Studying Sokh — an Uzbek enclave in Kyrgyzstan, 65 kilometres from the border — is a fascinating and rather challenging task. As a transboundary settlement, it remains difficult to reach even for researchers, let alone tourists. Yet its landscapes and 3,000-year history — as a trading and infrastructure hub during the heyday of Bactria and Sogdia — make it a coveted destination for those wishing to tread the ancient caravan routes. The remarkable nature of Sokh is the subject of the first part of a photo essay by Ildar Sadykov and Sergei Pogosyan.
The nature of Sokh is inseparable from its economy and history. Since ancient times, the Sokh River has nourished the lands of the modern enclave and sustained life in the region. The place was known even before our era as an oasis of extraordinary fertility. Sokh is mentioned in the famous "Baburnama" as a refuge of the great Zahir-ud-din Muhammad Babur.
Photo: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanThe mountains here shape a distinctive landscape, with villages nestled right against them, which defies the usual tradition and makes Sokh's vistas unique. Sokh is a remote oasis both physically and administratively. The very geography that once fostered its development now intensifies its isolation, demanding new infrastructural solutions and initiatives.
During the three days we spent in Sokh, I saw more wonders than I dared to dream of. We deliberately arrived in early spring, although "knowledgeable" people insisted that nature blooms later. We happened upon the Navruz celebrations, which were held slightly ahead of schedule, and we did not regret it in the least. Everything breathed with the very first stirrings of spring.
I mostly photograph people, and before the expedition I deliberately avoided looking at pictures online. I wanted Sokh to reveal itself to me as it truly is, not as others see it.
Photo: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanThe life-giving Sokh is a wayward river. It carries abundant water, its channel sometimes narrowing dramatically — here people ford the river on foot — and sometimes spreading far wider. Swimming here is, alas, impossible due to the overly strong current. Yet the vistas of pristine beauty could serve as the finest backdrop for leisure.
Despite the nascent construction of tourist facilities, international journalists, tourists, and bloggers rarely visit Sokh. We had the feeling that we were the only guests in the hotels. The enclave's population of 90,000 are Tajik speakers; they have gradually forgotten Russian, and language barriers and communication difficulties arose more than once.
Nevertheless, the hakim himself came out to greet us and immediately ordered that we be treated as the most important of guests, with everyone, young and old, offering every possible assistance in our work.
Photo: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanSokh consists of around 30 densely populated villages.
Kairak greeted the visitors with morning mist, haze, and birdsong. Nightingales and canaries are common inhabitants of these parts. Here the delegation also encountered its first Russian-speaking residents.
Next came the apricot orchards. Higher up in the foothills, the apricots had not yet blossomed, while below, thanks to the variations in terrain, the climate was entirely different, and there the flowering was already in full swing.
The mountain dwellers have devised a system of drip irrigation that makes it possible to cultivate fruit orchards. Pipes were laid through the clay hills to collect water in a reservoir at the highest point — which struck me as a true marvel. The water from this reservoir is then released into the orchards for watering.
Photo: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanThe people of Sokh are exceedingly industrious, which comes as no surprise, for horticulture has sustained them and their large families for many thousands of years. Attempts were made to grow raspberries, but they did not take. Today, the main crop cultivated here is rice.
One of Sokh's principal landmarks is Plov Mountain. It truly resembles a lagan piled high with rice and meat. The strata here astonish with their colours — from yellow and red to white and green. These are, quite literally, slices of history.
Photo: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanPhoto: Ildar Sadykov, Sergey PogosyanAnd beneath it all lies an ordinary village, home to people who hope their corner will become the new tourism hub of the Fergana Valley.
The eternal dialogue of water, mountains, and humankind — that is the essence of this land's nature. The river that gives life to the oasis, the mountainous terrain that shapes the place's character, and at the head and heart of it all — the people, who for millennia have learned to overcome constraints through creation.
To learn more about Sokh, read our feature:
Cross-Border Exclaves: Sokh DistrictThe transformation of the Sokh District from a strategic node along ancient trade routes into an isolated cross-border enclave represents a classic case study in political geography and regional economics. The development of this territory over three millennia demonstrates a direct correlation between demographic and economic processes and the hydrological regime of the Sokh River, which has long been a principal driver of economic development in the Fergana Valley.mag.humodoc.com
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