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brimming with life Boulder Dushanbe Teahouse

So Boulder first. It’s snuggled up in the foothills of Rocky mountains. The Continental Divide 15 air miles off perhaps explains its “other side” feel. The 5,400 ft altitude puts it on a rarified pedestal. Obsessive about its clean air, Boulderites prefer bicycles. The only pollution is the air of snootiness. A couple of decades ago Dushanbe Mayor Maksud Ikramov got wind of Boulder’s “natural” leanings. He came calling in 1987 and must have said, “Wow, let’s be sister cities, bro! I’ll make you an offer you can’t refuse.” Papers got signed. From 1987-1990, nearly 40 Tajikistan (93 per cent mountain) artisans descended in Boulder, hand-carved and hand-painted highly decorative ceilings, tables, stools, columns, and elaborate ceramic panels for an entire Teahouse, supervised by architect Lado Shanidze.

Central Asians have a thing about teahouses. After a day’s border conflict, they gather here to play chess or plain argue over cups of tea. Art never being far away from life, teahouses bravely wear lavish decorative motifs – stellar, solar, floral – repeated all over the walls and pillars in bright colours. The Tajiks would gift a replica to the plain-walled Boulder. So, on to the Teahouse. While you wait for the food, look up. The main woodcarvers Manon Khaidarov and Mirpulat Mirakhmatov have left their name carved there, if you can decipher the squiggles. The white panels that frame the oil paintings are special. The patterns go back 2,000 years in Persian art.

The place looks crowded because the tables are arranged around a central pool (the fish there are not for cooking). Standing on it are seven legendary beauties, made famous in a 12th century poem. Each copper sculpture is that of a princess from a different nation. Each is supposed to tell a tale. Boulder has a (only?) Vegetable Rights Association. It works to increase public awareness that vegetables are living beings and that hurting them is cruel. But the Teahouse doesn’t allow the sentiment to interfere with its patrons’ right to choice. Starting as a chai-pani place, it has surrendered to global temptations. It’s world-spanning: Chinese, French, Indonesian, Vietnamese, Moroccan, Tajik (of course!), Persian, Mexican, Szechuan, Greek, Hawaiian, Brazilian and Asian BBQ.

No Indian? There’s Indian Kalaa Masala – “traditional Indian curry of roasted spices, chiles, coconut and cashews stewed with potatoes, peas, eggplant, carrot and onion. Served with white rice and herb and garlic naan. Indian Samosas are “seasoned potatoes, peas, onions and spices in pastry. Served with mango chutney and raita. $5:75 only.

Time for tea. In endless variety. It could be hot and house-made or fine with a world of flavours. It could be ice-cream “infused with Green Tea, Teahouse Chai or Lady Grey’s Garden Tea”.

It could be slices of teacake, with or without ginger. The waitress is willing to chat about tea. Fresh tea comes in elaborate style, has a tiny minute-glass-timer in the tray. Helps you to pour. Well-done!

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