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Show The Park Kecord B section H to an ancient city on the Silk Route to the Far East Continued from B10 from the sand. All its decoration was accomplished by the brick patterns. We visited a large complex of Muslim architecture which contained a very high brick minaret. It was said it also served as the instrument for public executions. The offender was thrown from the top platform to go splat in front of the crowd below. Sounds awful, which it was intended to be, but probably gentle compared with the burning at the stake, flaying and drawing and quartering going on in civilized countries like England. We also passed by the "Ark" or ancient fortress of the Emirs of Bokhara. Our guide didn't even mention it. Fitzroy Maclean in Portrait of the Soviet Union says, "Above the dusty expanse of the Regis tan looms the thousand-year-old Ark or Citadel, containing within its fortifications a tangle of tumble-down palaces, mosques, harems and offices... You enter the Ark by a steep, dark, winding passageway, flanked on either side by sinister-looking guardrooms, torture chambers and cells for prisoners, and leading to the courtyard where the Emir's throne still stands. After months of imprisonment, the two envoys had been consigned to a well, full of vermin and reptiles." Sounds like Harrison Ford in Raiders of the Lost Ark, no? I think they have just begun to realize the promotional and historic value of these places for tourists. This bypassed thousand year old Ark could have been the grizzly highlight of our tour. We did have quite a remarkable and instructive visit to a museum set in the former private residence of the first president of the Republic of Bokhara. It would be to Bokhara what Mount Vernon is to the United States. The house was entered through a large courtyard that had served to welcome caravans. Up on the colonnaded porch surrounding the courtyard we were given the history and description of how the house functioned. Then we were led into the men's gathering room and into the women's gathering room. Finally we assembled in the main halt set with low tables with tea ' and sweets. Of course, we must remove shoes before entering each of the handsome rooms. The decoration in these rooms was memorable. The window frames and shutters were natural wood, maybe cedar or teak, whereas the walls and ceiling were stark white background covered with delicate, but brilliantly colored hand-painted tracery of flowers. Most of the walls were a matrix of little niches shaped to echo the forms of the precious art objects that they held. The wooden floors were covered with priceless oriental rugs in rich deep colors. The whole effect might be considered feminine, but it was splendid. The curator entertained us by asking for a volunteer lady to be dressed in the typical costume of the caravan days. This was carefully done, and when at last the subject was fully clad, she became in our eyes a ravishing princess. But this was not the last touch! The attendants brought the purdah, a big black cloak that covered our beauty completely. She was then dressed to go out. A man was then asked to volunteer and he was also dressed in authentic garb including sword and scabbard from the museum collection. We learned how to wind a turban as we had occasionally seen in the streets. He needed no black cloak, he could go about in his dashing outfit This friendly visit to a restored home of an important national leader completed a feeling of the reality of living in this fabled city. This is what travel is all about. We were to fly to Tashkent from Bokhara by commuter plane, rather than return by tour bus the way we had come. Although it would be a short hour-long flight, none of us was looking forward to it Previous experience told us that we would spend hours being checked in and out before the flight and long periods of waiting in the plane, even though there was no traffic to hold us up, and when we arrived at our destination similar exasperating waits in reverse order. Our fears were confirmed in spades. The variation this time was that we spent over a half hour standing on the tarmac waiting tq board the plane. I have the suspicion this was caused by some officials who were late getting to the airport and they were able to have this flight held up for them. Once we got in the air the flight was quite interesting, as the small plane didn't fly at such high altitude. Most of the flight was over desert with just small areas of green. We flew over large bodies of water in the desert, probably reservoirs for irrigation. It wasn't until we approached Tashkent that we were to see extensive green fields. This flight proved that there is a lot of desert in Uzbekistan compared with all the argricultural land we had driven through. When we were ultimately processed through the Tashkent Airport, along with a case of champagne that our guide had shipped with us, we were delivered to the Hotel Uzbekistan, the very one which the American expatriate from Tashkent had told us would be our hotel. Ludmilla went through her usual performance of waving her hands and pounding on the counter to get our rooms assigned. Everybody got keys except for Jackie and me. Ludmilla had to go back to the desk for more histrionics to get a room for us. Tashkent is a city of over two million, remote from central Russia. Both the hotel and the city proved to be comfortable and intriguing. Buxom Bosomed Bokhara Warm body with full breasts Uplifted on every building, Bokhara lying in fertile valley Remote outpost of the West Awaits for concourse with the Caravans from the Far East. Bokhara, Babushka who bears the Desert heat, dares the traveler To reach east, and the oriental Merchant to venture west. Bokhara, forbidden city, welcomes The stream of silk laden caravans, Always taking what she can from East to west and west to east. Jim Powell Bokhara, JuneJ9$l r7 - n , i . . v ' 1 ..-' . . ' - - : , -r'" , -, v- ' "V, V' " " r x ' ;v ' !; .w 4. - t , S t "' 44 ' ' . ' . .-P. ..: '' ... -. v ' - ' r -. -J , i ' - ' v ; 1 . Xj. - V.1 :. .,, X.. f r ' """ 1 ; , ji , -..-- .- rfMh...- - ',fc;..,-...,v. n. .iA.J A.-.'l.i. Anything but camera shy, these children at a Muslim school in Bokhara obliged us with their radiant smiles. Alexs Restaurant incites yon to join us for 'Harly 'birb dpectab Inclines 5abtb, Entree b Vcsscrt $ Q 9$ "Open Tontflht b 'E?ery 'Night 't tuckeb in m 442 fK dm U1 mm mm mtr jw. .1,. ff' Still &ntfSffi$if OSfi 8i & GJiJifj li tiiffl M' ($ ft! 1 1 4 'Vl j- il : a- - urn-"- - nn" .J) ..-5 J , All ? . . 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