Crossing the River

I’m leaving for Afghanistan this afternoon. 

I’ll be crossing the river, driving four hours into one of the valleys and then hiking 4km to a village.   I’m going with our team (Engineer, GIS specialist, Social Mobilizer and Driver).  They are conducting a training for communities on how to prepare  against natural disasters.  And I am monitoring it.  

Roxy was supposed to come with me but she didn’t get her visa in time.  I’ve gotten used to traveling with her pretty much everywhere so this will be new for me.   Luckily, the social mobilizer speaks a bit of English, so I’ll be able to communicate somewhat with my colleagues. 

I’m excited.  And a little nervous. 

But really looking forward to spending a couple of days living in an Afghan village.  It’s an amazing opportunity.  

I plan to use my broken (read: non-existent) Tajik and a lot of gesturing to communicate with people.  I have no idea what the dynamic will be like.   

That whole religion, gender, enemy combatant thing. 

Wish me luck. 

 

Afghan VISA

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An ancient history – Part 2

The Civil War

In 1992, the civil war broke out.  The causes of this war were complex and relate to some extent to the ethnic and regional tensions that emerged from the formation of the new Soviet Republic in 1924 (once again artificial lines on a map – created by outside forces – lead to conflict!) and to premature attempts to liberalize the Tajik political system.  

At the end of the Soviet period, power in Tajikistan was tightly guarded by representatives of the Leninabad district in the North.  Other regions of Tajikistan were demanding:  equal participation in the political process; and the communist party to abandon its monopoly on political power, in favor of a multiparty system.

The refusal to share power coupled with a lack of political maturity on the part of the opposition- led to civil war.

The war was devastating.  

It compounded the economic disruption caused by the break-up of the Soviet system and the people of GBAO  (the Pamirs) and Karategin/Rasht found themselves virtually isolated from the outside world.   People were starving.   The mountainous terrain that protected them from the majority of the violence also contributed to their inability to access food. 

Many had lost family members during the war and the country was crippled economically.  Jobs were almost impossible to find. Public services, like schools and hospitals were in a shocking state and business nearly non-existent.  The feeling of unease was perverse –with gunmen openly walking the streets, murder, robbery and kidnapping rampant.  Gas , electricity and water were often cut and the winters long, dark and cold.

20,000 people died (of a population of 5 million) and around one in ten had fled their homes. 

The organization that I work for is well respected in this region not only for the projects that they currently fund but for the humanitarian assistance they provided during the war.     The crisis was largely ignored by the rest of the international community: few had heard of Tajikistan and many considered it Russia’s problem.   

Help was not on its way.

Peace

In 1997, a peace agreement was reached.  And to date, the peace process had been very successful. A result of the war has been a push for promoting cultural pluralism.  

The economic situation in Tajikistan remains the most precarious of all of the Republics, however, the high level of literacy and the secular education achieved under the Soviet Union coupled with the political maturity of the parties since the 1997 peace agreement, offers hope that Tajikistan will prove more stable than its neighbors.   

 
The People of the Pamirs

The Pamirs has been mostly protected from outside influence and occupation due to its isolated geophraphic location.   This mountainous area, a large part of which is located in Gorno-Badakhshan in Tajikistan, is one of the most inaccessible in the world.  

Local tradition holds that the Pamirian people descended from the leaders of Alexander the Great’s invading army, who reached the area in fourth century B.C. 

This may in part be true but their ethnicity can also be traced to the tribes that lived in Eastern Iran.  Today, the Pamiris live in southern Central Asia, primarily in southeastern Tajikistan and northeastern Afghanistan.

The Pamiris are not a homogeneous group.  They are composed of people who speak the Pamiri languages, (some are quite similar, others not easily understood among the different groups) the indigenous languages of Afghanistan’s Badakhshan region and in the Gorno-Badakhshan autonomous province in Tajikistan, and adhere to the Ismaili sect of Shia Islam (followers of the Aga Khan).  Aside from the Kyrgyz-speaking people in Murgab (more on this later) most people that live in the GBAO are Ismaili.

The Pamiris share close linguistic, cultural and religious ties with the people in Badakhshan Province in Afghanistan, the Sarikoli speakers in Taxkorgan Tajik Autonomous County in Xinjiang Province in China, the Wakhi speakers in Afghanistan and the Wakhi speakers in Upper Hunza Gojal region of Northern mountainous areas of Pakistan.

During the Tajikistan Civil War from 1992–1997 the Pamiris were targeted for massacres, especially those living in the capital Dushanbe and Qurghonteppa Oblast.

In the early 1990s there was a movement amongst Pamiris to separate Gorno-Badakhshan from Tajikistan. This did not happen but the Pamirs remain an autonomous region of Tajikistan (you need a visa to get in).

 

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The two-pail system

Navigating the office environment is fairly easy at home.  Understanding and respecting the cultural taboos and norms comes naturally.   

Here, however, I likely do something to offend someone in the office on a daily basis. People are generally just too polite to say anything.

 My office has two cleaning ladies – one on the main floor and one on the second floor.   They don’t speak English but we say hello and even joke around – as well as you can with sign language and expressive facial expressions. 

Yesterday, I noticed that  the cleaning lady on my floor was giving me the cold shoulder. 

I tend to interact with her a fair bit since there is usually no water in the office and I drink mad amounts of coffee and usually need to use the bathroom at least twice a day.   No water = no toilets.    I’ll do the – I really gotta go dance – and she’ll magically appear with a huge bucket of water.  

 Those of you who’ve traveled a lot or lived in the developing world (where water shortrages are common-place) know that dumping a large quantity of water into the bowl from a high enough distance makes the toilet flush.

Anyway,  yesterday she barely acknowledged me.  And she’s usually quite friendly. 

So it got me thinking  – what did I do now ?  

Roxy – my colleague – happened to mention to me the other day that Tajiks seperate their garbage.    Apparently, a lot of people around here own animals – cows, goats etc., – which  I was actually pretty surprised to learn  considering that we live in a town and not a village.   I’ve lived here for two months and never so much as heard a mooh.   

Where would you even keep a cow?  We live in houses and apartments…  

But last week, I was walking down Lenin Street – on my way to the park- minding my own business and a brown cow strolled right past me.  No  joke.   Down the middle of the street – and straight into oncoming traffic - without a care in the world. 

Anyway, the point of the two garbage system is to seperate the food for animals from regular waste.  But no one tells you these things – you’re just supposed to know them.   Persia and I have been dumping all of our garbage together for the past two months- we leave it outside and the landlady’s kids take it to the dump.    A couple nights ago we discovered that the kids had been secretly seperating our garbage!  Roxy confirmed that in fact it’s a great insult to waste food here – especially when animals could eat it.  

Putting all of this together, my cleaning lady’s cold shoulder finally made sense. Last week, I had thrown some mouldy raising and nuts in the garbage – along with regular paper.  I wasn’t even thinking – just tossed it in the pail. 

She was quite offended.  But I’ve since apologized and we are back on good terms.

And Persia and I, now have a two garbage pail sytem (sorry still no recycling -    non-existent here).

I can only imagine what I’ll do  to offend tomorrow.

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A taste of Russian opulence

We spent our first night in Dushanbe in a hotel room that could have been Anna Karenina’s bed chamber.  20 foot ceilings, gold wall paper, red embroidered drapes, crystal chandeliers and rich dark wood furniture.  It was a fitting introduction to this country’s complex relationship with the former Soviet Union.   And, a great place to end up after a long a flight.   The hotel was out of our price range so after the first night we decided to rent a flat in the centre of town for the rest of the week.   It’s in a great location right in the centre of the action.

Dushanbe is a lovely city. Russian-colonial buildings line the streets and the architecture is quite beautiful.  Many buildings have been converted into spaces for stores (clothing, electronics etc.) filled with products from China (its neighbour to the east).  There are restaurants, cafes and a lot of outdoor spaces to cool down, socialize, have a drink and eat beef kebabs.

 There is a huge park near the apartment and at night it fills with families taking a break from the heat and enjoying the colourful water fountains.  Tajiks love their kids.    This is a culture that allows children to be children. Kids run around and do mischief but they are rarely chastised for being themselves.  I’ve noticed that the men here spend a great deal of time with their children.

 People are very gracious about having their pictures taken.  I think it’s because they don’t get a lot of tourists here.  I have found myself the subject of quite a few photos as well!    The people here are really friendly and  often approach me for conversation.   But it’s difficult communicating because most people don’t speak English.

A lot of people ask me where I’m from.  They usually assume I’m American but when I explain I’m Canadian they nod in acknowledgement.  I’ve given up on trying to explain where Jamaica is -  I’ve even tried throwing out Bob Marley but that usually gets me blank stares in reply.

The teenagers here are great.   We spent a day at a camp about an hour outside of Dushanbe.  It was 36C and by the time we got there I was sure  I was going to faint.  I don’t know how people function in this heat.   I lived in Uganda for 10 months so you’d think I’d be used to it…

The “camp” was housed in a former Russian hotel.   It’s built on the side of a river with mountains on every side.

 The kids were celebrating their final day at camp.  They had prepared a show and we were the guests of honour.  And what a show!  This was my first experience with Tajik (Pamiri Ismaili to be exact) cultural dance, poetry and song.   The traditional clothing is very colourful and the girls weave red ribbon through their hair.

Tajikistan is a fairly liberal country and even knowing this I was surprised to see how bold the boys were in asking the girls to dance.   It’s a striking difference from the other Muslim countries that I am familiar with.   The men here are quite friendly but respectful.  They pay women a lot of compliments.   I don’t blame them, the women here are breathtakingly beautiful!  I have never seen such beautiful shades of hair colour, from the deepest black to the lightest copper (and even some blondes and red heads!).   It doesn’t surprise me that many foreign men end up getting married here.

 To celebrate their final week at camp, a local band came to play.  They played modern Tajik music and the kids loved it.   They forced us to dance (they are amazing dancers!) and taught us some of their moves in exchange for some of our “American dance moves.”  I did my best to represent.  At one point, I found myself in a dance-off, surrounded by a group of 20 kids clapping.  It was a really great time.

Allison K.

Taken by Allison K.

The language barrier here is a real challenge.  I like being able to socialize with people but since I don’t speak Russian or Tajik (which is a form of Farsi) I have to rely on my Russian phrasebook.   I have spoken a bit of French though.  There are some French soldiers here and the occasional Tajik who has studied French.

 So far, I’ve spoken to several shop owners, Russian military, students and a nice older gentleman on the bus.   I have a new appreciation for Russian – it’s a tough language to read but it’s fairly easy to pronounce.   Tajik eludes me.  I will begin my Tajik language lessons next week and am excited to speak to people in their first language.  But, I won’t get much practice in Khorog, it’s a region where people speak another language, Shugni.  This is an oral language spoken by Pamiri people.  I wanted to stick to Tajik because it’s close to Dari (the language spoken in Afghanistan) and Farsi (Iran).  So I will likely get the chance to use it again.

Because of the heat, I’ve been spending quite a few hot afternoons at a coffee house across from our apartment.   I’m leaving for Khorog on Thursday where these small luxuries (espresso) will be unavailable, so I don’t feel too guilty about having a cappuccino (and air conditioning) here and there.

In the mornings and the late afternoons, I explore.  I love photography and haven’t been disappointed by the sights.    So far, I’m having a great time!

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36 hours, 3 continents and a lot of bad airplane food….

The flights from Toronto-> Amsterdam -> Istanbul went well. I had planned to use the eight hour layover in Istanbul as an opportunity to check out the city. Turkey is a country that I have always dreamed of visiting. Unfortunately, that plan was quickly halted by a miserable visa officer with a chip on her shoulder for Canadians. After waiting patiently in line, I’d planned to ask for a short-term visa to leave the airport. I barely got the words out before I was being verbally assaulted by this woman for daring to ask if there was anything other than a six-month $60 USD visa available. Americans and Europeans pay $20 USD for the same visa! She wasn’t interested in my question and told me to get out of line. I was flabbergasted but too exhausted to put up a fight. I’ve heard conflicting reasons for the discrepency in visa costs.  An American I met on the plane said that Canadians pay more because we recognize  the Armenian genocide.   I read online that we pay more because  it’s expensive for Turks to get Canadian visas.   Whatever the reason, I wasn’t prepared to pay $60 US for an eight hour excursion. Instead, I took a much needed nap in the airport lounge.

After my nap, I bumped into a human rights lawyer (who could have been a fashion model) from Copenhagen on his way to Dushanbe for a conference on fair judicial trials and pre-trial rights of the accused. I also met three young chaps from the UK on their way to Dushanbe to start a bike trip that would take them across Tajikistan. A challenging adventure considering that Tajikistan is 93% mountainous!

The flight from Istanbul to Dushanbe was fairly bumpy (luckily, Turkish Air has an open bar policy). The minute we boarded the plan a hundred pair of eyes were on us. And I have to admit, I was staring back. What an interesting group of people. The ethnic diversity of the people on the flight was incredible. I imagine we also looked quite the spectacle – exhausted, loaded down with cameras and backpacks and books – we also didn’t smell that great. I sat beside a really interesting gentleman from Bulgaria. He speaks five languages! Kazak, Bulgarian, Russian, Turkish and English. I admit I don’t have a strong grasp of Bulgarian history and was surprised to learn that his family has Turkish ancestry. Many Bulgarians do. He was born in Bulgaria, moved to Russia then Germany and now lives in Almaty, Kazakhstan and runs a small machinery company. He told me of his plans to live in Ethiopia one day and his love of music (he saw The Wailers perform in Germany). He taught me the Russian words for beer =piva and wine = vino – both of which we sampled on the way to Dushanbe. I don’t know much about Bulgarians but they seem to enjoy their liquor almost as much as the Russians. Ah the Russians –more on them to come!

We finally arrived in Dushanbe at 4 am on the 9th. We’d left at 6pm on the 7th. As soon as I walked off the plane I felt peaceful. The air was clean and warm but not humid. There was a lightness to it and I felt myself drifting into the pace of life that often characterizes developing countries. The driving conditions quickly brought me out of that reverie and reminded me of the other thing that often characterizes developing countries – creative driving. Apparently in Tajikistan green means Go Fast, amber means Go and red means Go Slow. I’m still trying to determine if these rules change depending on the time of day or the number of police around. Needless to say, at 5 am there were very few people out and about.   But compared to Uganda this is a very orderly place.   The buses  have designated bus stops (but you can still flag them down) and there are pedestrian cross-walks!

My first impressions driving into the city from the airport: Clean, wide and well-paved streets lined with tall, beautiful trees. Fresh, fresh air. And Soviet style buildings – some are quite opulent.

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Pre-depature Jitters

I leave tomorrow.  I feel sick to my stomach.   Today is the first time I’ve had a chance to actually worry about leaving. OK, that’s not entirely true…  It’s been a roller-coaster of anxiety.  But today I feel especially consumed with worry. Probably because this is the first time I’ve had the chance to actually think.   I’ve spent the past week running around trying to prepare for departure.   I’ll make my third and final trip to MEC today.  Scan all my important docs. Finally try to figure out how to use wordpress features aside from Post and Publish.    Pack.   Oh God, pack.

At this point whatever I don’t have, I don’t need and I’ll survive without or curse myself for forgetting.   I may not have clue as to what awaits me but I do have $50 long underwear that pulls the sweat away from my body and pair of kick-ass hiking boots.

Wow. I’m going to Tajikistan.

Tajikistan

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