"Oooze-beka-who?"

At least that's what the customs agent at Logan Airport in Boston asked when we told him where we'd been. "That's Uzbekistan!"  We volunteered that we probably needed to pay some import duties, a fact we had clearly marked on our arrival customs forms.  However, no one had said anything, and so we sought this guy out.
He came back after a long fifteen minutes or so, and told us, "Uh, we think that may be one of those countries for which the US is trying to encourage its economy.  You guys are free to go."  The more likely bet is that he couldn't find anything out.  Or had a doughnut.  Anyway, we were honest in our dealings with our fellow man.
So why did we think we qualified for import duties?  Oh, boy...
Our daughter Ashley lives in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, with her 6.3 children and diplomat husband, who is with the U.S. embassy there.  Having such a gang/family, they qualified for a big enough house, and lucked out with a swimming pool.

That's a good thing, as Tashkent has a central-Asian desert climate, and in the summer, the temperatures push past 110 degrees Fahrenheit at times.  Ashley advised us to come during a "shoulder" month, so we arrived the last day of April, just in time to celebrate her third daughter's fifth birthday.  She chose a trip to the amusement park.

Paula must be part Uzbek, as evidenced by the way she drove the bumper cars.

Brandon very kindly agreed to let Ashley take us on a five-day visit to the ancient (and I'm talking 'since before written history' or 2,000 years, whichever is longer) Silk Road cities of Khiva, Bukhara and Samarkand.  They were each founded as oases along one of the several camel/horse/foot routes from China to Europe, and served as fortresses against various marauders through the ages.

They offered caravanserai to the desert-weary travelers, places to rest and feed themselves and their animals and refuel for the next part of the journey.

These cities were overrun and taken over by a Who's Who list of conquerors through the ages, from Alexander the Great, to Tamerlane, to Genghis Khan, to the Russians during the time of the Czars.  By that time, the glorious buildings of various rulers had fallen in to ruin.

The region became part of the Soviet Union in the 1920's and as the fronts of WWII moved westward, it became a refuge for the Soviet war industry.

In the 1960's and 70's, the historic worth of the ancient cities began to be apparent, and restoration was begun by the Soviet Union.  Although criticism as been brought against some of their techniques, that restoration continues even today, with many of the cities declared UNESCO World Heritage Sites with some accompanying funding.

The second ruin above, the mosque of Tamerlane, now looks like this:

A caravanserai now restored, has become a series of workshops and small stores.

The Registan in Samarkand, with its three madrasahs, or Islamic centers of learning, now echoes its remarkable past.

The visit to these places was nothing short of amazing.  Ashley's Guide Service, of which Ashley is the sole proprietor and guide was great.  Whether because of her present pregnancy or the feebleness of her aging parents, the pace was perfect.  

Yeah, that thing above was a minaret we climbed.  On hands and knees.  One misstep and there would have been 3.3 mangled infidels at the bottom of the stairs.

We climbed over and around and through some amazing stuff.  That cut-off tower in the picture below was the beginning of a super-duper-colossal minaret ordered built by one of the hundreds of rulers of Khiva. However, he died during its construction, and everyone said, "Yeah, nah, never mind," and left it unfinished. 

Ashley Tours included an after-dark personalized tour of the ancient walls of Khiva.  We asked if this was legal, and the proprietor/tour guide said, "Yep. As far as you are aware."

Restored or not, so much was just incredible.  It spoke to the preservation of the ability to make such beautiful things even today.

OK, so what was that whole 'customs' thing?  Fortunately or otherwise, depending on whether you're us and the merchants in Uzbekistan or the guy who takes care of our retirement, the making of beautiful things continues to this day.  This is a young woman at a loom making a silk rug; her work for a rug this size may take 6-8 months, with 300-400 knots of silk fiber in every square inch.

Resist?!  Hah!  This beautiful shimmering silk carpet cried out "Meni sotib oling! Meni sotib oling!"*

(*Uzbek for "Buy me! Buy me!") and so we did.  The pattern is to suggest the inside of the domed ceiling of a mosque.  

And this is where a merchant successfully tempted Paula with a rug made from camel neck hair (you know, where the sun doesn't coarsen it) and silk.

Gorgeous carved and enameled brass?  Of course!

So, with this and a 'few' other things in our heavy suitcases, we tried to turn ourselves in at customs in Boston.  We really did try.  

Arriving back in Tashkent from the ancient cities and rescuing Brandon from the kids, we took a hike in the mountains with him and them.

We stopped to eat apricots and play in the cold water, 

then had lunch at a little place in the hills.  Shishkabobs and cucumber/onion/tomato salads in a cool tapchan over a little stream was as sublime as six kids from two to twelve could offer.

Near the end of our two+ week stay, Ashley took us and the kids to a little resort in the mountains on the border with Kyrgyzstan.

See the snow remnants on the mountains?  I think they directed the runoff straight in to the pool, and it was only on a dare that I swam several lengths.

Ashley Tours usually involves a hike of some sort, and this part of the trip was no exception.

Back to driving in Uzbekistan (see "Crazy Grandmother in bumper car" above).  It was easy to notice that 90% of the vehicles were white Chevrolets!  It's supposed to be the Heartbeat of America, not Uzbekistan!

Brandon explained that GM had bought the Korean carmaker Daewoo, and their factory in Uzbekistan supplies most of the cars in the country.  Not counting the aging Ladas from Soviet times.

The time finally came to pack up and head home.  All was fine until they found a lady who could kind of speak English at the airport who informed us, "You cannot take these carpets out of Uzbekistan because you have no certificates that they are not antiques."  With only an hour before flight time, Paula melted down, until the nice lady said, "We do not want you to be sad.  Next time you come to Uzbekistan, make sure and get certificate," and she let us through.

We hope that you have more great adventures, but more self control about Beautiful Things.

Dave & Paula