Bukhara: Copper and Merchants

By Madina Burkhanova

How does one describe the historical and artistic gravity of a place that so often left them wordless? Bukhara is the Madinat al Sufriya, the ‘copper city’, but also the Madinat al Tujjar, the ‘city of merchants’. It is impossible to abridge Bukhara’s religious and cultural importance; those in touch with the city’s rich past know that it was the crux of Persian trade and culture in mediaeval Asia. What I quickly came to discover was its eminence in Islamic education in the time of the Timurid dynasty. The city walls, twelve kilometres in circumference at their prime, house a fortress of academia.

Ulugh Beg Madrasa, Bukhara.

Above is an image of my father in the doorway of the Ulugh Beg Madrasa, an ancient educational institution. At the time, I was a few weeks away from commencing my first year of St Andrews. The experience of wandering the sacrosanct dormitories of students centuries before my time was uncanny.

It was a scorching desert summer in Bukhara, and only the pure marvel of the city could distract me from the heat that rose from the stone walls and pavement. This was the third stop on my family’s cultural pilgrimage of Uzbekistan. The trip had added personal depth; I felt I’d almost neglected the ancient cities in favour of the modern capital where I’m from. Our most strenuous activities were reserved for early mornings and evenings, when the climate was at its most forgiving. At daybreak, we’d venture to the outdoor monuments (a peril to my brother, who is categorically not a morning person). I must give mention to one of Bukhara’s most recognisable structures, the Kalon minaret. During its time of use, it was both a watchtower and a monument from which the call to prayer was issued. My first time seeing it was during sunrise, when the elaborate geometry of its designs were washed in gold and shadow. Later, at night, I saw it come to life with artificial light and people buzzing in its vicinity.

Kalon Minaret, Bukhara.

For all their glory, I want to focus less on the most renowned of Bukhara’s attractions. A four kilometre drive out of the city, the Sitorai Mokhi-Khosa is worth the trek. Built by a collection of Amirs across Bukhara’s history, the palace is a remarkable fusion of Eastern Asian, European, and classical Timurid architecture. Stained-glass windows join Islamic geometry, which are compounded by Japanese-style illustrations across the walls. 

The mausoleum of Bahouddin Naqshband, founder of the Naqshbandi order of Sunni Islam, is another stunning monument that lies just outside the city. It is a tomb but also a signifier of the founder’s birthplace. Visiting the mausoleum is a religious experience for many; the place is steeped in spirituality. Brightly lit by natural light and pristine marble, it is not your typical burial site. Areas for prayer are abundant - it is also a place to cultivate community. All the same, the hushed atmosphere adds to the visual sanctity. 

My grandfather at the Bahouddin Naqshband Mausoleum, Bukhara.

Back to the city centre we go! Bukharan markets don’t discriminate between day and night. In the daytime, the stalls were situated in shelter from the unrelenting sun. Hallowed and hollowed, the interior spaces the markets took up had a magic of their own. When the desert air cooled in the evening, the bazaars moved outside to provide light to the looming monuments. In one of my most surreal moments, my family ate dinner on a terrace overlooking the Kalon minaret, watching vendors shoot light-up toy propellers into the sky.

Traditional carpet displays in an indoor bazaar, Bukhara.

The people of Bukhara deserve their own recognition for both their value to the culture but also for their kindness. My tainted capital dialect was accepted with grace and warmth, a phenomenon very characteristic of all the ancient cities I’ve visited in Uzbekistan. Furthermore, I soon realised that even the residents themselves hosted a wide variety of Tajik and Uzbek dialects. I’ve always known Uzbekistan to be exceedingly diverse; having been so focal to the Silk Road, this is hardly surprising. Bukhara is a true reflection of this. I was treated to the unending intricacy of the Islamic art and architecture as well as the tilting, winding pathways of the Jewish quarter, continuously studying the way the tangible patterns of these two major religions merged throughout the city. My one regret is not seeking out the very scarce artefacts from Bukhara’s time as an ancient Buddhist centre during the Tang dynasty. 

A lovely vendor selling Uzbek suzani, Bukhara.

There is so much I’m unable to tackle. My visit to Bukhara was years ago, and it feels that way. I was then a teenager itching to exercise my photography skills and soak in the big picture, omitting the finer details. The beauty of the city is such that if I went back again, I’d find layers of history I would never have fathomed. If I leave you with one element of clarity, let it be that Bukhara (and Uzbekistan, by extension) is a place of insurmountable scholarship and antiquity. Allow yourself to explore beyond the city walls, and you may find yourself as astonished as I did.