Tuesday, February 19, 2013

آیا تو نمی بینی که بدن خود را دارند می سوزند متروک و پر از حسرت

Рӯзи Артиши миллӣ муборак! Happy National Army Day!

Ok, so I’m a few days early, but from the TV messages (often featuring soldiers and equipment from countries as non-Tajik as Russia, Kazakhstan, and Abkhazia) on state-run TBC, to Rudaki Ave being blocked yesterday so hundreds of soldiers could pile in front of the massive Ismail Somoni statue in practice for Saturday, you know what’s coming. An outpouring of support for the country’s armed forces, a full two decades after their founding. And what a twenty years it’s been…

Being American, I am by no means qualified to make quips about a country “ worshipping” its army. Tajikistan has been through some pretty awful things since independence, topping the list is the civil war that firmly destroyed what little infrastructure it originally had, and is probably the biggest cause of the country’s many snafus. With 2014, and the disaster that is likely to be post-ISAF Afghanistan on the horizon, the army is going to be getting a lot more focus, both at home and abroad.

But…

The army’s not innocent. Nothing in Tajikistan really is (or, I’d argue, could be); but this force, the one that keeps such baddies as Islamic terrorism out of the country, also lets in quite a bit of drugs. Corruption’s bad, and when it’s not things being done through omission (or actively so), the army was the force that mercilessly came down on the city of Khorugh in late July, killing somewhere between 70 and over 200 people. Arguments could made the latter was a case of “national security”, but there’s no argument that the helicopters and snipers shooting at civilians was excessive.

I've said before that Tajikistan has the tools and the innate abilities to improve itself. I’m hesitant of saying that the army should be a vehicle for that, just because the army as such a force can either be good (South Korea, I say tentatively) or really, really, really bad (pretty much every other country that did that). The point I want to make is that, while the Tajik government throws what I can only assume are hundreds of thousands of somonis into pomp and circumstance, maybe they could adjust that towards just benefitting the soldiers and their families? Or working towards something, anything, that doesn't look like glorified cock-waving…these people deserve better.

Hopefully I’ll do something exciting soon so I stop writing about conceptual nonsense. But with the weather looking horrible every else but the capital…don’t count on it.

As always: Ташаккуру Худо ҳафез.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

چهل روزه بوده است و من چهل راه سعی کرده ام

I’ll start this off by saying, in a way that sounds horribly conceited in my head but I do swear isn't  Finding yourself a minority in an unfamiliar place makes life both interesting, and irritatingly difficult. Now let me try to explain that statement through a series of semi-humorous anecdotes, to try to draw away any potentially hostile feelings that the initial statement may have brought forwards.

For some basic demographic information, Tajikistan is a country that is 90% some kind of Muslim (Sunni majority, only country in the world with an Ismaili majority region if that kind of thing interests you). Which leaves 10% as an odd mix of Christian (mostly Russian Orthodox), Jewish, Zoroastrian, Baha'i...the works. As you may, but most likely are not, surprised to learn, I am not Muslim. Surprise, I know, but as you can imagine, when you have a religious holiday coming up and 90% of the country has absolutely no idea what you’re talking about, you can have a number of funny stories.

So let’s start with finding a church. Dushanbe, being the capital, DOES have several churches. Good, right? Well, when the holiday you’re ‘celebrating’ (not sure Ash Wednesday gets ‘celebrated’) isn't celebrated by all of the various denominations that have churches here, it’s…a bit taxing to explain. No, I can’t go the Russian church, they start next week. It was that. For about a week, until we found the Church, somehow at the address where I had previously found an abandoned building.

Also, fun fact, drawing comparisons between schisms in Christianity and Islam doesn't easily explain the differences. Go figure.

But alright, proper church found! That’s a good start. Now, onto explaining the concept of Lent to the host family or, more appropriately, trying to explain the concept of the Lenten fasting to the family. This I’ll admit was for more amusing. Namely, Baba’s proud statement that if “you don’t fast every day, it’s not fasting.” Or Bibi’s confused “You can choose what you give up? Why would you choose to fast?” Honestly, it’s led to a lot of amusing conversations and misunderstandings.

I guess this post isn't just about the time of year, or trying to celebrate, but about one of the odder parts of “cross-cultural exchange”. Normally, you think you’re fine sharing everything, about yourself and your culture; and at the same time you are expected (and will typically enjoy) to hear about your host culture. But speaking for myself, religion has always been something I've seen as personal, not something that someone should be dissuaded from talking about, but that my beliefs are my own, and I don’t share them because, frankly, they’re between me and whatever higher power I choose to believe in.

But Tajikistan has changed that. I've had conversation about things from personal beliefs regarding fate (or “the will of God”) to Church hierarchy with everyone from my host family to my professors to my tutor to random people I've chatted with in the park. Literally, dozens of times. And still, after all of that, I’m not comfortable with the conversations.

But as I don’t see a stop to the questions, I’ll do my best to teach and explain. As I’ve always done, I suppose.

As always: Ташаккуру Худо ҳафез.