KAMASHI, UZBEKISTAN, PART 1: FRIDA KAHLO MEETS FRED ASTAIRE

On our second day in Uzbekistan, we took buses to a village named Kamashi. Adobe houses, some with windows and some without, some solitary and others in small clusters, were spread out over dusty hills. Cattle and donkeys roamed freely, and everything was coated with a film of gray-brown dirt.

The farmers in the area live in compounds. As many as 100 family members live in the same area and work together, and the youngest son is given the responsibility of caring for the matriarch.

We were greeted as we got off the bus by residents of the village:

They directed us to pass through an open garage area where six older women danced to a welcome song. All wore similar bright clothing and broad smiles, and they all had gold teeth:

One woman clacked together two lacquer spoons in each hand, and another tapped china saucers with something metal she wore on her fingertips:

I especially liked the Frida Kahlo of the group, the woman with the painted-on unibrow in the photo below, who was particularly effervescent and appeared to be "large and in charge":

A group of men provided the vocals and additional percussion, and those who weren't singing were having a relaxing tea part on this raised platform, a piece of furniture we saw all over the Stans.

The teenage girls were beautiful. This group could be a class of young women from my church posing with their teacher. I love the black Adidas outfit and bright blue BMW hat on the little boy on the right, and isn't his mother gorgeous? I felt a little awkward taking pictures, but we were encouraged to do so. I would guess that the village makes a lot of money by sponsoring tour groups like ours:

Even the headbands are pretty:

The first stop was at the indoor/outdoor kitchen where our refreshments were being prepared:

Note that the kitchen table is very low to the ground and there are no chairs:

A few steps away from the kitchen, the woman was baking the traditional flatbread in a clay oven. Our guide translated her explanation: 

Circles of dough are patted against the inside walls of this oven

When they are removed, they look like this:

They are pretty good when they are hot right out of the oven, but not that great after a few hours.

It's almost the same technique that is used in western China (and it tasted the same to us):

In addition to the oven, they showed us how they made a stove top by burning straw in a cavity hollowed out of clay and placing a metal bowl on top of it:

The next stop was the backyard for some garden dining. Tables ringed with chairs were set with beautiful china cups, and a row of snacks that included store-bought cookies and wrapped candies ran down the center of each table:

A round of fresh bread was brought to each table. The holes in the bread are made with a special tool you can see in the YouTube video above.  I brought a bunch of them home with me. Anyway, the bread is pretty good when it is hot out of the oven, but not that great after a few hours.

Here we are enjoying our snacks, which included hot chocolate and tea. I noted in my journal that the hot chocolate was fantastic, much better than the watery brew we had on the train:

We were introduced to the 84-year-old matriarch who has 12 children, 40 grandchildren, and 60 great-grandchildren (or something like that). She sat on her chair and oversaw the proceedings:

A little later in the morning she was introduced to the matriarch of OUR group, our wonderful friend Colleen, who is in her 80s and has more energy than people have her age:

Next we were taught about some of the local customs, starting with marriage ceremonies:

This couple represent a bride and groom. I can't remember the details, but in all of my pictures, the man has his hand over his heart, and the woman is veiled and bent over.

"First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes baby in a baby carriage." Here is the Uzbek version of a cradle:

Hey, look! They just happen to have a baby handy!

Let's see if he fits:

Now comes the fun part. What do you do if you don't have a disposable diaper and you don't want to be washing all the cradle bedding all the time? Why, you use this handy dandy pee-catcher. Just snap it in place and voila! No wet bedding! (These grandmas like it a lot more than the baby.)

Strap the screaming baby in and drape the cradle with heavy rugs . . .

. . . and the baby will go to sleep whether he wants to or not.

Apparently, babies do survive this trauma and grow up to be happy, healthy children:

In the next act of this play, Frida Kahlo-Astaire came back for a repeat performance:

How could you not love this woman? She never stopped smiling:

As she danced, she invited others to join in. Our guide was first. She obviously knew what she was doing:

The German representative of our train company was next. He was also pretty good!

Some bold members of our group (not I) joined in as well:

Frida Kahlo-Astaire also demonstrated her moves with wool and a spindle:

These are beautiful women, aren't they?

The men kept the music going. It was fun to see them using the instruments we had seen the professional musicians playing the night before in a formal concert setting:

Then it was time to go. Our next adventure was waiting for us--a ride in a car caravan to the top of a mountain to visit a very, very old mosque.

This had been another one of the "Pinch me, I'm dreaming" experiences--hanging out with the locals for singing, dancing, and snacking in a remote village in Uzbekistan. Wow.

And yet . . . Dora the Explorer was there, along with the BMW kid:

The world is getting smaller all the time.