We were outside the Jizzakh train station, patiently waiting on our Yandex Go taxi driver, when another taxi pulled up. The driver, a tall lean man in his early seventies, leaned out the window, “Where are you heading?” We explained that we were waiting for another taxi and he nodded, […]
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A Tajik woman in a colorful dress was elbowing and pushing me away. I was too close, and she demanded space. She was also bothered by my camera, hissing at me that it kept poking her in the back. But what could I do? We were in the crowd, and […]
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It was morning, and the studio was empty, except for Khushnud and I. “Where is everyone?” I asked. “Eating plov,” Khushnud replied casually, as if that explained everything. It did not. After a bit more prodding, I learned that every traditional Uzbek wedding begins with plov, a traditional rice and meat […]
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Khushnud and I were chatting at the pottery wheel, as always. For two people from different cultures, different generations, different religions, and opposite sexes, we found no shortage of things to talk about. At first, all we shared was a common language, Russian, and a love of pottery. Within a […]
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But by the third day, I had settled into the rhythm of life in the studio. We ate breakfast of bread, cheese, and tea and then Khushnud and I spent the morning at the pottery wheels, throwing new pieces, decorating, and trimming whatever had dried enough to handle. Before long, it […]
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