Returning to Bukhara: Rediscovering Bukhoroi Sharif
Bukhara is one of those cities where the past never feels very far away. Brick streets, madrasas, minarets and courtyards carry traces of its long history, while everyday life continues around them in different languages, traditions and rhythms.
For me, however, Bukhara has always been more than a historic city. I was born and grew up there, although most of my everyday life was in the modern part of the city rather than its historic center. Old Bukhara was familiar to me, but it was not the neighborhood where I lived. During my high-school years, I went there from time to time because my school was nearby.
Back then, I did not think much about the historical importance of what I was seeing. The Ark, madrasas, minarets and narrow streets were familiar sights. I probably paid much less attention to them than I do today.
After living abroad for many years, I find myself looking at Bukhara more carefully. I notice the languages I hear, the food, the architecture and the different layers of history and culture that once seemed simply part of everyday life.
Returning for work also made the journey itself feel different. Train stations and the airport became part of the experience of coming back to a city I already knew so well. There is something particular about approaching a familiar place after spending much of your life elsewhere. The destination is known, but your way of seeing it has changed.
During this work-related visit, I had another opportunity to spend time in the historic part of Bukhara. I was not looking at it as a first-time visitor, but as someone returning after years abroad and noticing more of what had once seemed ordinary.
Bukhoroi Sharif
Bukhara is often respectfully called Bukhoroi Sharif, meaning Bukhara the Noble. The name reflects the special place the city has held in the history of Islamic scholarship, learning and spiritual life. For centuries, Bukhara was an important center of education and religion in Central Asia, and its madrasas, mosques and other historic landmarks still reflect that legacy.
But Bukhoroi Sharif is more than its famous monuments. Its character can also be found in its streets and old houses, in the languages people speak, in local food traditions and in everyday life. The past and present exist side by side here, with daily life continuing among reminders of the city's long history.
The Ark: A Familiar Landmark Seen Differently
The Ark of Bukhara was familiar to me long before I thought seriously about its history. During my high-school years, when I occasionally came to the old part of Bukhara, places like the Ark were simply part of the historic city around us.
Its massive walls rise above the surrounding area and recall Bukhara's past as the seat of an emirate. For centuries, the Ark was closely connected with the rulers of Bukhara and the political life of the city.
When a famous place is close to you, you do not necessarily think about its significance every time you see it. Years later, I began looking at the Ark differently, not only as a familiar landmark, but also as a place carrying a much longer story.
Kalyan Minaret and the Skyline of Bukhara
Another landmark that is almost impossible to separate from the image of Bukhara is the Kalyan Minaret, or Minorai Kalon. It has stood above Bukhara for centuries and remains one of the most recognizable parts of the city's historic skyline.
From a distance, the minaret rises above the lower rooftops together with Bukhara's domes and other historic structures. Up close, its scale, proportions and brickwork become much more noticeable.
One view I particularly enjoyed during this visit was from our hotel terrace. Ordinary neighborhood rooftops filled the foreground, while historic domes and minarets appeared farther away. I liked the contrast because it showed two sides of Bukhara at once: the everyday city where people live and the historic skyline for which Bukhara is known.
At street level, the perspective changes again. From above, you see domes, minarets and rooftops. Once you enter the old streets, your attention moves to brick walls, doors, passages, courtyards and smaller architectural details.
Around Lyabi-Hauz and the Old Streets
Some of the scenes I enjoyed most were not necessarily in front of the largest monuments. Around Lyabi-Hauz, the atmosphere feels different. The water, old trees, historic buildings, outdoor seating and people moving through the area create a more relaxed side of the old city.
Walking through the surrounding streets, you constantly move between history and ordinary life. One moment you are looking at centuries-old architecture; a few steps later, you are passing a café, a shop or people simply going about their day.
This is one of the things I wanted to capture in my photographs. Bukhara is not an open-air museum frozen in the past. It is a living city where everyday life continues alongside its historic architecture.
The Tajik Language: Part of the Sound of Bukhara
There is another side of Bukhara that photographs cannot easily capture: language. Tajik is commonly heard in Bukhara alongside Uzbek. For someone born there, hearing both languages in everyday life does not necessarily feel unusual. It is simply part of the environment.
Only after living away for many years did I begin to think more consciously about how distinctive this is. Bukhara's Uzbek and Tajik cultural influences do not fit neatly into separate boxes. They appear in language, family life, customs and food.
This is an important part of Bukhara's character that can easily be missed if we look only at its famous architecture. Architecture tells one part of Bukhara's story. Language tells another.
Oshi Sofi, Qurutob and Bukhara's Food Culture
Food is another way Bukhara's regional identity becomes visible. Uzbek cuisine is sometimes presented internationally as though the same dishes and traditions are found everywhere in exactly the same form. In reality, different regions have their own characteristics and local food traditions.
In Bukhara, Oshi Sofi is closely associated with local food culture. Like language, food reflects some of the cultural influences that give Bukhara its distinctive character.
During this visit, I also tried something completely new to me: qurutob. Despite being born in Bukhara, I had never eaten it before. I was told that it was a Tajik dish, so I decided to try it, and I liked it.
There was something amusing about discovering a new taste in my own birthplace. Bukhara was familiar to me, yet it could still introduce me to something I had never experienced before. It was a small moment, but perhaps that is what made it memorable. Returning to a familiar place does not mean returning only to things we already know. Sometimes a place that has been part of us from the beginning can still surprise us.
The Different Communities of Bukhoroi Sharif
Bukhara's character has also been shaped by different peoples, languages and religious communities over generations.
Uzbek and Tajik traditions are deeply intertwined in the city. At the same time, Bukhara was home for centuries to a long-established Jewish community, widely known through the history of the Bukharan Jews.
Bukhoroi Sharif is strongly associated with Islam and Islamic scholarship, but its history was not shaped by only one community. People of different backgrounds lived in Bukhara and contributed to its social and cultural life.
Another historical layer developed during the twentieth century. After the rule of the last Emir of Bukhara, Amir Sayyid Alim Khan, ended in 1920, Bukhara entered the Soviet period. Over the following decades, the Russian language and Soviet cultural influences became increasingly visible, alongside people who came from different parts of the Soviet Union.
Growing up in Bukhara, I did not necessarily think of all these influences separately. Different languages and cultural backgrounds were simply part of the environment around us. Only later, especially after living abroad, did I begin to look at these layers more consciously.
A Glimpse of Bukhara's Jewish Heritage
The history of Bukhara's Jewish community was particularly relevant during this visit because part of our work was connected with international migration, including Jewish diaspora communities. We therefore wanted to see some of the places associated with this part of Bukhara's history.
We found the synagogue and other traces of the community, but the synagogue was closed when we visited. We also hoped to see the Jewish cemetery, but access was restricted and we were not permitted to enter.
Our encounter with this part of Bukhara's heritage therefore remained mostly from the outside. Still, it added another dimension to the way I looked at my birthplace. Bukhoroi Sharif is famous for its Islamic heritage, but its longer story also includes different peoples, languages and religious communities that became part of the city's life across generations.
Seeing My Birthplace Differently
Perhaps the most meaningful discovery was not that Bukhara is historic or beautiful. I already knew that. What had changed was the way I was looking at it.
After years of living abroad, I notice things that I might once have passed without thinking: the sound of Tajik in everyday conversations, regional food traditions, the texture of old brick walls, the contrast between modern Bukhara and its historic center, and the different cultural layers that have shaped the city.
Bukhara is not simply somewhere I once lived and left behind. It is my birthplace and a city to which I still have a strong personal connection, even though much of my present life has been built in Korea.
Perhaps that is why returning to Bukhara feels different from travelling to an ordinary destination.
There is the monumental Bukhara of the Ark, Kalyan Minaret and the old city. There is Bukhoroi Sharif, shaped by centuries of scholarship, faith and history. And there is the Bukhara of Uzbek and Tajik languages and traditions, regional food and different communities whose stories became part of the city.
And then there is my Bukhara, the city where I was born and grew up. I know it well. Yet after being away, I seem to notice something different every time I return.
Sometimes we have to live far from a place to begin seeing just how much of it we carry with us.
