The first one, as usual, this trio gave us 10 rubles each. All the fun, as always according to the law of the genre, began in the second game. I got almost "nebitka" - jack with a lady. But, obviously, these three came also a good card, because they immediately raised the stakes up to 25 rubles. But the worst thing in our situation was that Oleg, apparently, had a very good card, because his eyes caught fire. And he began to raise the stakes, but we had money in common. Soon the bank reached 200 rubles (our 100), and there was nothing for us to support the con. It was necessary to determine urgently - who to stay in the game. "Seryoga, go away, I have a great card!" - whispered Oleg. "So, in fact, I, quite frankly, are not bad at all!" - I objected weakly and still dropped the cards. The game continued. "All bets are accepted! - solemnly proclaimed "Siply" and opened his cards - he had a "nebitka" in two jacks. We have the same with Oleg he gave to the lady and jack, psychologically, everything is very accurately calculated. The maps, of course, were "sprinkled".
Thus, in just 10 minutes of the game Siplom managed to get all our money from us, including money for the way back to Barnaul. I decided to act. I grabbed an ID card from my pocket, and I cried out loud: "Stand, the police, the bank is confiscated!" - and covered the money with his hand. The Uzbeks became very pale; Siply also was at first confused, but then quickly "took himself in hand" (apparently, the prison hardening affected) and hissed like a snake: "What is it, cops, lost, so pay, you that do not know whether you know what ? "- and he quickly cleared all the money from the table into his pocket with the words:" Here you guys are not Siberia, here you guys are Asia! Here, such things do not pass, and you can very quickly turn out to be a "blunder", dropped from the train. No one will even look for you here. Okay, the road is a road - here you have 3 rubles each for "maintaining your pants", and walk, Vasya, "chew the filings"! "
The trio rose and proudly retired to the next car, very pleased with herself. We were sitting with Oleg, completely crushed, seeing absolutely no way out of the situation.
Arriving in Samarkand, we immediately took tickets for the return trip to Tashkent (he once cost 3 rubles - "Siply" that turned out to be a real humanist). It was necessary to pass the whole day in a pocket without money for the hungry in Samarkand.
But once came, we must travel, no matter what. And we went to Registan.
Registan (from "reg" - sand, "stan" - place, literally - "a place covered with sand") - the traditional name of the main squares in the cities of the Middle East. Registan Square in the center of Samarkand refers to the famous architectural ensemble of the 15th-10th centuries, centered on Ulugbek madrasah, Sherdor madrassa and Tilla-Kari madrasah. Thus, Registan in Samarkand is nothing more than an architectural and religious complex consisting of three madrasahs, connected in series, and the area between them (see photo 13).
Oleg and I liked Registan very much, especially its mosaic panel with geometric ornamentation, made of colored bricks, irrigated and carved ceramics. And, of course, the traditional attributes of the madrasah are magnificent minarets, domes and pointed arches.
Only now, after leaving Registan, we felt - what you want to eat! With water without money in Samarkand, too, there was a big "strained" - I had to drink tap water in the toilet of the railway station. A little inspiration only thought that in Tashkent, Oleg has a longtime acquaintance in tourism Rafael Khizmatullin. All our hope was only for him. What if he's not at home? I did not even want to think about it. Wandering aimlessly through Samarkand to "kill" the time remaining before the train, we accidentally wandered into the Muslim cemetery, standing on a hill between the highway and a small apricot grove. By the cemetery, "healthy" boogies of the Asian type "defile" with hideous, brutal faces. They angrily looked at us and, apparently surprised by our arrogance (ignorance of the real situation gives sometimes courage - "courage of insanity"), for some reason, did not dare to attack first. I only later realized that this Ra had taken away from us a real death threat - they were Crimean Tatars, who always had incredible cruelty. They are not in vain so angry with us, because in the cemetery of the Crimean Tatars at that time the Russians were generally categorically forbidden entry.
Finally, we, somehow, held out until evening, and now we are sitting, "happy", in a stuffy dirty car, packed with Uzbeks like herring in a barrel. After all, it was necessary to know that for the weekend, according to the ancient Asian tradition, Samarkand relatives go to visit relatives of Tashkent. And we once happened to be on the road in this unfortunate car just on such a "family" Saturday - eight people on one shelf and the drunken Uzbek always fell to us on top (he probably broke all his ribs during these falls!). In the car periodically someone turned off the light and there was a heartrending female cry in Uzbek, understandable and without an interpreter: "They stole!" A gang of thieves was running all the way in the car.
Arriving in Tashkent, we first went in search of our Raphael, praying to God that he was at home. However, God did not hear us, and no one discovered us in an apartment on the
