A Silk Road Wonder

Although I’ve been lucky enough to travel to more than 100 countries, I’m still brought to my knees by the beauty of new places. Last June I was able to visit the Silk Road city of Samarkand, Uzbekistan, which has been at the crossroads of world cultures for over two and a half millennia. It’s magnificent tiled architecture rivals that of Istanbul.

I had no idea.

During the day I dragged my open mouth to as many sites as I could take in—mosques, madrashas, and mausoleums. But my favorite night was a special light-show event at Registan Square. It was a perfect evening that began with a soft moon rising over the central mosque.

Light-shows are kinda kitschy and kinda wonderful at the same time. As a photographer, I hunkered down in the front row, waiting for the main event. The show started—and then stopped—then started—then stopped.

Perfect. Every kitsch needs its glitches.

But those pauses allowed me to spend time looking away from the marvel to take in the crowd that had gathered. Mostly local Uzbek people, many had arrived early to spread out blankets and small picnics. They gathered as families, proud to treat their children to a night that honored the beauty and the history of their home.

Once the glitch was fixed and the show started in earnest, I kept turning back to look at the crowd. Toddlers were hoisted on the shoulders of fathers and uncles. Infants were bundled, asleep in their mothers’ arms. Grandparents leaned on sticks or one another, rapt. The show was flashy, but also steeped in the history of Uzbekistan, and it was the crowd that left me grateful for families everywhere.

Just two weeks later, on the Fourth of July, I watched another flashy light-show. My family gathered for a picnic and I sat, with my grandson in my lap, cheering and marveling as fireworks lit up the sky over the little lake where I live, honoring the beauty and the history of my home.