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Wednesday 2004-06-16 - Bukhara, Uzbekistan
Delivering photographs
On the way to Chor Minor we come past the bread sellers’ spot; the women are back now! My pictures are a great success, and very welcome. Carla takes a few pictures of the whole scene, and the oldest women poses together with me. We also get a delicious bread, still warm. Bukhara bread is the best in all of Central Asia!
On we go, very, very slowly, to Chor Minor. The woman who has a little souvenir shop in the building comes out to open the gate but we gesture we’re not interested and walk on. On the corner, where the family on my pictures (little girl, father the truck driver and grandma) lived, I don’t recognize the home, only the steps in front of where it was. Disappointed, we go to ask the shop lady who takes us back to the corner: the door to the house is now somewhere else, but the mother (the truck driver’s husband) lives there and is very happy with the pictures though a little shy. Carla and I go and sit on a little wall in the shade — mainly to rest my foot: it’s getting very thick now, swelling up over my sandal straps. Just when we decide to go back to the hotel, and maybe have my foot examined, mother comes out again, accompanied by an older girl. The girl turns out to speak English quite well; she is the small girl’s older sister, she explains, and invites us in again. This time, we get tea and delicious home-made sour cherries on syrup. The charming girl is 16, just finished secondary school, and will go to college (“the institute”) in September to become a teacher, she tells. Mathematics is her favorite subject.
