Ubiquitously Uzbekistan – A Delightful Encounter at a Spice Shop at the Markazi Bazaar
Throughout this wonderful first trip in Uzbekistan, I have had many memorable encounters with the locals. For most of the times, they approached us for photographs and we would begin a conversation. It was through them that I gathered the perspectives that Uzbeks hold close to their hearts. Our conversations with the hiking guide Mr. S, who took us through the peaks of the Nuratau ranges, would forever remain dear in my heart.
This encounter in a local bazaar in Bukhara is of quite a different nature from our sobering chats with Mr. S. It was by far the most jovial and comical haggling that we did in Uzbekistan. I came away with a humorous memory of the kindness that the three young men shared with us on that sunny, final afternoon in Bukhara.
Right outside of the Chashma Ayub Mausoleum, there is an exit that leads to the Markazi Bazaar. For all purposes and intentions, this market serves mostly the daily grocery needs of the locals. We were not particularly looking for anything this late afternoon.
What drew us to the bazaar was the myriad colors and fragrances of the spices at the spice shops there. We stopped to look, then began conversations with the shop owner, then one thing led to another… and… we bought spices, and a whole lot of them too.
From the most basic cumin to saffron, the royalty of all spices, this spice shop is the haven for epicureans and serious students of Uzbek cuisine. Three young men were there at the store, and they received us with incredible hospitality.
The fun part of this encounter was the fact that we spoke no Uzbek and they spoke very little English. We communicated by busting out all the little words that we knew in each others’ languages. The shop owner had a pretty good idea of the spices’ English names. The device that we used to communicate was actually not the Google Translate app on our phones, but the calculator to display the prices of the spices. The rest was about hand signs and a keen sense of observation by all parties involved to get the meaning of what we wanted to convey.
Take, for example, the many kinds of cumin on display. I pointed and said “plov?” and the shop owner immediately understood that I wanted to make plov. He then proceeded to show me how to make plov in Uzbek. Besides the cumin, I also bought the special Uzbek raisins with which they make the plov.
I pointed at another pile of cumin, and he said, Afghanistan—Afghanistan! Then he moved his hand across his neck in a head-slitting gesture. I responded by pointing at a star anise and said China! China! Then I gestured a head-slitting sign and we all laughed. My friend thought I was being such a fool.
I then said shashlik, and he pointed at a pile of bright red spices. Before we even said we would buy, he was scooping up quite a large pile of different kinds of spices across the full spectrum on display. The scooping was itself amazing theatrics. He did not have to think twice about the recipe. He used a ladle with a long handle, and swept through a whole collection of the spices held in large buckets.
Soon enough, the other two young men were hand-pounding the larger pieces of the spices, including cinnamon and star anises. We learned that their grinding machines were not working that day, so the young men had to crush the spices by hand. We were then presented with the spices for shashlik, a combination of many, many different kinds of spices.
I tend not to buy any souvenirs when I go on traveling. The writing on this blog and the photographs that I take are the memories that I share with my family and friends. For Uzbekistan, I had been contemplating the replication of some Uzbek foods as “souvenirs” for my family. This spice shop fulfilled all my needs in this initiative. At the end, my friend and I each spent about US $20 to $30 on the spices.
Amongst the many items I bought, there was cardamom and saffron for me to replicate the spiced tea that I had at the Silkroad Teahouse. Like the Silkroad Teahouse, this spice shop at Markazi Bazzar is worth a stop just for the aroma. We were having such a party that the shop owners at the other shops looked on at us with big smiles.
It was time for us to move on.
After we bought all the Uzbek spices that we wanted, the rest of the day was about killing quite a bit of time before we headed on the train to depart past midnight. We had a scrumptious dinner before our trip to the next destination, which is Muynak.
