Botkin Cemetery, Tashkent

A Visit to Botkin Cemetery, Tashkent

     I enjoy visiting cemeteries in different cities. I'm not morbid, or death-obsessed. I find cemeteries peaceful, and often beautiful. But they are also windows into a culture that you don't often see otherwise. It is always interesting to see how different groups of people deal with death, something that every single culture has to face. 

     Today I visited an enormous cemetery in Tashkent. I know very little about it, it is not mentioned in my guide book to Central Asia. I do know that St.Alexander Nevsky Cathedral, which is situated in the cemetery, was built in 1905. There is a little street which separates the 'Communist' part of the cemetery from the rest. There is also a forlorn Jewish section tucked in the back. 

The star indicates that the person was a Communist. 

Many of the graves had little benches, and little tables, for relatives to rest, and maybe share a meal or a drink with their deceased loved ones.

I got seriously lost at one point. I may have been walking in circles. I finally asked for direction 'to the street.'

The sad Jewish section. Maybe all of the people who would have tended the graves have left the area. 

A Visit to the Countryside (Back in Uzbekistan)

"Turn left at the old soviet rocket launcher"

     September 1 is Independence Day in Uzbekistan, the day 24 years ago that Uzbekistan became its own country, no longer a Soviet republic. It is obviously a national holiday, so schools are closed. I celebrated the holiday with some other teachers by having a picnic in the Uzbek countryside. We piled into two cars for the convoy. Luckily the car I was a passenger in had super-navigator Renee in the front seat, with her trusty GPS. 

     Before we even left Tashkent, we were stymied by a road closed for celebrations. No worries, we backtracked and zigged and zagged and made our way to the highway. We blew through the police check (the yellow 'foreigner' license plate has some advantages). We drove through extremely dry landscapes, past corn fields, cotton fields, and vineyards, all looking parched. 

     When we reached the village of Nevich, we got a tiny bit lost again. We followed people who looked like they were going to a party (carrying covered plates of what was most likely plov), thinking they might be heading to the river's edge. It was a good choice, because we did eventually make our way to the river. 'River' is an exaggeration. Apparently in the springtime it is a rushing torrent. Today it was a very cold wading pool. 

This may or may not be an old soviet rocket launcher. 

dried cow dung (taken with the macro lens)

still playing with the macro lens

no idea what this mysterious building is or was

beautiful murals on the outskirts of Tashkent