2009-08-30

Rolling into Bukhara was a welcomed event after a few weeks in a very hot, arid and frankly dull part of the world. Bukhara is an oasis not only physically, but emotionally as well. There is an old part of town that dates back farther than I can count with small alleys, passages and walkthroughs-most too narrow for any car to reasonably pass. This old town is replete with madrasahs, or schools/workshops/centers that specialize in different areas. One madrasah might be a school/workshop for carpets, another for instruments, another for Islamic theology. This was also the capital city of a kingdom which ruled for centuries and was a center of Muslim culture in Central Asia. The result is a wealth of stunning architecture nicely compacted into a central core where cars are absent and a quiet pace of life persists. Needless to say it was very relaxing.

On my second day wandering the streets amongst sand-colored buildings, I ran into a Frenchman likewise strolling along. It turns out Sylvain is an ethnomusicologist who has been in town 6 weeks researching, learning and interacting with the local musicians. Warmly, he invited me tag along with him the better part of a week as he rushed around town to meet this musician, record that musician, rendez-vous with instrument makers and stop every 5 minutes to shake hands and chat with locals on the street that he had befriended during his stay. To be brief, it was a tremendous fortune to spend time with Sylvain and peer into the real life of Bukhara's residents, particularly the musicians.