Post from Bukhara, Uzbekistan: A jumble of cultures

Article by the Max-Planck-Gesellschaft in the category International - „Post from...“

Basira Mir Makhamad from the Max Planck Institute of Geoanthropology in Jena regularly travels to Central Asia for her research. Using plant seeds she finds at archaeological sites along the Silk Road, the Kyrgyz-born researcher reconstructs the development of agriculture and the dietary habits of her ancestors.

Who am I? Where do I belong? Questions like these are probably quite normal for a teenager. For me, they were of central importance back then: I come from Kyrgyzstan and grew up in a multicultural family, with a mother of Russian descent and an Afghan father. We celebrated Christian holidays just as much as Muslim ones, and in addition to my native language, Russian, I also learned Kyrgyz and a little Farsi as a child. This cultural mishmash was ultimately probably the reason I became an archaeobotanist: I wanted to learn more about my ancestors’ past and, through that, my own identity.

After graduating from high school, I applied to study anthropology at the American University of Central Asia in Bishkek. I was rejected four times because my English wasn’t good enough. But I didn’t let that deter me and tried a fifth time. Eventually, they must have figured that if someone is crazy enough to keep trying, it’s a sign of genuine interest and perseverance. I got accepted and was even allowed to study there for free.

The remains of plants from earlier times are like a window into the past: with their help, we cannot only find out what people grew and ate back then. We can also trace the old trade routes and show how diet and agriculture have changed over time, not least due to the increasingly arid climate. This provides us with valuable insights for the present, especially in times of global warming.

For my research, I travel to various excavation sites in Central Asia, including Bukhara in southwestern Uzbekistan, occupied at least for the last 2,500 years already. Today, Bukhara’s beautiful old town is a Unesco World Heritage Site. The excavation site is located in the city center, near the citadel. A modern shopping center is planned to be built where a bazaar once stood. However, I still hope that the historical value of the site will be recognized and the project will be scrapped.

While the archaeologists dig for human artifacts, I collect sediment from fire pits and cesspits. The deposits contain food scraps and feces, and thus also grains, fruit pits, or seeds from spice plants that have been lying dormant there for many centuries. Layer by layer, I work my way back into the past, all the way to the time of Genghis Khan and far beyond. To extract the plant remains, I use the flotation method: the sediment is mixed with water to form a slurry, so that the heavy mineral components sink to the bottom while the lighter seeds collect at the surface. I scoop them out with a fine sieve and spread them out to dry.

The next step is to identify the specimens. And that’s when the real work begins! Until recently, I would sit at the microscope for up to 10 hours straight. Eventually, my eye doctor put her foot down: because my nearsightedness had worsened significantly as a result, I’m now only allowed to look through the microscope for two hours at a time and have to give my eyes a break by doing other activities in between. Yet despite the laborious counting involved, it saddens me that the traditional methods of archaeobotany are gradually disappearing – even though they are not only cost-effective but also highly reliable. Instead, funding largely goes into projects that rely on molecular techniques. Leading research centres, including our institute, stop working in the field of archaeobotany.

In my home country, it’s especially hard to make it as a female archaeobotanist. Women are expected to become housewives, or at best school teachers, kindergarten educators, or doctors. My work, on the other hand, isn’t taken seriously: When I tell people about it, I often get comments asking if I’d rather come over and dig up their garden. Even in my open-minded family, there were many discussions: My father had a dream that I would work in the field of international relations, while my mom wanted me to study medicine. My grandmother would have preferred it if I had followed in her footsteps and become an accountant. But they have since come to terms with the fact that I’m going my own way. And if science doesn’t work out in the long run, accounting would still be an option, my grandma says.