Faraway Places
How I long for the return to the days of exotic travel, taking in the sights and sounds of ancient cities, reaching back in time to experience life in another era. The world has changed so much over the last twenty-five years that even imagining this type of adventure seems alien but the memories of past exploits are still fresh.
Recently I came across photos from a trip when I visited several ancient cities along the Silk Road in Asia. It was in July when the daytime weather was very warm, but the nights were cool and the sky was clear. The day's activities included hiking around the ruins of past civilizations or wandering through the bazaars and shops of the towns and cities, stopping for lunch and/or dinner at local stands or restaurants before settling in for the evening to gaze at the billions of stars in the night sky. It was pure pleasure with very few cares.
One evening found me in a Samarkand, a city in Uzbekistan, that had an ancient section and a semi-modern section that was home to most of the business enterprises. My hotel straddled the dividing line between the two so it was easy to leave the hotel to go to a local restaurant/club that featured entertainment as well as excellent food. It was a chance to sample the food and listen to local music before it changed to something more modern for dancing. Tables were set up family style and people tended to mix quite amicably. Having a strong Russian influence also meant that bottles of vodka adorned each table and once the cap on these bottles was removed, it could not be closed again so once opened it had to be finished. Needless to say the evening's mood fluctuated in direct proportion to the level of the vodka in the bottle; great fun.
While I was walking to the restaurant one evening the interpreter/guide mentioned that I should be aware that it was customary for men to dance with other men so I should not be offended if a stranger asks me to dance. The locals enjoy dancing and when strangers are in town they like to show off their skill and make friends in the process. I was told that it was fine to refuse but the rejection should be done politely so as not to hurt anyone's feelings. It seemed like good advice and I took it to heart for future reference should the occasion arise.
Dinner was indeed excellent as was the vodka. There was a lot of laughter and conversations in many languages could be heard over the music. After the tables were cleared and the entertainment finished, the music changed and the floor was open to dancing. Sure enough, within minutes some of the local men started asking people to dance and I felt a light tap on my shoulder. Looking up I saw a handsome young man in his twenties smiling at me while holding out his hand. I did not have to think very long about his proposal before standing up, and taking his hand in the process, I was led out onto the dancefloor. The young man turned me to face him and put his arm loosely around my waist, assuming the lead position. Clearly the young man was happy that his offer of a dance was not refused and that he had scored one of the few foreigners in the club. He smiled at me and I offered a warm smile in return while we swayed to the music.
When the song was over he walked back to my table with me, thanked me in a bit of rough English and headed back to his friends as another song started to play. I could not sit down before I felt another touch on my arm and another young fellow held out his hand to me. How could I refuse?
