“Кыргызстан жакты бы?”
Do you like Kyrgyzstan?
Whether I’m
talking to the person standing next to me in the overcrowded Marshrutka (a minivan jury-rigged for
mass transit), the 16 year-old cutting my hair (the hair cutting school only
charges 50 cents for a haircut), my host mom’s second cousin visiting from
Naryn (some part of the family is visiting at least two nights a week), the
national television station НТС
(that’s right, I’m famous), or a friend back in America (hey friends!) I always
hear this question.
Do you like Kyrgyzstan?
I’ve developed a
succinct response for my Kyrgyz inquisitors, “Yes, I like Kyrgyzstan, I like
the beautiful mountains and the clean air.” This usually gains me a pat on the
back and ear-to-ear grins from those around me. The mountains part is true,
standing at 16,000 ft (just a hair over 3 miles) the mountains in view from my
village are striking. The clean air bit is just because I know Kyrgyz people
are proud of their air. I have no idea if the air is actually clean; I have my
doubts since they all burn their trash.
When asked by
friends and family back in the US my response mostly reflects the ebb and flow
of my emotions. Some days are great: stories of a successful business plan
training at work or a day of picking apples with my host brothers get passed
along. Other days are not so great and instead horror stories of
gastrointestinal calamities or language frustrations slip off my tongue. Life
in Kyrgyzstan, like life everywhere else, has its good times and bad.
I’ve been here
for six months now, so I ought to give a bit of an answer. First here is a
story to give you an example. Know while reading this that I have saved it
specifically for you, my reader.
During the
summer of 2010 violent ethnic clashes occurred in southern Kyrgyzstan between
the Kyrgyz and Uzbeks resulting in the death of over 200 people and the further
solidification of the divide between these two groups. Though Kyrgyzstan is a
tiny country relative to the US (it has 1/56 the population), it hosts over 80
different ethnic groups, the two largest being Kyrgyz and Uzbek. Tensions
between Kyrgyz and Uzbeks date back centuries but historical reasons regarding
land use (the Kyrgyz were nomadic people while the Uzbeks were settled people)
have been more or less nullified since the USSR. Yet tensions remain, fueled
mostly by weak history education and persistent prejudice. But there is hope,
some, like the person I am about to mention, choose to look past the tension
and pursue a peaceful Kyrgyzstan.
Sevara is ethnically
Uzbek. Though she grew up in Kyrgyzstan her first language was Uzbek (she now
speaks Uzbek, Russian, Kyrgyz, Turkish, and English fluently and is learning
Spanish). In the summer of 2010 Sevara was studying in the city of Osh, the
heart of the violence. Miles away from her family in Batken, Sevara took refuge
in the home of a friendly classmate. Though her classmate’s family offered
safety, they could not change the fact that Sevara’s skin is much fairer than
theirs, so rather than letting the color of her skin betray her, Sevara took on
a Turkish name and relied on her language skills to conceal her identity while
she waited out the violence. Sevara was safe, but tragically an Uzbek boy at
her school was killed and many more injured during the clash.
Today Sevara is
studying dentistry at one of Kyrgyzstan’s top medical schools. Last year
Sevara, thanks to her intelligence and strong drive, was able to study in
Minnesota for a year. Despite having visited the different world that is
America, and experienced first hand the blemishes of Kyrgyzstan’s recent
history, Sevara desires to live and work in Kyrgyzstan. Sevara represents a
contingent of hope here, a people who believe they can control the destiny of
their world and cultivate a place of peace and respect.
So for my reader
I respond with this: I do like Kyrgyzstan’s mountains, they’re like nothing
I’ve ever seen. But I don’t like the history of violence these mountains have
watched. I like the clean air, when it’s clean, but I don’t like the litter and
burning of trash. I wish the education system were better, but I love the
passion I see in some student’s eyes. Seeing the mistreatment of women and
hearing about non-consensual bride kidnapping breaks my heart. But hearing the
attitude of people like Sevara gives me hope. Making friends with the change
agents of a country transforming is an honor and I look forward to where it
goes.
