Bukhara has been transformed (in my imagination) from a resourceful Islamic center of knowledge into something else.It has become a modern city with ruins and remnants of the past,begging for tourist’s money. We were not presented with the current stories of Bukhara but instead the tale of the past punctuated by wars and destructions. The ruins and broken walls have yet to be rebuilt but remained to tell the harsh reality of the modern time. More importantly the abandoned madrasahs
proved that once upon a time the place was filled with students and learned sheikh running around in between lessons. I saw broken windows, dusty alleyways, dirty walls and dark broken halls that I believed to be the place for solah and learning. Even the old mehrab was replaced by kiosk for souvenirs. The sad truth that’s unthinkable to us.
But the many western tourists came for everything other than Islamic heritage. They came for the architecture, design of the old buildings, the sun maybe and also food and wines. They drank heavily at the place where the students used to zikr and learnt hadeeth.
I stopped by the Imam Ghazali mosque, within the vicinity of our hotel, for zuhr prayer. Many came and the hall was about full. A few approached me and tried to speak in Arabic. Ouch! my Arabic is still in level 2 so the conversation didn’t go far. But they were hospitable especially to my wife and her lady friend. Apparently ladies don’t go to the mosque here, no place was prepared for ladies. So they let them pray in the Imam’s room. So far the locals have been nice to us especially when we met them in the mosque. Very humble and when spoken they tried to respond in the most polite way. Everyone said salam by putting their right hand to the chest (so now I know where Malaysian Tourism got that greeting gesture). In Bukhara, people were more like Russians, lighter skin and gingerish hair.
I was on a sleeper train the next morning going to Kheva.The train was old but quite comfortable with relatively high speed (160 km/ h max).The morning sun was shining bright with light chilly breeze which made it very pleasant to start a journey. So we said goodbye to Bukhara hoping for better days ahead for all the people here. Somehow I was proud to be here, at the place where the great Imam Bukhari once lived.
The train ride would take 5 hours and 35 mins. The compartment sleeps four but since there were only three of us one more bed was available. A guy came in and claimed the upper bed. He slept the whole time only made sound when we were too loud. I guess he told us to be quiet so he could sleep. But we didn’t understand him so we continued talking. He finally left.
The landscape outside was mainly desert. Sandy dunes as far as the eyes could see with that little desert plants scattered all over. As we approached Kheva , crops fields started to replace the desert and houses emerged in between the olive trees.
