Traveling around Uzbekistan

I used to think metalwork was just about hammering things until they looked right. Then I spent three days in Bukhara’s old quarter, watching craftsmen

I’ve walked through more museum galleries than I care to count, but something about the Fine Arts Museum in Tashkent still catches me off guard.

I didn’t expect to feel anything standing in front of a seismograph needle frozen mid-scratch. But here’s the thing—the Earthquake Museum in

I used to think fig wood was just fig wood. Turns out, when Uzbek craftspeople talk about Mediterranean fig varieties—specifically the ones growing in

I used to think embroidery was just something grandmothers did to pass the time. Then I found myself in a cramped workshop in Bukhara’

I used to think glove-making was one of those dying crafts you only read about in museum plaques, the kind where someone’s great-grandfather did

I’ve always been drawn to rock art—something about those ancient hands pressing pigment into stone makes the past feel uncomfortably close.

I used to think museums were just dusty repositories of the past, but the Bukhara Medical History Museum changed that for me entirely. Walking through

I’ve always been terrible at riddles, honestly. But there’s something about Uzbek riddles—topishmoqlar, they’re called—that feels different

I’ve always found it oddly fascinating how a country’s festival calendar can completely reshape your experience of a place. Uzbekistan isn’