Chor Bakar

We walked over to a sort of Bokhari museum, then through an amusement park, looked at the remains of the city walls and then grabbed a bus to Chor Bakar where 4 descendents of Hazrat Abu Bakar are buried. The book mistakenly says that it is Hazrat Abu Bakar himself buried there, but in reality it is 4 of his descendents. There was beautiful tilework and a mosque there besides the graves.

Mubinjan

The next day we put on a short performance for the people at the guesthouse. We had a great time with the owner and her family, eating and talking the night before and they had requested that we play some for the owner's sister's birthday. We gladly did so, after a nice breakfast and then hopped on a train to Bukhara. It was still not too late once we got to Bukhara, so we found a place to stay in a simple, but beautiful old home owned by an old man named Mubinjan. We met some of the other guests and it turned out they were cooking Pilov together that night with Mubinjan. They were all travellers from different countries as well. We were graciously invited. We had limited time there so we wanted to quickly head out to see the city, but decided that we would look for some good dessert to bring back.Omar and I left our things there and head out, walking through beautiful restored Zikr khanas, mosques, tombs, caravansaras etc, but all had been transformed into giftshops. So while the original purpose of these sites had been lost, they did manage to keep the high caliber of workmanship and crafts alive through these shops. There were beautiful handicrafts, pottery, puppets, paintings, calligraphy, woodwork etc. It was all really amazing and of a very high quality. These may have been souvenir shops, but the crafts they sold were not junk like I had seen in some places. It was actually a lot of fun to look at all the beautiful work that people had on display. Besides that, we were walking through all kinds of beautiful architecture. Most of the sites in Bukhara were closer together and very near where we were staying, so we managed to see a good majority of it before making a last ditch effort to find some dessert to take back, having failed to find any traditional sweets. We walked around looking for halwa or baklava for quite a while, following all kinds of directions until we were led to a home where we met a family who were really excited to have us read the script written on a tape of a famous Afghan musician, which we did. They offered to make us halwa the next day, but there was nothing today, so instead their son showed us the way to a general store where we could buy chocolate cake.There, Omar and I bought a tray of assorted chocolate cake slices and walked back to the guest house. Everyone else had eaten and was sitting around enjoying some conversation by the time we returned. We presented the cake, and it was put to one side as they made room for a spread of food for us. The pilov was delicious. Lamb, rice, carrots, cooked to where each morsel of rice was rich with flavor. There were backpackers from France, Russia, Italy etc all sitting around a table talking and laughing and enjoying the very charismatic Mubinjan's stories as translated by Sergei, who was from Russia. Mubinjan did not speak English, but he knew a handful of words and used so much expression, body language and sounds to tell stories that captivated us all. There was a real sense that the coming together of this group of people was a special and sweet occasion. This was not a man out to make as much money as possible. He enjoyed being around giving people and enjoyed giving to all of us as well. Our experiences at other hostels or guest houses varied. There were places we made friends and places we did not, but none was like this where the owner and all the guests sat together in such warmth. I felt like we were really a part of something rare and special even for that place and it seemed everyone else did too.We talked and laughed late into the night, before everyone turned in.

Bukhari, Gulmeera and the kids

The next day, Omar and I decided to head outside of town to the tomb of Ismail Bukhari; a well known Muslim scholar credited with the most reliable compilation of the Prophet Muhammad's sayings and examples from his life (hadith).

The guide book got us to the general area where we were supposed to get a bus to the tomb. Once there it took a bit of asking and waiting and some false leads, before a very helpful boy at a general store in the area made it his purpose to get us a fair price on a minibus (mashrutka) headed to our destination. Omar and I were very grateful for the help. At last we were on our way.In front of us sat a woman with two small children. We didn't have a common language, but somehow we all became friends. She told us about how she was also going to the tomb to pray for her son who I believe had health issues while growing up. He seemed fine now, but she was going to make a prayer for his health. We all got off at the same stop, outside the tomb. The woman's name was Gul Meera and she was only a year older than me, with her sons Islam and Ismail. She had so much personality and she was so much fun, joking with us and really just willing to put in the effort to communicate with the two of us who did not speak her language. I decided in my mind that I wanted to see the tomb, but I wanted to do so with our new friends.

We walked in and had our photo taken by a guy in the courtyard. We would pick up prints later. After that, Omar asked where we could perform wadu (washing before prayer). We head over there, with Gulmeera and the kids in tow. They waited while we prepared for Namaz (prayer). Omar and I finally came out and all of us walked over to the mosque in the complex. Gulmeera held on to the little one, while Islam, Omar and I went in to pray. We stood side by side and prayed. I could see Islam out of the corner of my eye copying us, but not knowing how to say Muslim prayers. Gulmeera had mentioned that she had learned to read some Arabic when she was very young, but did not really know how to all that much. She was like many who identified very closely to Islam, but did not really know the rituals and practices, due to years under Soviet rule when all of that was forced underground and taken from people.

Omar went on to pray with the jamaat (group prayer) as it started and I stuck around with Islam and had him repeat a surat (passage from the Quran) after me. Then I taught him a few simple things and prayed some more with him following. My point wasn't to teach him religion, but just seeing him trying to participate, I wanted to take some time out and help him participate. That made it fun for me too, just so he need not feel like an outsider.

He was a really nice kid. Again, we had no common language, but gestures and a few words and sounds seemed to work well enough. He too was very patient and just a really nice kid, so it felt good to try and share something with him.

Afterwards, the three of us stepped out into the courtyard and continued around it with Gulmeera and tiny tot Ismail. He looked very serious, but was just about the cutest kid ever.

We walked around, admiring how beautiful the tile work and architecture was. Ismail Bukhari's mazaar had a very different feel than the former mosques and former places of Islamic learning that were now just empty tourist sites. This was a place still serving its intended purpose. People still remembered this man and came to pay their respects and say prayers. All of that made for a much more beautiful experience.

The work around the tomb itself was particularly stunning. After walking all the way around, we walked through a museuem of Qurans and gifts from visiting dignitaries. Gulmeera and I read some arabic together. She smiled a lot and it really felt to me like I was hanging out with a sister and nephews rather than some strangers. The kids were very sweet and we took turns holding a bag, and keeping our water bottles etc in it as I would with someone I had known for years or my own family.

We got the prints from the photographer and then walked out to catch the bus.

Gulmeera invited us to eat lunch at her home and I was very tempted, just to spend more time with these wonderful people. We also wanted to see some other important sites though, and we were limited on time, so we told her we wanted to go to the Prophet Daniel's tomb also. A part of me hesitated, because I knew it would be an ordeal to figure out how to get to it, but when else would I be there. Gulmeera just smiled and said sure, we'll go there too. She negotiated with the bus driver to take us there once the other passengers had left.

We went there, walked up the hill and spent some time in the tomb, drank some holy water and just enjoyed being there. Legend has it that the Prophet's body grows every year and so they enlarge the tomb every so often. Afterwards we head to a bazaar, and walked around until we found a spot to eat. We walked around some neighborhoods looking for the Jewish quarter, happened upon some interesting buildings that may have been a part of it and then walked back to the bazaar. The whole time, Gulmeera and the kids were happily along for the adventure. Islam was borrowing my camera and taking photos, I was hangin' with Ismail and it was some of the most fun I had on the trip.

Back in the bazaar we walked around and found a place to eat. We played some music, ate some food, laughed, ate some more and then walked outside where we soon parted ways, all of us a bit sad at leaving.

Omar and I made our way back to the art place where we had met some painters the day before. We had promised to try and return with some music and I was supposed to check out one budding animaters drawings. So we came in with Omar's drumb, got some people out, including many passerbyes and played some songs. I met up with the boy and he gave me a photocopy with a bunch of drawings. He was obviously talented and it was fun to see his work.

From there we head back to the guest house where we played music some more for the owner and her family before going to bed.