Absenteeism

Things are well on the whole in Kyrgyzstan. I've been a truant writer because I have been running around trying to get a visa together, as well as attempting to put a promotional movie together for the Alpine Fund. In addition, I have been getting a couple of English classes going. So the last three weeks have been all about getting the kinks out of stuff. In a lot of ways this made life a bit tedious and frustrating. 

Getting a visa is all about getting enough stamps and letters and submitting the right bit of paper to the right person in exchange for the addition to another piece of paper. The offices are in different parts of town and whenever you don't fall very clearly into a bureaucratic slot, no one really knows what the answer is... my 'language tutored independent social research' definitely does not fit well with the program of needing to have all sorts of papers and such from a university to get a student visa... but a tourist visa and a business visa don't fit either. I finally cleared a major hurdle on Thursday when a seemingly random official in a seemingly random office looked at my papers, made me fetch another letter from someone, looked at my letters again and then signed one of the papers. Then I gave my papers to a functionary and was informed that a decision as to my status would be rendered by committee in two weeks. The  ability of a signature to cut through all the red tape definitely leads to corruption. 

I learned a lot about corruption at the universities and among officials here in the last couple weeks (honestly, through conversation, not personal experience). Its a fascinating dance and its really screwed up. I hope to collect the tidbits into a coherent mass soon.

In other news some of my friends at the bazaar are in danger of having their houses bulldozed. Some of the local women leaders are pressing for a solution with a judge. They seem to be under pressure from powerful figures who have arranged to have their power shut off for as many as five days at a time. 

So I am eager to start learning more about that situation tomorrow.

With random computer troubles, visa limbo and uncertain english class attendance behind me, at least for now, its nice to be back to doing work that feels like it adds up to something.

Sorry for not writing much, I plan to have more to write about, and not just gripe about, soon.

Ditka's Power Has Dwindled

Obama's election was the first time I felt really happy, deeply soulfully happy, about a political contest. No doubt the burden of reality will push elation aside quickly. But a great moment is a great moment and I've been happily savoring this one. 

The view of the election from Kyrgyzstan is interesting. Most people don't know very much about Obama's biography but are happy that he one. He noted for being black... unfortunately in Russian the term "Niggr'" still gets tossed around casually, though of course the cultural context is totally removed from the history of repression, hate and abuse in the US. The translation carries only moderate derision.

So most people are in favor of the new president. This opinion is basically based on a naive belief that a new president can "stop" the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq. These opinions uninformed by the fact that Obama campaigned on a promise to escalate military involvement in Afghanistan. But I have little doubt that if they were as informed as most Americans that they would come to the same conclusion. Much of the reaction is fairly typical Russian-esque ambivalence.

Coverage of the election results on the news cycles out of Moscow was given little more time than the average news story and as stuck in between a nasty car accident in Moscow and a folk dance.

Unfortunately the poor coverage of a historic and triumphant moment in American history (irrespective of political orientation) was matched by very poor US coverage of the Russian response. As you probably heard, the Russians announced they would move missiles up to the Polish border in response to the US missile shield. What was not mentioned is that Medvedev offered a refreshingly sober assessment of the state of Russian democracy/governance. 

"In our days, at the new level of development, Russian society confirms its adherence to the democratic values of the constitution. On the whole, it has embraced democratic habits, practices and procedures. Unlike in the recent past, our citizens no longer associate the democratic structure with chaos, powerlessness or degradation. New Russia has proved its ability to fulfil social obligations and ensure economic growth, guarantee citizens' rights and demand law abidance, and successfully fight terrorism and external aggression.

Now it is not a question of whether democracy can exist in Russia, as it used to be not so long ago, only 15 years ago. It is clear that democracy can exist in Russia. This is obvious and nobody is arguing with this. The question now is about the way Russian democracy should develop in future. I believe that Russian citizens are much more ready for free enterprise, professional as well as social and political, than at the beginning of the reforms, enterprise without state guardianship. More and more people are relying on themselves, first and foremost. They believe that their personal success and consequently the success of the whole country, depends on them. This is why it is not only possible but necessary to increase the level of trust in society. (Applause)

Meanwhile, state bureaucracy is still - as well as 20 years ago - going by the same mistrust of free people and free enterprise. This logic prompts it (bureaucracy) to make dangerous conclusions and take dangerous steps. Now and then bureaucracy makes life a nightmare for business - what if they do something wrong; it takes the media under its control for them not to say something wrong; it meddles in the election process - for people not to elect somebody wrong; it pressurizes courts for them not to bring in wrong verdicts, and so on. (Applause) As a result, the state machine is a major employer, the most active publisher, the best producer, as well as its own court, party and its own nation, in the long run. A system like this is not al all effective and creates one thing only - corruption. (Applause) It gives birth to mass legal nihilism. It contradicts the constitution, puts brakes on the development of innovative economy and democratic institutions. A strong state and omnipotent bureaucracy are not the same thing. A civil society needs the former as a tool to develop and support order, to protect and strengthen political institutions, while the latter is mortally dangerous for it. This is why our society should develop democratic institutions in a calm, persevering way and not putting it off.

Democratic institutions, which have been created in the past few years, and, let's be honest, on an instruction from the top, must take root in all social layers. To do this, we need constantly prove the viability of democratic order, and second, entrust more and more social and political functions directly to citizens, their organizations and self-governing bodies.

No, the state must not renounce responsibility for its sphere of authority and we must act pragmatically, soberly assessing risks, but action is really needed."

So, there is more hope for Russian domestic politics than is typically reported in the US. Also, the Russian perspective on US policy is biased but not fundamentally rooted in any enormous lie. Its fun to have an adversary and always politically and market-wise (news coverage) expedient to paint an antogist as fundamentally irrational and baseless. It is also not constructive over the long term.

Obama is Finished

http://blogs.wsj.com/washwire/2008/10/31/mike-ditka-hits-the-campaign-trail-with-palin/

Only one hope left for Obama: a Superbowl Shuffle of the masses at each rally.

Wedding!

The Pictures are not working. Here are a few.

The invitations were sent last week, but everyone had known the date and location for at least a month already anyway. I ended up included in the select group of about 20 close friends and family that would accompany the bride and groom all day. For us, the day started at 9am at the apartment of the couple. There were about 6 guys at the apartment hanging out, watching some TV, snacking on a spread of food prepared by the bride’s younger sister and good friend. After some food and pleasantries, all the guys headed outside here we decorated the cars of the wedding party. Having a caravan of cars drive around with the wedding party is a fixture of weddings in Kyrgyzstan. Each car is festooned with ribbons and balloons. The car with the bride and groom is topped off with some flowery decorations of white flowers and lace. Driving from one place to another, the cars beep their horns pretty much constantly and flaunt traffic laws (which are, by US standards, barely heeded as it is). The bride and groom, of course, ride in style. In this case a new Mercedes, driven and “owned” by a 21 year old. His father’s job was a “secret.” The bride and groom are free to associate all day long. In fact, socially, they are often considered married before the ceremony, especially if the wife is pregnant.

Around 10am we headed for the registratsia (registration). The registratsia is the actual ceremony. Usually a smaller group of closest relatives and friends are invited. The happy couple had picked a popular place for the ceremony, the registration center near the center of Bishkek. For an outsider, it is an odd place. The architecture is Soviet, the idea of being registered with the government as married is fairly Soviet (the Soviet’s pushed this as a fitting alternative to religious wedding ceremonies) but it presents itself, and is seen to be (and therefore is), romantic. It’s probably pretty clear that I would consider this place to be very romantic myself. I just want to make my bias clear.

When we arrived the parking lot was already full of limousines and other finer autos decked out with ribbons and balloons. Going inside the first thing in front of you is a large grand staircase leading to large high doors. Clearly that’s where the procession does down. On either side of the staircase on the second floor one can look over a railing onto the stairway. Underneath these on the first floor is a bridal dress shop and open, unused space. Everything is faux-marble.

When we went inside the wife and maid of honor stepped aside into a small room. As the rest of us waited a freshly married couple emerged from the large high doors and made their way down stairs. They posed for some photos with family and friends and such before politely being ushered out the door. The building photographer let us know that we should get the bride and start. While someone fetched the bride, everyone except the parents of the couple, the best man and maid of honor and the couple themselves made their way to the overlooking area on the second floor by a side stairwell. Some classical music began from the house speakers. The procession made its way up the stairs. We followed them into the main room.

The center of the room was cordoned off from the guests. Our photographer tried to cross the boundary and was immediately put into place once more by a security guard dressed exactly as a security guard. The ceremony was conducted by a woman dressed traditionally, though semi-casually (some of the traditional outfits get elaborate). Her role was well rehearsed though by no means monotonous. She spoke about all of the happy and good things in store for the couple. The couple was asked to light a torch from a flame in a sort of cauldron, about the size and shape of a birdbath. They held the torch together and this signified their love. While classical marriage music played from the CD near the speaker, the ceremony conductor gave the equivalent of the “I do” speech before asking the parents if they protested the marriage. Then they put the rings on each other’s hands before signing the papers. Having signed the papers (the best man and bride’s maid serving as witnesses) they were pronounced man and wife. We all applauded and more classical music played us out of the room.

This time everyone used the side stairway as the previous party wrapped up their picture taking on the grand staircase. Then we started taking pictures and they kindly invited me now and then to join in a picture of the bride’s side of the family. From this point on I played the part of photographer because my camera is pretty good and it kept me from feeling awkward as the only person I knew beyond introduction was the bride.

We took more pictures outside of the building. Then we drove about 3 blocks away to the Great Patriotic War memorial (a staple of any Soviet inhabitance, its size and grandeur proportional to the size of the community). There we took more pictures and the toasting began. They asked me to give a toast but I didn’t really understand what was going on. (I thought they were insisting that I have a second glass of champagne, and in my defense, the word ‘toast,’ pronounced exactly as in English, was never uttered). The father and brother in-law of the bride had already given toasts. As the video camera rested for an awkwardly long time on me, I went through some denial and dread before coming to terms with the situation. Panicked, I stuck to English which at least the bride and the brother in-law would understand. Next time I’ll be prepared.

After more pictures and toasts, we released a couple of white pigeons which was pretty fun. We all piled back in our cars and headed for another park where still more pictures were snapped, this time just friends as family rested up for the big night ahead. The bride and groom filmed a funny little video that I only caught the tail end of about the groom finding the bride in the park. It was getting towards 12 or even 1 and everyone was starting to get hungry. Such as it was, however, we were running behind and had to skip lunch. We had another park to attend to.

This next park was “Manas Village.” The government built the park in 1995 to commemorate the 1000^th Anniversary of the Manas epic (think the Oddessy and the Illiad combined but not like Aenis… more like 10 times longer and way more central to people’s national identity). The park is full of little concrete landmarks and bits of Kyrgyz nationhood. Overall, it’s an alright park. Guarding the entrance are orphans who refuse to let you pass without paying them. Such is their right according to the traditions of Islam. But its gotten to be a little too profitable and fun what with half the wedding parties in Bishkek coming to the park. We made more toasts. Vodka was introduced nefariously by the younger brother of the groom.

We headed for the place of the reception, about 40 minutes outside of town and nearer to the relatives. By now the driver was well-tipsied. I wish I had been more so as we swung into the oncoming lane and passed fully loaded trucks on the right shoulder around bends in the middle of villages.

The last leg of the wedding journey was roughly equivalent to a reception. About 200 friends and family gathered at a café in a village on the outskirts of Bishkek’s orbit. At one end of the rectanglar room sat the bride and groom, nearest to them were seated the elder relatives. Further away was the closer family including parents, siblings, aunts and uncles. Near the “back” friends and cousins sat next to the speakers and open space. All evening long relatives would give toasts and pass along well wishes for the new family. Awaiting us was a huge spread of food.

An MC introduced the new couple who made their way down the length of the room accompanied by more classical wedding music and showered with gold coins tossed by a grandmother. Almost as soon as they had reached the table, the toasting and happy wishes began. The toasting roughly followed the seating arrangement. The eldest began. Everyone basically repeated the same fond hopes of wealth, happiness, health, and a large family. Their were no funny stories about the couple or much variation away from this theme but the sincerety of the speakers was touching. The couple stood each time they received a blessing. With some 200 people at the reception, the speaking occupied at least 3 of the 6 hours of the reception. Often the parents stood near the speakers in acknowledgement as well. It was remarkable to see so consistent and strong a public demonstration of respect. It also appeared by to quite onerous for the family and couple who already had had such a long and emotional day.

As the MC called up a group of people to wish the couple well, the musicians/DJs (two guys with a keyboard, a soundboard and a pair of microphones would play music while they made their way to the speaking area. The music and the shuffling past row upon row of spectator reminded me of the Price Is Right. After the group of friends or relatives had offered their best wishes, one would remain. He or she would then sing a traditional Kyrgyz song. The musicians would try to find a tune and/or beat on their keyboard that matched the song. At least half the time the match was poor. The singer either had to distort the song to try and make it fit the synthesized music or ignore the back tune such that two distinct tunes and tempos were going at once. Despite the unfortunate use of the keyboard, it was great that people sang old songs in front of friends and family. The willingness to sing mirrored the willingness to dance. The young and old tore up the rug during much appreciated interludes from the speeches. It was during this singing and dancing that the couple was somewhat free to sit down and eat, though much of this time was taken up thanking the speakers face-to-face, accepting presents and socializing.

I sat at the back amongst the cousins. I knew it was trouble as soon as I saw where I would be seated. A couple of young mothers with 1 year-olds were the only element diluting the mass of 20-something men. Surrounding 20-something Kyrgyz men with more 20-something Kyrgyz men creates a positive feedback loop with the negative outcome of drinking a lot of vodka. In this case (and in most others), bad vodka. This sort of unfortunate social reinforcement can be seen at work among politicians of political bodies, bureaucrats in bureaucracies, fraternities full of frat boys and musical festivals full of dirty, dirty hippies. I employed all my favorite preventative measures: I complained about stomach issues of late (true), said that I don’t like vodka (also and increasingly true) and I ate lots of food all night. At 12a I managed to walk away from the wedding in a straight line. When I got back home I drank a little water as cure and woke up feeling fresh and fine.

Tash Rabat

The view of the Caravanserai and the mountain opposite it. Tash Rabat after a snowfall.
More pictures here.


There are some 4-5 posts in a row I just put up. I brought the laptop this time as I was in a town.

The mountains between Kyrgyzstan and China where Tash-Rabat sits are tall. The start from a high elevation and get taller and bigger. It was clear that this place is a shade apart from the rest of Kyrgyzstan when I spotted the first herd of yaks. Everywhere else is cows, horses and sheep. These highlands are home to horses and yaks.

Tash-Rabat is a recently restored caravanserai (rest point for travelers). It dates to about the 10^th century, back when Buddha was all the rage and Muhammed’s followers were still struggling to set up shop. It survived the centuries in relatively good order because it lies some 15km off of the main pass from Kashgar tucked into a modest mountain-rimmed tributary valley.

From the outside, it doesn’t look very big but inside there are more than a dozen rooms and it could easily sleep 150 men. There are rooms set aside for sleeping, gathering, cooking and even a few pits more that 3 meters deep to serve as dungeons. The central room has a high dome and some of the old finish work has yet to crumble off the side of the walls.

The caravanserai now attracts many visitors during the summer. It is one of the best-preserved caravanserai and is located in a pretty location. It is highly attractive to travelers who like to get off the beaten path.

Animal Bazaar

There are no Ponies at this Animal Bazaar

The town of At-Bashy (meaning horse head or horse person), like so many towns in Kyrgyzstan, is situated at the base of a broad mountain valley. It lies on the road north from Kashgar to Naryn and on to Bishkek. As a result, it receives a great deal of Chinese truck traffic hauling goods to bazaars and warehouses in Bishkek. The traffic seems to have a minimal effect on the town. The only gas station I saw (and I traveled the main in and out of town) would have been hard pressed to pump gas for a big rig. The gas was actually pumped into a bucket and then funneled into the tank. Along the road a few trucks making on-the-road repairs were scattered here and there but otherwise the trucks passed through in huge volume but with little social or economic impact on the town.

As the name of the town portends, the economy of the town revolves around the rich animal husbandry made possible by the fertility of the broad valley’s pastureland. Though the town only contains a few thousand people (whereas Naryn has more than 50,000) it is home to the central animal market of a large region (including Naryn, some 60km to the North). The animal bazaar is easily more than twice the size of the bazaar dedicated to people’s material needs and it is impressive. Sheep, cows and horses change hands by the many dozens (horses) and hundreds (sheep). A good sheep sells for around US$ 100, a horse for around US$ 1,000 and a cow for around 500 (I could be off on the cow, the horse and sheep stuck out better in my mind). I am not sure why, but chickens and donkeys were not to be found at the bazaar.

The organization of the bazaar is fluid. Which is to say that from an outsiders perspective, there was none. Once things really got busy around 9am there was little room to bring in new animals at the animal entrance. So herders (all men and boys) tried, and invariably eventually succeeded, in forcing their animals into the selling lot. This is something of a spectacle to behold as cows and horses are accustomed to large open pastures and do like to be crowded into large chaotic places. Trucks full of animals beep and budge their way through the herds. Their owners whip them to make them go one way and occasionally someone else who wants to get through whips them to go another. I quickly learned to avoid the more crowded areas. I am just not acclimated to frightened horses pushing this way and that. The sheep are not a problem. They are scared too but more much easier to control and docile.

Despite the Chinese domination in manufacture and, to a slightly lesser extent, trade of many good both the animal bazaar and the ‘regular’ bazaar were completely filled with Kyrgyz with a Uighur or two at the animal bazaar. The trucks and trucks as well were all old Soviet models. It was quite astonishing to see so many goods literally wash right over this town without leaving much of a trace. The very goods brought through the town seemed to circulate back to it as the same unheard of Chinese brand names in electonics (Sparrow televisions anyone?) and simple cheap goods were available here that one sees everywhere else in Kyrgyzstan.

I met my driver who was to take me onto Tash-Rabat. With a sheep in the trunk and my things in the back seat we left the stress and excitement of the animal bazaar behind and headed to the highlands.

CIS, Soldiers and the State

Recently, Kyrgyzstan hosted the meeting of the Commonwealth of Independent States (CIS) heads of state. The CIS is composed of all of the former Soviet Republics, except for Georgia, which withdrew after the election of Sakashvili (sp?). I happened to be looking for my visa support company near the center of Bishkek the day of the arrival of the various heads of state. In the center of Bishkek is located the Belii Dom or White House, the capital building of Kyrgyzstan.

Traffic was blocked on the main thoroughfare through the center. Police and army privates spaced about 10m apart lined both sides of the street. A couple of officers or sergeants monitored the area and occasionally yelled orders or reprimands to soldiers but overall, discipline seemed pretty lax. It was a cool day. Too cool to be comfortable with only the light jackets they had on but not cold enough to warrant a winter coat. The soldiers slouched, paced at their post and generally looked listless and bored. A few people greeted them, asked questions about directions or what was going on, younger men cracked lighthearted jokes about the soldiers’ unenviable duty. The soldiers chuckled and took part in the levity. Some who were stationed out of the line of sight of the officers wanders a few meters to one side or another to chat with their neighbor. Many ate sunflower seeds. Much to the irritation of the officers, civilians J-walked right toward the Belii Dom right between soldiers, unimpeded.

I watched news coverage of the summit in Naryn. The production quality of the state television news is not outstanding. For this occasion they brought up the seal of the CIS, a welcome to the leaders of the not-quite free world, and an image of Kyrgyzstan and Russia’s flags next to each other and a little blurb about friendship. Each image was displayed in Kyrgyz as well as Russian. The peak was that each time they changed images they played a garish military/state orchestra crescendo. The effect was akin to watching the “We’re back from commercial effect” for the Olympics or Monday Night Football again and again. They went through the rotation in both languages at least 3 times.

What followed was video snippets of Bakaev, the President of the Kyrgyz Republic, shaking hands with each leader as they disembarked off the plane. There are 10 states in the CIS and each hand shake was accompanied by the music. The most important leader is, of course, Russia’s head of state. This time Medvedev attended. Bakaev shook Medvedev’s hand with exuberance while Medvedev smiled meekly and looked a little bored and a little uncomfortable.

The day of the summit, I met a couple of soldiers in taxis. The first was the taxi driver that took me to the bus/share-taxi station headed to Naryn. He was my age and had just quit the army last year. He had been in the army for a few years and even completed the military academy. He would have stayed with the army but the pay, even for low-ranking officers, was meager at the equivalent of $US 100/month. He now earns $US 1,000/month driving a taxi. He works most everyday but on his own schedule and can take the days off that he wants. “I go where I want, when I want and take order from no one.”

The next soldier I met accompanied me to Naryn in the share taxi. He was a special forces captain. He had been with the army for almost a decade. He’s trained with Turks and had some contact with the Americans and Russians stationed at their bases in Kyrgyzstan. He even went to Iraq with some anti-Kurd Turkish operation in 2003. Many of his comrades have been trained at some special forces officer school of the US army, apparently in Texas. His English was quite good and he was clearly a straight-shooting clear thinker. We spoke about the US election, language policies in Kyrgyzstan (moving away from Russian in official settings), and the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. He was more sympathetic and supportive of US “peacekeeping” (to use his term) in Afghanistan than most people that bring up the subject. He was not much of a fan of the US Iraq War, but he thought that it was not just a oil grab. Kyrgyzstan has received a lot of support for its special forces since the Islamic Movement of Uzbekistan’s incursion into the South of the country in 2001-2. There have been no incidents since that time, but anti-terrorist/insurgent operations remain the focus of their training.

Outside the Belii Dom, one of the bored privates looked around with disinterest. His eyes came to rest on a poster with tear away tabs. WORK! It read. He glanced around to see who was watching, took a couple steps to his left and tore away a tab which he placed in his pocket