Winter colours

March 10, 2009

Back blogging after some busy time. Generally nothing has changed much… Winter is still here,  not really looking like leaving soon and giving way to Spring. Snow is falling almost every day with sometimes a ray of sunshine. Real happiness ! Mostly though the main shade you see all around is  grey and white and it makes you dream of colours.  Plenty of colours !neyruz-garden-jams-diary-006“Let the Spring come in !”

A good time for staying inside and quilt, one of my favourite activities in every season.  Through Flickr I came across this blog I visited with great pleasure :

It inspired me to look for my scraps of  bright and colourful fabrics. Soon I started sewing my own calendar quilt. Here are the three first months of this year, Winter colours I imagined for January, February and March.calendar-quilt-spring-001Thanks to everyone on Calendar quilt challenge for their wonderful blog and creativity.

One of my favourite colours is orange. Looking around for this warm shade that would brighten up  my Winter, I spotted a basket full of  oranges, so juicy and sweet, just begging to be put into jars… Which I did ! more colours, scents, the cardamon, cinamon and vanilla adding a touch of sunshineneyruz-garden-jams-diary-004Those are the colours of my Winter, shades that look and taste good. Colours that  sooner or later will bring back Spring  !

Sparks of Central Asia

January 16, 2009


Mid-March in Moscow, the roads of the city were still bordered with heaps of wet and dirty snow, the sun had been scarce and timid for months,  the temperatures  still low. During a vacation, I felt like heading South for a while and spend a few days in Central Asia. I chose the Republic of Uzbekhistan for all I had read about Samarkand, Bukhara, Khiva, the Silk Road, the famous astronomer Ulug Beg, Tamerlan’s loved wife, Bibi Khanum and more. Those ancient and brilliant civilisations that I had been dreaming of learning more about and seeing what the present cities looked like.

I think the Aeroflot flight took about 6-7 hours from Moscow to Samarkand. It was my first flight outside the Russian capital since I had arrived there in the late Fall. A great excitement ! As soon as the plane landed and the doors of the Tupolev were opened,  all passengers were welcomed by Spring.  We had left snow and a cold Winter in Moscow and found sunshine, flowerbeds, a sweet scent of roses in the parks,  along the roads leading to the center of Samarkand. What a joy ! I will never forget my first day in Central Asia. It looked definitely like another continent to me, one of colours (the  clothes Uzbeks were wearing as well as the blue mosaics covering many ancient buildings and medresse, islamic schools).  A world of scents I discovered going to the market, so many more vegetables and fruits than in Moscow at the same season ! I bought peaches, grapes, figs, even cherries if I remember well. I ate  spicy roasted lamb kebabs in small shops along the streets, I loved drinking glasses of a strong black tea in a “tchaikhanas” (houses where tea is served). I just enjoyed strolling around, trying to find my way in the narrow alleys leading to hidden palaces and antique ruins.  People were friendly and eager to meet foreigners at that time but talking to them was a bit difficult; my Russian knowledge was still poor, I did not know any word in uzbeki arabic. Sometimes I would find someone understanding a bit of English or German. But still I was welcomed anywhere I went and helped and guided as much as possible.

It has been a long time since my travel to Uzbekhistan,  politics and new ways of life brought changes there too, good or less so. The Uzbekh Republic no longer belongs to the Soviet Union, wars have been raging at its borders, time surely has left its marks on this ancient world like everywhere else. My memories of this journey (far too short) to the ancient Uzbekh cities remain  filled with admiration for all its historic figures, the architecture of its monuments that bears witness to a prestigious past. And last by not least, the warm welcome I received by the people I met.