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| Chaïkhana au bord de la rivière Varzob. |
Varzob deserves its name. Its abundant and nervous flow runs through Dushanbe before being captured by the river Kofarnikhon, born like it in Gissar mounts, and which is going to take it in the Amu-Darya waters, the Oxus river at the era of Alexander the Great. The Amu-Darya, if we include the Panj river which composes its upper, defines the border between Tajikistan and Afghanistan and, more approximately, between Uzbekistan and Turkmenistan, before reaching the Aral Sea depleted because the evaporation and the intensive captation of its water. Unfortunate Amu-Darya, always lookking for its path and its sea in steppic zones, sometimes opting for the West and the Caspian Sea, sometimes for the North and the Aral. The Varzob valley is taken by the M34 road which connects Dushanbe to Khodjent. The river crosses impressive gorges. A number of small towns stays along it when it approaches the Tajik capital. Several chaykhani are installed at the edge of its water, with tapshans like terraces above the fast runing water. It is enjoying eating there fishes and eels. These places are very appreciated by Douchanbi people.
Left by taxi to Varzob city located at 25 kilometers from Dushanbe, I return by foot in following the M34. Local people are unkind. When I speak to them about tapshan, they shake the head no and the women look away. I meet nevertheless Bakhtiyor, a young farmer who shows me his fields. Bees, vineyards, apple trees, vegetables, some goats. His domain is on a dry mound, so he built an irrigation system by collecting the water on the opposite side of the mountain. An overhead pipe crosses the narrow valley in runing well above the road. A hole in the pipe gives birth to a magnificent iridescent water jet. Bakhtiyor went to Russia for working and earning money which has allowed him last month to settle down and get married. He offers me grapes and apples. Before leaving us, he adresses to me a signal by tapping his throat with a finger. The usual way to invite somebody to share a good old swig of vodka.
Left by taxi to Varzob city located at 25 kilometers from Dushanbe, I return by foot in following the M34. Local people are unkind. When I speak to them about tapshan, they shake the head no and the women look away. I meet nevertheless Bakhtiyor, a young farmer who shows me his fields. Bees, vineyards, apple trees, vegetables, some goats. His domain is on a dry mound, so he built an irrigation system by collecting the water on the opposite side of the mountain. An overhead pipe crosses the narrow valley in runing well above the road. A hole in the pipe gives birth to a magnificent iridescent water jet. Bakhtiyor went to Russia for working and earning money which has allowed him last month to settle down and get married. He offers me grapes and apples. Before leaving us, he adresses to me a signal by tapping his throat with a finger. The usual way to invite somebody to share a good old swig of vodka.
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| Structure métallique d'un tapchane dans le champ de Bakhtiyor à Varzob. |
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