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Sunday 2004-06-13 - Aşgabat, Turkmenistan
Delivering photographs - with a laugh and a tear
After the animal market outside the walls we head for the market enclosure of the Talkoetsjka bazaar. Aşgabat’s famous tapestry market occupies a big section of it and around here I have some portraits to deliver: photographs I took last time I was here, two years ago. Although I fear I may not find people back, it goes surprisingly well, though not always cheerfully.
The picture of the cheerful young boy soon finds his father, who we see half an hour later still sitting in the same spot, still holding the photograph. Later, I go to the outside of the enclosure where there are some small shops built into the wall, one of them of a friendly instrument maker I took a picture of. The location is easy to find - some half-finished instruments are lying on a low table to prove it — but I don’t see the friendly man on my picture. I show it to the woman sitting behind the table: the result is a loud cry of — surprise? and something else, but I can’t understand her. (I miss our guide Bava, he could have helped by translating but we soon lost him in the crowd.) She calls a younger man over, probably her son, who explains with gestures that the man died last year as a result of a car crash. When I give the picture to the woman she’s obviously both glad and sad at the same time, while the young man can barely control his tears.
Old grandma with her toothless smile is found with the help of a colleague of her: after I’d already given up and given the picture to the woman who obviously recognized her, asking her to deliver it. No need, she suddenly comes back and beckons us: grandma is found, her smile still exactly the same, her surprise even bigger than her smile. One younger woman translates: grandma wants to know what it costs - nothing of course! That earns me two bigs hugs and kisses. It’s a good antidote for the sadness of not finding the friendly instrument maker back. Even the last two pictures ultimately find their respective owners — amidst a score of jealous colleagues.
In the afternoon we tour a number of sites in the city itself, among them the beautiful “Blue Mosque” (built with Turkish financial help and m modeled after the Blue Mosque in Istanbul). Here I took pictures of a Turkmen couple; I’m hoping someone in the mosque or a caretaker will recognize them and be able to deliver the pictures. Not only is there indeed a caretaker who recognizes them — he even remembers our group sitting and chatting with them two years ago! He promises he’ll do his best to deliver the pictures to them: they come here regularly, he says. (I’m glad Bava is with me this time to translate!) Two people in Aşgabat have a little surprise waiting for them…
Alas, our planned visit to the Carpet Museum can’t take place: when we arrive it appears that opening times have changed a short while ago, now it’s closed on Sundays. I’m very disappointed — I had so looked forward to it!
