with their prayer mats. We have never seen this before in Central Asia. Our impression has always been that although Central Asia's residents are Muslim, most don't seem to attend mosque regularly. During the long period the area was controlled by Russia, people were forbidden from practising their faith, and as a result, had become less religious in general. We subsequently discovered this part of Tajikistan is one of the more pious parts of Central Asia. Another odd thing was that the prayers were undertaken in complete silence, without broadcast from the loudspeakers. This gave a calm and serene atmosphere. Outside was a different story, with normal life bustling along the busy footpaths, and a large number of gypsy-looking people congregating and begging on steps around the mosque. When we visited the mosque the following day, we were welcomed into the grounds (in short sleeves and shorts), although the main building was locked.


Man outside Penjikent mosque

Gypsy-looking people outside Penjikent mosque



We were stopped in the street often and invited to houses and villages. Not many people spoke English, but occasionally a younger person would be confident enough to engage us in conversation for a little practice.

People mainly looked the same as Uzbek, apart from the style of clothing. Tajik women wore an outfit of a colourful loose tunic and matching trousers- something like an Indian salwar kameez. The scarves on their heads were tied up in convoluted and attractive ways. Some older men had big black leather boots and grey robes to go with their beards and little black hats with white embroidery. We had trouble understanding how these hats actually stayed on, always teetering on the backs of their heads as though they were about to fall off. One old man, who himself was wearing massive leather boots, stood staring at Rich's boots for some time as though they were the strangest thing he had ever seen!

An old, but interesting article about Tajikistan banning black clothes hereIt gives an idea of the mentality of the region.


One of many scarf-tying styles

Many Penjikent men have beards

Various local men's fashions, Penjikent



Other areas, such as adjusting to Tajik practicalities, were trying. The ATMs in town weren't compatible with our bank card and our SIM card decided to stop working. Certain websites were impossible to get on, Skype stopped working and the internet was the worst we have experienced in years. Apparently, this is typical throughout Tajikistan. We realised how easy we have had it travelling in other countries, taking for granted things which are difficult here. But then again, some aspects here are much preferable than other countries, such as the hospitality of the people, so everything evens out. We have become very comfortable in certain places we travel, knowing how different elements work, and it was to take a bit of time to get to that stage in Tajikistan.


Shy kids in Penjikent backstreets

Ornate ceiling in choykhana (tea house), Penjikent

Mouth watering lamb chops at restaurant in Penjikent




Our hotel was quite flash (although we had the cheapest room), but we found the shared shower and toilet facilities disconcerting, with slightly see through doors! It didn't really matter, as we were usually the only ones using them, but we still thought it rather strange!
We couldn't quite make out the motivations of the hotel staff, but hoped they were simply trying to be helpful, which seemed to be the case. They arranged for a shared vehicle to pick us up from the hotel for the drive to our next destination, Seven Lakes, or Haft Kul in Tajik. This string of lakes spread out over 20 kilometres forms the western border to the Fann Mountains, and is yet to make it on most travellers itineraries in Tajikistan. There was not a lot of information about the area, so we decided just to turn up and see what happened.
We were waiting out the front, when a dilapidated old Soviet era truck drove by, and Rich said as a joke "Oh look, there's our lift". Turned out he was right. It pulled up full already with produce (including many watermelons- Central Asians seem to be desperately worried about ever being caught short with no watermelons, which amused us as they are for sale absolutely everywhere!). Luckily we were the first passengers to be picked up and had a choice of seat, as when it got to the bus stand, 18 more people packed in. With our knees intertwined with the unfortunate passengers who had to sit backwards, heads banging the ceiling and windows, and legs bound by boxes, bags and watermelons under our seats, we set off for a bumpy trip to our destination- the village of Shing.


Bus to Shing from Penjikent (before it filled up)

In the back of the share vehicle Penjikent to Shing



We had heard there was flooding around the fourth lake, and no access by vehicle, so we had decided to stop at Shing, several kilometres before the first lake, where we knew there was a homestay. We felt we had made the right decision, as the "bus" trip was uncomfortable (and stopped on the way for more bloody watermelons). After two hours, we were glad to get off.


One of many flooded parts of the road to the last lakes, Haft-Kul



Upon disembarking, we asked a nearby man if he knew the beekeeper who was to be our host, and a minute later a young boy came to meet us and take us up the hill to the rustic village homestay. The extended family of about 20 who lived there looked startled to see us- the majority of tourists stay further along the lakes, and it seemed this lot were not used to backpackers turning up out of the blue. They recovered well, though, and invited us to a quickly arranged rather splendid tea. During our stay here for three days, we came to know some of them a little better, and found them curious about us, funny and hospitable.


Tea at Shing homestay(complete with home honey)

Youngest resident at Shing homestay



We were shown to our simple, but comfortable room with carpets and piles of mattresses. The toilet downstairs was a hole in the floor with two planks across, and the usual accompanying pong and swarm of flies. The proper shower room came compete with hot water and a big window looking out onto the neighbour's bread oven! We enjoyed staying in the family compound and watching the daily goings on. We were invited to lay out on the covered platform with cushions for our tea and meals, which was most relaxing, especially as Rich was treated like a king and brought extra pillows to lie back on! The homestay accommodation in Tajikistan is often organised by the ZDTA organization, and when comparing it to other accommodation, it doesn't present good value for money. For example, we were paying the same for our hotel in Penjikent as we were for the homestay in Shing. But the prices are rather set, and that's just the way it is. We felt we were paying more for the location and experience than for comfort, and didn't begrudge the price at all.


He could get used to this! Shing

Our room at the homestay, Shing




Ruling the roost was granddad (chemist and bee keeper) and his wife, who was chiefly in charge of looking after us. Their sons, daughters and grandchildren all lived there also. None of them spoke a word of English- it was a good test for us all, and we managed with few issues.


Daughter of the house, Shing

Rich and our Shing host



We had two and half glorious days of walking around Shing. The village itself was charming and felt like a step back in time. The road into Shing had been extremely stark and dry, and it was so pleasant to discover a green and quiet oasis of sorts. Stone walled pathways meandered up and down in the shade, with willow, walnuts and what we think were poplars being the most common deciduous trees. People's garden's always had fruit trees- cherries, apricots, apples and mulberries, and we were constantly generously offered some, along with tea. There were a few wafts from the pit toilets in the air, balanced by the fragrance of an aromatic sage-like plant.


Meandering tracks in Shing village

Exploring the little paths of Shing village

Local goat, Shing

Typical house, Shing

Old doorway in Shing

Village gate, Shing

Looking south towards Haft-Kul

Two younsters on the path, Shing




One young girl stopped to watch us as we rested, then when we got going again she walked with us for a while, watching Sal over her shoulder non-stop and smiling the entire time. Trickling irrigation channels, springs and water stand pipes kept things cool along the pathways. One spot with a mini waterfall was a particular favourite with squealing children. They gathered around us, and were delighted when we joined in getting a soaking from the freezing water spout.



Kids having a ball in the heat, Shing


The people, in general, were very shy, especially the kids, which we aren't used to, but we usually managed to get them to warm up and smile or wave at us. Of course, they didn't speak English, but we got by with sign language, pointing and lots of smiles.


Soaking wet Shing girl

This unsure look was a common one!

A more cheeky little boy, Shing

Young girl in Tajik outfit, Shing




One family invited us for choy (tea) in their little tea house in the garden. Luckily there was a man present who spoke a little English for small talk. They asked us where we were staying and how much we were paying, and were horrified when we said. Immediate offers of a free bed in the tea house ensued, and we had to try to explain we had already organized to stay with the bee keeper that night and leave the following morning. Many food items kept appearing to be eaten along with the freshly baked non we had been presented with, including one very sweet tasting concoction apparently made with mulberries, but tasting like molasses.
We ventured up into the hills as far as our legs would take us, and were surprised how far-removed some of the houses were. Finally, we left the “residential” area and kept going until a waterfall with boulders became a good resting point, and then a good turning around point.



Waterfall, Upper Shing

Good place for a rest, Upper Shing


On our first evening, after dinner, we retired to our room for a bit of a read before an early night. We were surprised when the ladies of the house bustled in, look around, babbled and pointed to each other, then plonked down the piles of doonas and pillows they had brought up for us. They smiled and indicated for us to spread out and be comfortable, and then left as abruptly as they had arrived. Ten minutes later, a young boy arrived to show how to switch on the disco blue light in the room they may have been proud of. We slept with our doors and windows open due to the warm nights, never worrying about security. During the night the temperature dropped to the coolest temperature we have experienced so far.

After some slightly awkward planning with the family, we arranged for a free lift with the son up to the next village, Rashnar, one morning, and a time we hoped he would pick us up again. We wanted to walk as far as could to the flooded fourth lake, but weren't sure if we could make it the entire way from Shing and back again. It worked out perfectly and we had a fantastic, but tiring day walking up and down the valley.

Rashnar village was gorgeous, with it's shady little road lined with stone walls, mature walnut trees and alongside the raging river and people's quite basic mud brick houses. Small bridges made from such inventive materials as truck chassis and railways lines spanned the river, although many had been swept away in the floods.


We loved these big walnut trees, Rashnar

Tree lined track through Rashnar

Sharing the load, Rashnar

Quiet morning in Rashnar

Rashnar village bridge

Young Rashnar woman



As we walked further, we saw less people and only the occasional car or 4WD with day trippers. Views of the gushing river running down the gorge from the melted snow in the mountains in the distance were splendid. The walk uphill along the four lakes was wonderful and we were in awe at the clear transparency and jewel like colours of the water. It ranged from dark blue to turquoise, an opal like sheen with gold flecks from the sun and a bright emerald green. We felt like we had them all to ourselves most of the time, although lake three was the exception, with an unfortunate rubbish-laden camping and picnic area. It must be said, this was being used mainly by locals. But, as this is a rarity in this part of the world, we didn't let it spoil the experience. By the time we reached the fourth lake, we collapsed for a bit on a rock for a wee picnic, and watched a local family trying to navigate the flood waters spilling over the road. The walk back was every bit as lovely, and the sun on the water changed the colour of the lakes yet again.
Note: The colours of the pictures have not been enhanced- this is truly as they appeared


Men and their donkeys, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Resting at Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Reflections in the lake, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Walking along Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Harvesting honey, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Startling colours, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Little friend, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Made it as far as we could go, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan

Little livestock enclosure built into the hill, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan




We really enjoyed our meal that night! The food was delicious at the homestay- especially considering we were kind of in the middle of nowhere. Lamb, potatoes, chick peas, plov, non, and salads with fresh herbs from the garden were the recurring theme. The aforementioned root vegetables served in a soup were a particular highlight, and we thought we might have to re-evaluate our view of Central Asian meals. The honey from the bee hives on the property was a lovely addition to breakfast. At every meal we were gently scolded for not eating enough, even though we did our best with the huge portions.


Example of delicious homestay dinner, Shing



We said a sad goodbye to the family and found a seat on the increasingly crowded big orange bus to Penjikent. Although it was absolutely packed with people heading off to the early morning market, and the sidewards facing seats were less than comfortable, we actually enjoyed the trip. We couldn't help wondering, however, what it would be like coming back in the afternoon when everyone is loaded up with market shopping!


Following is some practical information for accommodation and transport for Haft-Kul

Accommodation:
Penjikent Umariyon Hotel 207 som/US$22 including breakfast
Shing Homestay Guldara 94 som/US$10 per person including breakfast + 47 som/US$5 each for dinner

Transport:
Tajikistan border to Penjikent, taxi, 37 som/US$4, 20 minutes
Penjikent to Shing, share marshrutka, 25 som/US$2.65 each, two hours
Shing to Penjikent, bus, 7 som/US$0.75 each, one and a half hours


Slow train coming, Tajikistan


3 comments:

  1. Homestay experiences documents a lifestyle only glimpsed through a comparative approach to travel which is nicely captured in this rendition of life on the road in Tajikistan. Depiction 62 with converging lines and symmetry of cliffs works really well with a human subject as contrast to this dynamic landscape shot.

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  2. On some more reflection on this ovure of photography there are a couple of pics in each genera that resonated with me. So for classic traveller lifestyle.30,56,65. Ethnographic context. 6,55. Interpersonal. 5,33. Perspective 23.

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  3. Beautiful phrase: an opal like sheen with golden like flecks from the sun

    ReplyDelete