Bukhara: A Fabled Desert Oasis Along the Silk Road

Bukhari men dressed in goat-hair robes and wearing embroidered skullcaps, walk past street vendors.

When Genghis Khan and his bloodthirsty Mongolian warriors approached Bukhara's mud-brick walls, the inhabitants found themselves, literally, between a rock and a hard place. Defend the city for a shah whom they loathed, or swing open the gates with the hope of being spared the sword by the self-proclaimed "Scourge of God." They chose the latter, and their prayers were quickly dashed as Genghis Khan announced from the pulpit of a musalla: "If you had not committed great sins, God would not have sent a punishment like me upon you."

Bukhara soon found its men butchered, its women raped, its treasures stolen, and its mud-brick walls in flames.

I arrived at Bukhara's Ark Fortress to a more auspicious welcome than did Genghis Khan, with a " Salaam Alaikum"; the slight bow with hand across the heart. And just like the merchants who traded along the Silk Road in the centuries before me, I was tired, hungry, and searching for a place to stay.

Bukhara is a desert oasis located strategically along the Silk Road with neighboring cities Khiva, Merv, Samarkand, and Kabul. "The physical layout of the city of Bukhara and life on its streets had hardly changed in over one thousand years. The town is a cramped and claustrophobic labyrinth of blind alleys, introspective courtyards and narrow streets flooded by a steady stream of laden camels, tottering arba carts, nobility on horseback and turbaned merchants. The walls, streets and tombs merged and the flat roofs so dense that it seemed one could cross the city walking from roof to roof."

Walking around the shakhristan today, it is easy to understand why Bukhara remains such an attractive site to the visitor. Women dressed in colorful blue and mustard shoyis and atlases bustle about its narrow alleys. And while many men have adopted the more modern style of clothes, the coat and trousers, there are still those who choose to roam the old city wearing long robes made from goat hair or now, most likely, velvet.

While history has not been particularly kind to Bukhara, there are signs that the future will be bright. Bukhara has begun dusting off its old city walls and making great strides at developing tourism, "historical tours" in particular with small groups coming primarily from France, Spain, Italy, and Japan. I was amazed at the proficiency in English, Spanish, and French of the local guides.

My own visit to Bukhara climaxed with an evening meal with Mirfaiz, affectionately called by many of the locals and visitors alike as "The Spice Guy." Mirfaiz opened the Spice Route Tea Shop from his home, located near the Kalon Mosque, which has been in his family for generations.

I joined his family for an evening meal, Bukhari-fashion, with his wife and two lovely daughters, whom had begun early during the day preparing plov. This is the national dish of Uzbekistan and each province has its own special recipe. Mirfaiz explained to me that plov is cooked in sheep fat and consists of rice, carrots, onions, raisons, almonds, and breasts of quail, chunks of mutton, and various spices such as cumin, turmeric, and saffron. His wife opened a bottle of local wine, which was a bit too sweet for me, but it accompanied well the grand assortment of food constantly appearing on the table. First came the bread ( non)-a wheat flower dough sprinkled with sesame seeds and baked in a clay oven. The bread was still warm when the girls put it on the table with a plate of salted tomatoes and cucumbers. Then followed bowls of chickpea soup and a large bowl of yogurt with chopped chives and cucumbers. Next, a cold meat platter with horsemeat sausage. The plov arrived at the table still steaming. During the meal I sipped green tea, which helped to digest the greasy food. Finally a brass tray of fresh peaches, strawberries, pomengrate, figs, and the world famous Bukhara melons was set in the middle of the table.

I left Bukhara the next day by a small propeller airplane. As the plane rose into the thin air and flew low over the Kyzyl Kum Desert, you could see sheep and camels grazing on haloxyon and saxual bushes below. Soon the mighty Oxus River came into view. Peering through the window, I looked down and wondered: could it have been there that Alexander the Great and King Darius did battle?

By Robert Davis
For International Living

P.S. You can read further about my experiences in Bukhara in the June issue of International Living. If you've yet to try the print issue of IL on for size, now is the best time. Join today and you get 42% off the regular price--that's only $27.95 for a one-year subscription. You get instant online access to every article mentioned above…a glossy issue in the mail every month…and much, much more. For full details, click here.