Nobody Has Come

"Nobody comes here, nobody cares about us!"

These were the words of the Uzbeks in this particular mahalla we visited. On this day, a group of six of us went out to this area. We divided into pairs and went off in different directions. I, Jeff, went out with a Russian speaker and as we were discussing where we might go, we were dragged off by some Uzbek ladies to their hovli.

We were ushered into the hovli and sat on their supa (traditional raised platform on which people sit, eat and sleep). This household was substantially burned out except for the rooms at the back of the courtyard where this supa was. As I sat there, trying to sit cross-legged without looking awkward, I looked around the hovli and noted the usual, white tent labeled with the big, blue UNHCR letters to my left, the ever-present, burned-out rooms along the street straight ahead and to my right, and about 15 Uzbeks, male and female, young and old in front of me. They were all trying to talk at once. Since my partner was a Russian speaker, when they talked with her, it was in Russian, some of which I understood. When I asked about something in Uzbek, the group switched into Uzbek which she couldn't understand. Perhaps to accommodate both of us, or more likely because that is just how life in Central Asia is, they talked in both languages without realizing it and neither of us could understand well.

But such is the color and fabric of this region.

"Are the OCSE police coming and when?" was the first question they asked. They were asking about the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe's (OSCE) proposed deployment of some 50 international police advisers to southern Kyrgyzstan. This is a huge concern of the Uzbeks because the

all-Kyrgyz police force in Osh are taking Uzbek men, usually young, and beating and torturing them unless or until the family comes up with their demanded ransom. The Uzbeks are desperately hoping that this independent OCSE force will stop these police abductions. Unfortunately, we don't
know the answer to whether the OCSE advisors will come (the city leadership in Osh and many Kyrgyz oppose their coming) and try to move the conversation away from political discussions.

Food on a table

As quickly as the questions and conversation fly, just as quickly the tablecloth in the middle of the supa is loaded up with nan and choy and, as a first time for me in one of the burned-out hovlis, a large platter of rice pilov or osh is set before us (see photo). "Oling, Oling," they insist (take, take), in the typical aggressive and yet ever so genuine hospitality so characteristic of the Uzbeks. Our objections relating to having just eaten before coming fall on deaf ears and so we take token amounts of the food offered. This current situation is so hard for the Uzbeks because they are so welcoming of guests and so badly want to serve us osh but most places have nothing much to offer except nan and choy and watermelon which we are offered everywhere we go. Most of these people have virtually nothing but they can't think of not giving something. When we leave, they always say, "next time you come, we'll have osh together."

After talking an hour or so (well, mostly listening), we move on to the next places. Again, we don't have much choice in the matter as we are ushered in to the next burned-out hovli. Soon we get separated and I am almost literally dragged from house to house along this street. They keep saying: "nobody comes here, nobody cares about us" and they want so badly to show me their burned-out hovli. So instead of doing the usual sitting down and talking to people which we prefer, I am taken down this narrow street and shown one-by-one each of the burned out places on each side of the street.

I walk with a certain numbness and at the same time I'm crying and yet unable to cry anymore. Nothing is new and nothing shocks me anymore. Three weeks ago when I first started this, I was so shocked and had to hold back excessive tears and I was wanting to take photos of everything. Today, they were wanting me to take photos to show the world since nobody seems to care. I didn't want to take any more photos, I didn't want to see anymore burned-out hovlis, I didn't want to hear anymore crying people say: "we have nothing, everything is gone." However, that is what we are here for and so that is what I did. Sometimes it is so hard to try to give them a glimmer of hope when I have my own struggles with a sense of hopelessness for them. As I was thinking such thoughts, a little 5-year old Uzbek girl smiled up at me with the most innocent, beautiful smile that seemed to make all the rubble around her disappear and I told her mom and grandmother and older sister standing there that there is always hope in the midst of this despair in that little girl's smile. I think we connected there in some way.

Capttap ('sarts') is a derogatory term Kyrgyz use for Uzbeks

In addition to hope, we try to give them dignity. They have been treated so inhumanely and continue to receive such bad treatment. As I walk down this narrow street and see the walls spray painted with sart (looks like 'capttap' when written in Cyrillic letters) and "death to Uzbeks" and other more vulgar words or pictures, I can get a little sense of their loss of dignity. I tell them that I used to live in Uzbekistan and love the
Uzbek people and I heard about their situation and so as a foreigner, I wanted to come and show them the respect they deserve and that has been taken from them. I tell them that the world knows of their situation and this means so much to them because of the lies shown on Kyrgyz television about what has happened. So I walk in the ubiquitous grit of ash, broken glass, broken roofing tile and rubble. Everywhere there is grit, always grit, underfoot and I am so tired of it. I take ever more pictures of charred walls and broken everything so that I can show the world. And as you are reading this, I am indeed telling the world about their situation. Please remember these people!

I try to tell them that I care and that is why I came…

P.S.:If you care about these people, and would like to help them, please look at our page called "How YOU can help". You will find several petitions there, one of which is supporting the OSCE police force. Signing these petitions will only take a few moments, but will mean so much to us and these Uzbeks we have met. Thank you!