Bukhara had been immensely charming. We were fascinated by the relatively intact core area of its historic center where madrasahs and trading domes that were built centuries ago sit side by side with row after row of old houses and former caravanserais. What made it even more atmospheric was the fact that the city’s legendary artisanal craftsmanship was alive and well, with the genuine friendliness of the local people toward visitors further adding to the allure. However, if you walk a little farther away from the historic center, you’ll find even more gems from the past that are worth exploring.

On a chilly yet sunny morning in early October, right after breakfast James and I headed to Bolo Hauz Mosque, a small but beautiful monument directly opposite the formidable Ark. The photogenic 18^th-century mosque sits in front of an octagonal hauz (artificial pond) with its calm water reflecting the sun-bathed façade of the structure. We took a closer look and we were in awe of the intricacy of the iwan: the front entrance of the compound decorated with slender wooden carved pillars and ornate ceiling. However, this was in fact only added in the early 20^th century, and fortunately it was spared from destruction during the 1920 siege of Bukhara that almost obliterated the Ark. The turbulent times have long gone, and at the time of our visit, the stillness of the mosque’s surroundings exuded an undeniably peaceful ambiance.

Taking advantage of our early start ahead of most other tourists, we continued to a place less than a kilometer to the west where another monument from the past that arguably holds even greater historical significance stood in solitude. It was the 10^th-century Ismail Samani Mausoleum, named after the founder of the Samanid Empire – a regional power that controlled parts of what is now Central Asia, Iran, and Afghanistan – that was once under the rule of the Abbasid Caliphate. Today, due to his legacy, Ismail Samani’s name is even immortalized in the currency of neighboring Tajikistan, the somoni.

Although relatively modest in size, the mausoleum’s intricate brickwork was quite a visual delight, with the soft morning sun accentuating the patterns created by different decorative elements of the walls. But its excellent state of preservation might raise the question: how did a structure built more than two centuries prior to the Mongol invasion survive the onslaughts of the nomadic empire that hailed from the steppes of the East? As fate would have it, this very mausoleum was buried in mud and sand from flooding and landslides that eventually concealed it from the Mongols. It wasn’t until the 1920s to 1930s when major excavation works carried out by Soviet experts finally unearthed the monument and brought it to public attention. It is considered the only remaining structure from the Samanid era, further cementing its historical significance.

A stone’s throw away from the mausoleum was another centuries-old historical site that is linked to Job (known as Ayyub in the Muslim world), a prophet mentioned both in the Bible and the Quran. Called Chashma-Ayub (literally “Job’s Well”), it is believed to be where he struck the ground with his staff to create a well. The current appearance of the compound is a result of different construction stages that spanned centuries, including in the 14^th century when Bukhara was under the rule of Timur, the great conqueror who is now a national hero in Uzbekistan. A fitting conversion given the origin story of the site, today the cavernous structure also houses a museum dedicated to the history of Bukhara’s water supply.

From the western edge of Bukhara’s old town, we moved to its eastern fringes where a structure like no other was tucked away in the middle of low-rise residential buildings. Chor Minor (Persian for “four minarets”) is believed to be the former gateway of the Madrasah of Khalif Niyaz-kul which was built in the early 19^th century when Bukhara was under the control of the Manghit dynasty, the last ruling dynasty of the Emirate of Bukhara before its abolition in 1920 following the incorporation of this region into the Soviet Union. But if you are from India, when you hear the name Chor Minor you will probably think of Charminar, the 16^th-century four-minaret monument in the southern Indian city of Hyderabad which may or may not have inspired the architect of the structure in Bukhara.

Today, only the four towers of Chor Minor – which are actually not true minarets but a type of structure known as guldasta – with their iconic bulbous turquoise domes survive, while the rest of the madrasah has long gone. When we were there, I overheard a nearby tour guide explaining to his group of European tourists that the guldastas were adorned with mosaic tiles that allude to four religions: Islam, Christianity, Buddhism, and Zoroastrianism. When I did further research on the topic, however, I came to the conclusion that this is rather conjectural as there is no written record to support this theory. It is an interesting one though.

For the final site, I need to bring to your attention a person who was instrumental to the fate of the city in the early 20^th century. Fayzulla Khodjaev (also spelled Xo’jayev) was born into a wealthy family of sheep traders in 1896. At the age of 11, he was sent by his father to study in Moscow. In the Russian capital, he was exposed to the contemporary fervor of European-style reforms and was particularly inspired by the Jadid movement that emphasized the revival of Islamic teachings while at the same time embracing modernity. With the wealth he inherited, Khodjaev organized a secret society known as the Young Bukharans with the main goal of bringing a fundamental change in the Emirate of Bukhara. With the support of the Soviet’s Red Army who bombed Bukhara and occupied it following the flight of the last emir of Bukhara in 1920, he became the leader of the Bukharan People’s Soviet Republic when the former realm of the emirate was fully absorbed into the Soviet Union.

Today, Khodjaev remains a divisive figure. Some see him as a Russian collaborator, but others believe what he did was necessary at that time to get rid of the old-fashioned and despotic leadership of the Khans. The house where he was born, however, survives the test of time and is now a museum that provides a glimpse into the life of upper-class Bukharans in the late 19^th century. Because it is located further away in the south of Bukhara’s old city, we had to find our way through dusty streets with nondescript houses along them. But when we arrived at the museum, graced by a nice small garden at the front yard, it was closed. A young man saw us, took out his phone, and started talking to it, muttering words in Uzbek. I could faintly hear a Google Translate reply in English saying “we are closed”. I believe he was trying to tell us that, but didn’t know how. Disappointed, we sat down on a bench while trying to think of where to go instead. Moments later, a woman suddenly showed up from the street and signaled us to follow her. We soon learned that she was the official ticket counter staff, and the museum was open only after she arrived.

If you happen to walk past this residential complex, you probably wouldn’t realize that a beautiful and stately house is hidden behind the garden and the modest structures in the front – and there was no signage either. But that is the point as it was purposefully designed to provide its owners a peaceful abode away from the cacophony – or danger – of the street. As soon as we walked through the previously closed door, we were in awe. Before our eyes was a courtyard with a partially sunken lower level overlooked by a lofty and ornately-decorated mansion. We entered the house through the living quarters to the east and found it even more lavish from the inside, where intricate Persian motifs and niches filled with fine antiques adorned every inch of the walls. Following the floor plan clockwise, we walked through one room after another – separated by antechambers – and marveled at the beauty.

It didn’t take us long to see everything. But as we were leaving this museum, I couldn’t help but think of the many charming monuments we saw during our stay in Bukhara, most of them located in such a relatively compact area. That combined with the friendly locals, delicious food, and fascinating sights really made this city a very enjoyable place to explore and to just be there. We fell in love with it, but we must go on to the next destination, an even more remote Silk Road city that is situated next to a desert. We were ready for Khiva.