Tuesday, July 27, 2010

The film-set -- UNBELIEVABLE

The following account was written by our co-worker, but we were all together and heard the same account, and since he’s written it so well, we copy it with his permission.


The film-set: Nargiza, 49 year old woman

“The marauders came on the first day (the 11th of June) to our street and broke all the street-facing windows of our home. We managed to escape further into the neighbourhood and from there to our relatives in the village. We were then for a week and when we came back we found that the whole front building of our courtyard was destroyed. At that time we didn’t realize how lucky we were that our back-house was still intact and that they hadn’t stolen or destroyed our car.

I went inside the back house and was so shocked. Most things were stolen. We were working in South Korea for three years and all the good-quality clothes and electronics were gone. What they didn’t take they vandalized. They broke jars of fresh jam and pickled salad and smeared them all over our beds and tushaks, and they – I’m ashamed to even say this – they did their business all over our guest-room carpet. We’ve tried to clean up the back house, and now we just sit here, terrified to go out, staring at the remains of our beautiful vine and the rose bushes and our destroyed front house. Our sons are in Russia, so they’ve been spared all this and the SNB (security forces) kidnappings of Uzbek men. My husband doesn’t work anymore. Although they didn’t steal his taxi, he’s still too afraid to go out as the Kyrgyz will beat him.

So, we just sit here and sometimes watch TV on our old Soviet TV which even these marauders didn’t want. Watching the local news just makes us more depressed though. They show the same two or three burnt Kyrgyz houses all the time and we keep waiting for them to show just one of the thousand Uzbek homes destroyed or interview just one Uzbek, but they don’t. It’s as if we don’t exist anymore.


The exterior of  Nargiza’s home



Then one day, my husband called me to come and watch the TV. They were showing our house on TV! The front windows are blocked with bricks now, so we must have missed them when they came. Imagine our surprise when we saw a weeping Kyrgyz woman – some actor – telling the camera that this was her house and that 40 Uzbeks came and burnt it down. We were so shocked and outraged, but who could we tell? We’re Uzbeks and we’re no-one, we’re nothing. We just keep our mouths shut. I go out on the street and Kyrgyz women shout out, “Why are you still alive, Sart? Haven’t you left yet? You will soon. We’ll get rid of all the Sarts.”

My grandchildren’s clothes were all looted, so I went to Kara Su bazaar, which is still open. I wanted to buy a shirt and the Kyrgyz girl told me a price three times more expensive than normal. I pointed this out to her.

“What’s your problem, Sart? Take it or leave it. We know you’re all rich.”

I couldn’t believe this young girl speaking so disrespectfully. I told her that I wasn’t rich and that my house had been looted and burnt.

“So why are you still here in our country, Sart? You shouldn’t be shopping, you should be packing!”

But this is my country too. They say that we came here after them, but we didn’t. In the 1970s there were almost no Kyrgyz in Osh, it was all Uzbeks, Tartars, Germans and Russians. I was born here and I’m not leaving. But what future do we have? They say we’re nothing.”

Some smoke -- and some background

One of the 1000+ destroyed Uzbek homes
In the pre-dawn morning darkness, several competing calls to prayer reverberate amidst dogs barking; disturbed in their early morning slumber, as well. And then, a minute later we notice --- the faint smell of smoke. Smoke is not an unusual smell in Central Asia, because household paper waste and leaves and yard waste are still burned in people’s courtyards, but at 5 am, it is an unusual smell. Last night we had word that once again, there was burning at the Osh Bazaar and that smoke had been noted in another region as well. We wonder if the fire has spread. Behind our hovli walls, we can see nothing. We know that where Uzbek citizens are affected, the all-Kyrgyz operated city services, including fire fighters, will not respond. Fortunately, (if that is the correct adverb) the mainly mud-brick construction of homes is a pretty good fire deterrent. The Kyrgyz marauders of June 11 – 14, had to work hard to bring about the kind of destruction they did; reportedly there were incendiary devices used, along with “molotov cocktails” glass bottles of gasoline that ignite when tossed into yards and so forth. It should be noted that all homes are surrounded by high (approximately 2 ½ meter/8 ft.) walls. While this meant it was more difficult for the Kyrgyz to attack, it was also more difficult for Uzbeks to escape. One grandmother and her four grandchildren told of their escape over their roof. When asked, ‘How did you get out?’ she replied, ‘We don’t know how we got out – you see, it’s impossible - but yet, we somehow did it. We were desperate.’
Interestingly, roofs are constructed of panels of cement-asbestos ‘shifer,’ a natural fire retardant. So, the attackers would have to break through the roofing material, in some cases, to allow the fire to enter a house. The grandmother we mentioned earlier, didn’t have her entire house burned, but the unburned part has a ruined roof, so in the next rain, her home will be soaked and she has no money at all to repair her roof.

We want to document to you, our friends, as well as those who chance onto our blogsite, the shocking realities of what we’re finding in Osh, the southern capital of the republic of Kyrgyzstan. There is much destruction beyond this city as well; in villages, and other cities, but the heart of the thrust was here, and here it started. The date of June 11, 2010, will never be forgotten. Nor, do we want you to forget it. This is the date when the attempted cleansing of Uzbeks from southern Uzbekistan and the master-minded plan behind it was begun.
Uzbeks have lived in this region for centuries. They have been the settled people of the region; farmers, traders, businessmen. The Kyrgyz are traditionally a nomadic herding people. When they first started settling down in this region, the Uzbeks say they were the ones that taught them how to farm, trade and so on. That makes the betrayal even harder. Those they allowed to settle among them have now become their enemies.
A home labeled “Kyrgyz” which was spared from burning.








To be fair, one must know that the Uzbeks have prospered in Osh. While not up to western standards, many of the destroyed homes we’ve seen are quite large and reportedly were nicely furnished. Many were traders or business men and women. Before a son marries, new rooms are often built to house the son and his bride and future children, and it is the parent’s job to furnish it as well. Summer is the time of weddings, particularly before the start of Ramazan (the Islamic month of fasting). Many have told us with tears, of the years of preparation they’ve made to prepare for a son’s wedding; saving money and carefully buying all the things needed for the bride’s dowry. All of it was destroyed in a flash, either looted or burned. Hopes and dreams for marriage, children and grandchildren --- gone. Marriage, in Uzbek culture, is a nearly-sacred rite of passage.
What led to the attacks on June 11 through June 14? Various theories abound, and we aren’t experts here. The man we stay with thinks it might have been related to the drug trade in the area and the mafia associated with that. An article we read yesterday, suggests it was gang turf warfare. The affected Uzbeks themselves adamantly believe it was a planned attack, stemming from the mayor’s office itself and with the backing of the Kyrgyz police and military forces.

The view from inside a burned hovli. In the distance is a building from where the snipers shot at those trying to escape their burning homes.
We’ve heard reports that it started from a fight in a casino. Possibly. But we’ve talked to Uzbeks who said they had Kyrgyz military helicopters circling overhead before the shooting, looting and burning started. They saw these same helicopters drop ammunition and supplies onto the roof of a hospital across the street from their home, where snipers were stationed and shot those who tried to flee with deadly accuracy; hardly the handiwork of a ‘fight spilled out from a casino.’ Yesterday, we picked up some of those sniper bullets. Tragically, all the Uzbeks had to fight back with was sticks, stones, hoes and possibly a few antiquated hunting weapons.

And even more tragically, the attack hasn’t ceased. As older Uzbeks venture out of their mahallas to buy groceries or medicine, they are taunted by Kyrgyz youth, ‘What are you doing still alive? Don’t worry, when the foreigners leave, we’ll be back.’ Kyrgyz television is saturated with programs blaming the death and destruction on the Uzbeks themselves. They, themselves, destroyed their own homes, belongings and businesses. They themselves killed their husbands, sons, brothers and nephews. Hardly.

We lived in Uzbekistan for six years. Others here have lived among Uzbeks longer. Uzbeks are a peaceable people, maybe too much so; they suffer and put up with squeezing, pressure, persecution and cruelty that none of us would tolerate. Their freedoms are stolen from them regularly, and they somehow carry on with their lives, hospitable to a fault, always generous with anything they have.

The Uzbeks of Osh are a religious people. They practice their Muslim faith seriously, dress conservatively and tend to follow the tenets of Islam; prayer 5 times a day, no alcohol and pork, women’s heads covered, and mosque attendance on Fridays (the attacks started on a Friday, during noon prayer time – the time when the most men are in attendance at the mosque for the Friday prayers and sermon). The Kyrgyz are more modern and less religious. The attackers were said to be given alcohol and drugs, which would naturally reduce their inhibitions to carrying out such violence.

Friday prayers at a mosque
As stated a few paragraphs back, the television is lying about who instigated the violence. One couple we visited, whose home was destroyed, said that one day they were watching TV, and were shocked to note the shell of their own home was being shown, but instead of the truth being told, a Kyrgyz actress stood outside the hovli, wringing her hands and crying, ‘This was my home, but look what the Uzbeks have done.’ Yes, there were a few Kyrgyz homes destroyed --- the Uzbeks tried to counterattack to protect their lives and families, so they aren’t without fault, but these were few and in some cases, they were probably destroyed because the fire spread from a neighboring Uzbek home. In typical construction, roofs are connected to one another.

It can be understood that there will be attempts at cover-up on the part of the Kyrgyz. We know they still have consciences and that there are mothers, aunts, grandmothers, who are well aware of what their sons were up to those four days, who washed or buried their bloodied and blackened clothing and who are now trying to pretend they know nothing. But a national cover-up, a nation that wants to pretend their hands are clean, and that is filling the airwaves with lies is where we are at today. We are shocked, the Uzbeks are scandalized.

The violence hasn’t stopped. Uzbeks are scared to leave their mahallas and in most cases, even their homes. If they must go out, they send the older people, hoping that the elders will receive more respect. Yet, they are taunted, called names and threatened; some are beaten. We heard a woman who withdrew money from a bank, who gave the money to her mother on her way home, but was later accosted, the money demanded of her, and when she couldn’t give it, she was beaten badly.

We are also hearing stories of young Uzbek men, who for the crime of ‘being on the street,’ are arrested by the police, beaten and tortured and then their families are contacted and attempts are made to extort money from them for their release. The families tell us, ‘How can we give them money, they’ve already taken everything from us.’ And they know their young men, hidden away in police basements, continue to be tortured, or may already be dead. ‘Jeff’ visited a home where their nephew was found in a hospital bed beaten, with cigarette burns on his feet, and the back of his head was smashed in. He was in a coma but died several days later. The doctor did not want to admit what had happened to him and said that he had most likely jumped out of a second story window. In recent weeks, many more have gone missing. And young girls and women are being attacked and raped. We were told by a woman working with a medical organization, that girls and women are being harassed on the streets, but when they call the police to report the harassment, they are told they need to come into the police station to make a report, and while they are there, they are raped and beaten by the police.

The bloody attack of June 11- 14 is history. But what we hope to also document in this blog are the on-going, methodical attempts to rid this city and region of all Uzbeks. We’ve heard the word ‘genocide’ more than once. Our co-worker here, who is a writer, said he did research on the terms ‘genocide’ and ‘ethnic cleansing.’ The term ‘genocide’ began to be used after World War II, to describe the German attempts to annihilate the Jewish race. ‘Ethnic cleaning’ is a newer term, invented to describe the situation in Bosnia in more recent years. Not being experts in terminology nor history, nor current events, we will shy away from the use of either, but we want you to know that the Uzbeks themselves feel they are victims of such a plan. After you have read a few of our blog entries, why don't you judge for yourselves what is going on here.

For starters, some information

We hope to tell you many stories of real people in he weeks ahead. But because Central Asia has been visited by few and lived in by even fewer, it seems important to give some history and background so you can better understand the impact of the current crisis. If this bores you, skip ahead to our first regular blog posting.
Remembering the dead; a teacher points out former students.




We will use these aliases instead of our real names: ‘Jeff,’ ‘Sue’ and ‘Elaine’ (we are husband, wife and adult daughter)

For your reference, we will also post the information below in a handy glossary on the left-hand side of this blog so that you can refer to it as you read our entries and 'translate' whatever you do not understand.


Vocabulary:

Uzbek – an ethic group comprised of people mainly from Uzbekistan, but many are also found in surrounding regions, such as here in Osh, carved up by the Soviet knife of ‘divide and conquer’ to prevent regions from becoming too powerful during the Soviet era.

Fergana Valley – Osh, the city we are reporting from, is located at the end of this valley, a fertile region settled by Uzbeks centuries ago. Stalin divided the valley into three uneven areas, thus delegating some of the Uzbeks to Uzbekistan, some to Tajikistan and some to Kyrgyzstan. This blog concerns the Uzbeks living inside the Kyrgyz border.

Mahalla – a locally-governed neighborhood region. Instead of asking, ‘What street do you live on,’ we might ask, ‘What mahalla do you live in?’

Hovli - walled courtyard. Usually the various rooms of the house, along with outhouses, baths, and so forth, are wrapped around the inside walls. Generally, extended family live together; particularly parents, their sons, wives and children.

Tushak – cotton-filled rectangular mats, used for both sitting on and sleeping on. .

Ramazan – Islamic month of fasting, this year starting around August 10th. During this month, the first meal of the day is partaken of before the first light of the sun (about 5 am) and the fast will be broken after the sun goes down, when ‘a white thread and a black thread can not be distinguished from one another,’ probably around 8:30 pm. During the course of the day no food, water, or cigarettes can be used. This will be a significant difficulty this year, for those who wait in burned out hovlis, their trees burned and with nothing to do but wait and wait for the hours to pass.

Sart - a derogatory term used for Uzbeks. During the four days of violence in June 2010, the walls of houses were labeled with ‘sart’ or ‘Kyrgyz.’ The ones labeled ‘Kyrgyz’ were spared.

Choy in a piyola
Choy – green tea, served in ‘tea bowls’ called

Piyola – small handle-less tea cups

Nan – round flats of bread, eaten at every meal, or every time people sit together.

Mehmon – a guest. Uzbeks have a saying, ‘a guest is more honored than a father.’ (and fathers/elders are very honored!)

Mehmondo’stlik – hospitality. Daily, we are humbled by the generous hospitality of people who have lost everything.