Turns out the decision to stay over night in a datcha rather than a tent was the best idea ever. Not only did it absolutely pour down all night , it also continued to pour down during the entire morning. It rained so heavily that Inom filmed a sequence of himself in the rain and shared it on Instagram. The sheer thought of having all our gear getting wet in the tent including our sleeping bags and pack everything together in a wet bundle and then spend hours riding while it continues pouring really was not very appealing.
We were supposed to ride another half day today but the heavy rains turned those clay paths we used to ride on yesterday into mud slides. Too dangerous for horse and riders or at least not fun to ride. So we decided on a lazy morning watching koʻpkari, the national (horse) sport, on our giant television screen instead. Koʻpkari are only played during colder season in late fall and early winter ( Oct-Dec), and as popular as soccer. They are a crazy affair. Check some pictures here, here and a video here.
Ranging from a hundred riders up to one thousand horsemen (only men are allowed to play) on stallions are all assembled on a huge field with a white ringed circle in the middle.
A slaughtered and beheaded goat is filled with salt to weigh exactly 70 kgs and is dropped somewhere on the field. On command all riders are dashing for the goat to pick it up and carry it in a circle around the field before trying to drop it in the white ringed middle as a goal. Only one rider can really carry it and 999 others are trying to take it away from him.
What ensues is an unreal scenery of rearing horses, men and horses hit with whips, a mele of chaos that turns around itself for as long as no rider breaks free to take that run in the circle with the goats body clamped under one of his knees and holding onto it for dear life.
Once a rider breaks free with the goat a wild horse race and chase starts with the goat sometimes being ripped apart. There is a very esteemed group of koʻpkari riders that are professionals, similar maybe to Rodeo cowboys in the US. You must be crazy, expect injuries but the respect of the nation is yours. In Germany of course this game would be outlawed in no time. There are few rules and those pertain more to what must be done so that a goal counts, rather than rules what to do or not to when on horseback. Whipping anybody’s horse is OK (halal), taking the others bridle and pulling on it as well. But you do not whip the rider. That’s haram (not allowed). Pushing, shoving with brute force is expected.
The participants are all very sturdy, bulky young men on muscled up small stallions that are one one hand strong enough to carry 190 kgs ( 120 for the rider and 70 for the goat) and cool enough not to panic being squeezed in a sea of horses moving and shoving so tightly together. But it must also be very fast, otherwise once it breaks free the other riders will catch up and try to rip the goat out of the riders hands and under his knee.
A game can last anywhere from 20 minutes to an hour. And there are multiple games a day. Spectators ring the field in masses and the prizes are high. They range from an array of animals (Camels, cattle, horses, sheep) to cars, electronics and of course cash. Kup Kari horses are very revered but not pampered. They are undergoing a special training the four months prior to prepare for the koʻpkari season. Special food, special training and keeping them in darkness during other times. A concept that is truly foreign to us.
After watching a few koʻpkari from the safety of our soft sofa we bundled our belongings together and took a car back to Tashkent.
On the way we stopped on Charvak lake, a big reservoir with dam which also serves as a popular recreation spot for city folk here craving the clean air and clear mountain views into three countries.
The water level was quite low and we saw several company owned holiday retreats, left overs from soviet times. Employees can stay quasi at an all inclusive appart hotel on company money for 1-2 weeks a year.
Driving back to Tashkent took another two hrs , passing some strange sights on the way. Riders on donkeys crossing the highway at unpexpected places. Cattle and other livestock loaded on rickety trailer towed by old Lada‘s or Moskwitch‘s which Chris’ recognizes from former Czechoslovakia.
We arrived around two PM in Tashkent and were quite hungry. We decided to combine a late lunch with visiting Tashkents biggest market, Chorsu Bazaar. Hundreds of little stalls combined into sections cover a vast area.
In one corner we saw the clothes, in another the household goods, we headed straight for the street food section and delicious smells from open barbequeue fires engulfed us. Uzbekistan is not for vegetarians really. Uzbeks are meat eaters and lots of it.
Besides the national dish Plov, they have all sorts of kebaps, shashliks meat balls etc. which Chris and Inom decided for.
Esther chose a specialty and the rare (as in only) veggie option was a sort of large dim sum filled with potatoes and covered in a sort of tomatoe sauce with onions and fennel sprinkled on it called Hanum. Long lines were queuing for that delicacy. It tasted like a oversize soft ravioli.
You can probably find everything you might or might not need at this market. The choice was truly overwhelming. Some products were familiar to us, while others seemed a bit peculiar (or had peculiar names).
We went on exploring the fresh bakery section, buying warm bread for a light evening meal, wandered under the main dome to look at the meat and dried fruit sections. We bought several dried fruit for the trip as well as fresh vegetables. You can always try things out first before buying, which we of course did. We bought roasted sesame seeds in the spice section and a wonderfully aromatic fruit tea mix in the tea section. Packed with our dinner and some more, we headed back to our guest house for a nice shower and settled down to catch up on our blog.
After a light fresh (tasty!) tomatoes, pepper and cucumber with bread dinner we fell asleep like two rocks.
