....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.
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Man in Penjikent bazaar |
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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.
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Tajikistan in blue within Central Asia |
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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.
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Friendly seller, Penjikent bazaar |
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Market porter, Penjikent |
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Happy rope seller, Penjikent bazaar |
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A rare unreserved woman, Penjikent bazaar |
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Old Penjikent bazaar |
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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.
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Nothing better than Central Asia bread! |
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Samsa (pastry), Penjikent bazaar |
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Finally found the grog, Penjikent bazaar |
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Vegies galore, Penjikent bazaar |
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Yellow parsnips or carrots, Penjikent bazaar |
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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.
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Man outside Penjikent mosque |
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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
here. It gives an idea of the mentality of the region.
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One of many scarf-tying styles |
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Many Penjikent men have beards |
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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.
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Shy kids in Penjikent backstreets |
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Ornate ceiling in choykhana (tea house), Penjikent |
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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.
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Bus to Shing from Penjikent (before it filled up) |
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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.
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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.
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Tea at Shing homestay(complete with home honey) |
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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.
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He could get used to this! Shing |
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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.
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Daughter of the house, Shing |
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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.
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Meandering tracks in Shing village |
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Exploring the little paths of Shing village |
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Local goat, Shing |
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Typical house, Shing |
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Old doorway in Shing |
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Village gate, Shing |
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Looking south towards Haft-Kul |
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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.
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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.
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Soaking wet Shing girl |
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This unsure look was a common one! |
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A more cheeky little boy, Shing |
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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.
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Waterfall, Upper Shing |
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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.
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We loved these big walnut trees, Rashnar |
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Tree lined track through Rashnar |
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Sharing the load, Rashnar |
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Quiet morning in Rashnar |
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Rashnar village bridge |
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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
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Men and their donkeys, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Resting at Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Reflections in the lake, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Walking along Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Harvesting honey, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Startling colours, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Little friend, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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Made it as far as we could go, Haft-Kul, Tajikistan |
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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.
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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
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Slow train coming, Tajikistan |
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.
ReplyDeleteOn 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.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful phrase: an opal like sheen with golden like flecks from the sun
ReplyDelete