SAMARKAND, UZBEKISTAN: MAGNIFICENT REGISTAN SQUARE

We have visited many of the world's great "squares"--Red Square in Moscow, Tiananmen Square in Beijing, Times Square in New York City, Wenceslas Square in Prague, St. Peter's Square in Vatican City, Plaza de la Constitucion in Mexico City, and Trafalgar Square in London, to name a few. They are all majestic and beautiful and historical. Registan Square in Samarkand, Uzbekistan, can hold its own (and more) in that elite crowd.

I think I would even put it near--or at--the top of the "Squares" list. It is a true gem.

As I look at my pictures now, I realize that they don't capture the magic of this huge square. It's hard to see how massive those three portals are, how brilliantly colored the tile facades, how spectacular the architecture. 

Before these buildings existed, however, this was just a broad, flat area ("Registan" means "sandy place" or "desert" in Persian)  surrounded by caravanserai (inns for travelers). It was used for public gatherings, public proclamations, and public executions. 

Alexander the Great conquered Samarkand in 329 BC. After changing hands several times, Genghis Khan's Mongols captured it in 1220. Marco Polo wrote about it in the early 14th century. The great Temur made Samarkand his capital and used it as his base for conquering a vast empire in the late 14th century. His grandson Ulugh Beg ruled from here.

In its heyday, all the main roads of Samarkand led to Registan Square, which lies midway between the European and Asian trading routes.

It was a natural place to build what was the 15th century equivalent of a university, a madrasa, and in 1417 the well-known astronomer and mathematician Ulugh Beg ordered the building of the madrasa on the left as you face the square from the street. It is named after him: the Ulugh Beg Madrasa:

Two centuries later, Yalangtush Bahadur, the emir of Samarkand, ordered his own madrasa to be built across the square and facing the Ulugh Beg Madrasa. Completed in 1636, it is known as the Sher-Dor Madrasa.

The madrasa in the back, the Tilya-Kori Madrasa, was started ten years after the Sher-Dor Madrasa and was completed in 1660. Smaller than the other two madrasas but the most architecturally rich, it was designed to create balance and unity in the square.

The complexity and detail is mind-boggling:

The arch decorations are different for each portal. Here is the arch of the Ulugh Beg madrasa on the left:

The madrasa portal across the courtyard on the right is decorated with tiger mosaics, human faces, and deer--very unusual for a Muslim structure:

You would think the artists who designed the exterior would run out of motifs, but the center back madrasa portal doesn't look anything like the other two:

I used to nod and smile when I heard the phrase, "You have to see it to believe it," but I've learned that there are some places--both natural and man-made--that defy being captured by the written word. This is one of those places.

The story behind Registan Square's demise and rebirth is a little sad. Not long after the construction of the third madrasa, the capital city was moved to Bukhara and Samarkand entered a decline. The Silk Road merchants began to bypass the city. It didn't take long for these monumental edifices to fall into disrepair and for people to move out and wild animals to move in.

In 1875 the trade routes returned to Samarkand, and the initial rebuilding of Registan Square began. Then the Russians moved in to create a Soviet state in 1918, and while religious practice of any kind was forbidden, they did have respect for historical value, and serious restoration commenced, continuing until just before the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991.

Nowadays there isn't a lot of madrasa-ing going on. Registan Square has become a center for local craftsman and a souvenir shopper's dream. One of the important local crafts is embroidery. Note the tablecloth hanging up by the door in the photo below, a store sign of sorts:

Behind the giant portals where students once studied now lie dozens of little shops that sell a combination of imported and locally made goods. Here a woman works on a piece of embroidery, but most of the pillowcases in front of her are machine-made imports:

Designs stamped or drawn on silk or cotton fabric are laboriously outlined and filled in with silk or cotton thread:

Our guide Yulia explains the process and symbolism involved with the embroidery:

These pieces of art are called "Suzanis." "Suzan" is the Persian word for "needle." We bought one at this shop, and another one later in our trip.

It is hard to resist this explosion of color and design:

. . . and that goes for the courtyard walls, windows, and portals as well as the fabrics. In this photo, you can see the grand exterior portal, the one that faces the large square, behind the small interior portal:

I would like to have been able to explore that second floor with the enticing balconies and open doors:

Today, shop keeping has replaced academia in the the inner courtyards of the madrasas:

No matter in which direction I looked, there were more beautiful tile designs and majolica:

I would expect this to be a noisy, frantic place, but it was really quite peaceful and relaxing. We could hear the birds chirping in the trees and the hum of friendly, not overly aggressive, voices.

What used to be classrooms are now exotic shops:

. . . and occasionally not so exotic shops:

The classic platform that often has men lounging on it is instead covered with crafts for sale:

The print patterns on this clothing are very typical for the area. We saw many locals wearing clothing like this: 

Almost every shop sold these dolls with their hand-painted faces and hand-made clothes. No two are exactly alike. I eventually caved in and bought a pair:

I wish I had purchased that grandma on the back row:

Terry looks great in this Mongol hat, don't you think? It might be just a little warm for Southern California, however:

There are crafts in the Registan Square shops that we never saw anywhere else on the trip, a good sign that they are locally made:

. . . along with the same scarves that can be purchased all over Europe. However, something about buying a silk scarf on the Silk Road called to me.

We visited Registan Square at least three times while we were staying in Samarkand. On each trip, we kept getting drawn into this ceramics shop. I mean, really, could YOU resist this display?

We bought a large platter with a design called "Mehrob" or "Circle of Life." It was made in Rashtani, a small village in the Fargana Valley, which is famous for its pottery. When the shopkeeper flicked it with his finger, it made the sound of a bell and kept "ringing" for quite a while. He told us (and we believed him, of course) that this is the sound of high quality pottery.

There is a mosque that is part of the Tilya Kora Madrasa, the building in the back of the square that provides the bridge between the two madrasas facing each other. The mosque sits under this blue dome:

. . . and the interior of that dome is so infinitesimally detailed and so lavishly laden with gold that it almost hurt my eyes:

"Tilya Kora" is translated as "decorated with gold." No kidding:

WOW.

Just a little more people-watching on our way out:

This young street sweeper looks like she is wearing a lab coat. There seemed to be a strong focus on cleanliness in the Stans:

We thought we had seen it all . . . until our buses stopped at Registan Square at night. If only Temur could see it now:

Our group was fortunate to be the only people there. Magical.