The Lazy Cherub Enigma: Lost (and found) on the Silk Road

(It's been a long 7 days and A LOT has happened since then! Posts get written and photos get edited but by the time I get internet everything has moved on again. I am catching up as fast as I can but bear with me - my heart and soul are having a bumpy ride...)

Travel writing – or writing in general – comes in waves. Sometimes they crash forth with a fury. Sometimes it is a gentle roll. Sometimes it is a perpetual state of nothingness. Doldrums. A place where so much and so little collide and extinguish each other. The momentum of words morphs with the trip and – or lack thereof.

Not to say that nothing has happened. So much has happened – is happening. But we are struggling with the happening. The nature of the Silk Road is one of adversity punctuated with moments of ecstasy. It is in every sense of the word a journey and it is one we are increasingly finding we are doing alone.

Aloneness… we hadn’t prepared ourselves for that. I’ve been reading “The Great Game” and the irony is that aloneness is exactly what made it “great.” All the players had to go it alone. All had to morph into someone else to blend with the caravans. All felt moments of despair. All were pushed beyond what they could endure. And yet… they all found pockets of joy in places they never imagined existed.

My joy was Bukhara. From the moment I stepped out of the truck and into the ancient alleyways I knew I had found myself again. I could get lost. I could get found. I could for 3 glorious days be me. I was free.

It began with a search for coffee (no surprise!). Winding passages through the Jewish Quarter past the marionette shop and into magic – a garden, a pool and a tiny shop that made lattes and Italian espresso. Sunset caressing blue tile and causing it to blush. We sat and let it all wash over us. Everyone who has come to Bukhara since the dawn of time falls under her spell. We were beyond smitten.

Aloneness… just when you are deep in the well there is a lifeline. A couple beside us speaks Cantonese and Ken says hello. Smiles. Laughter. Embrace. Travellers also on a journey who welcome a familiar face. We had not met them before but we are life long friends. Such is the nature of the Silk Road.

I miss dancing. I miss the freedom to move with the tides of my being. I had not realized how much I missed it until I meet the puppet maker. He wraps cloth and paper around his hand and makes a gypsy come to life. She dances and he obliges her. I ask Ken “Who do you think we are in this Game? Puppets or Puppeteers?” He says, “Let’s cut the strings and find out.”

Dinners. Always the same place by the pool. I have a soul mate there. She is grey and mysterious. She tells me, “I choose you to love while you are here.” I hold her and she smiles. I stroke her hair while she sleeps in my arms. For 3 days we have an ecstatic love affair. I want to take her home with me and for a moment, Ken and I consider which is the better investment: a silk carpet or a feline filled with unconditional love. Neither of any practicality but one very much dear to our hearts.

The final night. A final dance through the maze of alleyways and a chance to lose ourselves before we can’t again. The Drago People have arrived – kindred Silk Roaders whom we encounter time to time. Embrace. Embrace. Embrace. Laughter. Sharing. Smiles. We relish in the belonging knowing all too soon the longing will set in. Bukhara whispers in my ear, “Many have lost their heads here.” I whisper back, “I will give you my heart instead.” Moonlight witnesses the deal and approves. Such is the nature of the Silk Road.

* * * * *

The firs time I saw Khiva she was in my dreams

Resplendent in her glory

Foreign Hawks eating from her hands

She was mistress of international intrigue

Tended to by 300 hundred slaves

Coveted by all

But her heart belonged to the Khan.

The next time I saw Khiva was though my window

Dressed in blue and gold

And all manner of new accouterments

She catered to the whims of foreign throngs