E hatisitsoe: 26.09.2018
I've wanted to come here ever since I saw the first photos of Bukhara and Samarkand. The tall entrance gates of the mosques and madrasas with their elegant tile decorations - they're called pishtaks, as I now know - always looked magnificent in the photos. When I was preparing for our world trip and found old photos of the major sights on the internet, I was somewhat perplexed: in a considerable number of cases, all that was left were ruins and the colorful tiles were hardly preserved.
The solution was simple and disturbing: throughout the 20th century - both during Soviet times and after independence - the major sights were restored. I then pondered for a long time whether I really wanted to come here, because I don't like reconstructions, but I decided to do so for two reasons: firstly, it was an old dream, and secondly, Islamic art should definitely be included in the trip.
So today, the buildings are in perfect condition. However, perfection is a tricky thing. On one hand, everything is too flawless: the walls are smoother than they would have ever been in the 15th century. There are no chipped edges, which is not very believable given the (supposed) age of the bricks. But above all, the quality of the tiles is devastating. This is best observed when comparing the few surviving original pieces with the imitations: the fine details are missing (leaves, lines...), the curves of the garlands are too precisely round, and the colors are sometimes truly hideous. I tried to capture this in some photos.
What is most bothersome here in Bukhara, however, is the design of the 'old town' around the major sights. Everything looks like a German pedestrian zone from the 1970s or a designer outlet with an Oriental touch. The old houses were demolished and replaced by these ugly new buildings. In the areas where the old town has been preserved to date, one immerses oneself in a completely different world: unpaved streets, dilapidated houses, small architectural sins in between - not particularly idyllic either. But it is precisely here, especially in the former Jewish quarter, that most of the hotels are located, and some of them are very charming, just like ours.
A good way to deal with all of this is to go to the hammam at 5 o'clock in the afternoon and have a treatment there according to all the rules of the art (and in the ladies' bath, this applies to me much more than in the mixed bath, which is also accessible to gentlemen), and then go back to the hotel feeling refreshed. At 6 o'clock, the city is bathed in golden light and from a distance the pishtaks look as beautiful as they do in the photos in Vienna. Bukhara must have been a magnificent city once.