politik

in the last 2 weeks, there has been a lot of beer. and with beer, there has been a lot of politics talk. there is a war going on in the eastern part. although it is not called war. ATO or anti-terrorist operation cannot be called a war because in order for it to be called that, there has to be at least two official warring parties. there are not. ukraine is essentially fighting an internal scuffle, figuring out its own internal affair, but with weapons and with a foreign country supplying the 'enemy'. here i have to digress and explain. DNR (Donetskaya Narodnaya Respublika or Donetsk People's Republic and LNR, Luhansk....you get the idea) are fighting for their sovereignty. or independence. it is hard to tell exactly how much separation or autonomy without separation they are willing to accept. Russia is not involved, officially, and has officially has denied involvement. but...
after fighting at independence square and after the president was ousted, or rather after he fled, events happened quickly and rather confusingly, at least for me as an outsider. crimea was lost. i did not say taken over because that would mean implicating a whole foreign nation. there was a referendum and people, somehow, by like a 90% margin of vote 'chose' to leave ukraine and join russia. strange men in unmarked uniform swiftly took over military ukrainian military bases. why? why now? unclear as it was a 'democratic' vote, but this did conveniently coincide with the expiration of russia's lease on sevastopol, their black sea military base. then, DNR and LNR decided they wanted to go too. somehow, again very quickly, militants materialized. these militants claimed to be representing the people, defending people's will. somehow, the people's army suddenly had weapons, weapons big enough to blow up a plane. although wait, who is responsible for the malaysian flight remains a controversy.
the fighting continues today. ukraine calls on a mass mobilization efforts. the standing army has been on overdrive for over a year trying to contain and maybe take back the fighting separatists, which is what they are called. russia remains uninvolved. the russian news, which i have watched for 3 tajik weeks reports on the fighting daily. the reports are skewed, very skewed: the ukrainian armed forces continually, i mean, daily, violate the minsk agreement not to shoot. the evil ukrainian forces shell civilians, daily. every news reports, every station starts their segment by listing exactly how many shells, artillery hits, and agreement violations happened overnight. there are interviews with poor civilians and brave separatists. there are stories of crazy accounts of lynching and mass executions by the ukrainian army, who are presented as blood-thirsty off-their-rocker nationalists. russia remains uninvolved, despite reports of mass crossings across the border, militarization and mobilization of russian army forces along the border, captured separatist fighters who somehow end up being officers and soldiers in the russian army. volunteers, russia says, and continues to supply hoards of humanitarian aid across the unchecked border.
ukraine is doing its best. to fight the mass media hysteria put out by russia, to support its own troops, to decide what to do with the population left in DNR and LNR. the majority of people fled and ukraine is actually facing its own little internal migration crisis. it has no true enemy as russia is not involved, but somehow the separatists have weapons, artillery, and man power which is unending. the question i continue to have is why? speaking to both russian (in moscow) and ukrainians, russia does not want DNR or LNR. their claim to russian-ness, although great, does not inspire great desire to incorporate these regions into the country. ukraine does not want to let go. what would happen if it did? if these people really want to separate, maybe just let them? well, that would set a precedent, that would show weakness of the new revolutionary government. so the fighting continues. and the government? many think it is better. reforms within the system itself are happening, they are evident, people at the top are trying. but others think that nothing has changed, adn the events, all of the events, is just another well-orchestrated political move to claim power. and maybe steal money. there is something like 160 political parties registered in ukraine today. which is sort of great (and better, in some ways, than the two party system we are so used to) but also, logistically, makes it harder to get anything done. the support of EU and NATO and economic sanctions (in which the US participates) is helping to weaken Russia and its economy, but not sufficiently enough, not quickly enough to end the fighting. Is there a resolution? it is unclear, both to me and ukrainians.
life goes on despite the fighting and people, still shell-shocked are hopeful. i went to the institute street again. walked among the makeshift memorials, looking at the 'heavenly one hundred'--the name given to those who died or were gunned down in the february fighting. the oldest was 83, the youngest 17.

pedestrian observations 2.0

i take a lot of walks. i try to avoid public transportation, other than the subway, as it cannot be trusted: trams and city-buses are crowded and tend to be heated, which is a shockingly surprising discovery one makes getting on. the first day i was tricked into taking the tram, two stops, as i have forgotten how miserable it gets, until i almost did not make it the two short stops from heat exhaustion and suffocation. so never again, i walk across the city.
i visited the pedestrian artisan street. on a monday, almost empty and less crowded, it still offered its share of souvenirs, hand-crafted goods, and paintings. tuesday, i went to the center, to walk the main street of Kyiv, Khreschatik. a walk up the hill, past the old botanical garden, past the red building of the university (painted red after student protests at the end of the 19th century resulted in clashes with tsarist army and many students shot dead, hence the red color). i visited the main (and most expensive market), which was a very exciting site to see actual fruits of vegetables after the cucumbers and tomatoes of tajikistan). down the main street all the way to the main square--Ploscha Nezalezhnosti or Independence square. this is where the fighting took place in winter of 2014. the square was initially occupied after the ex-president refused to sign an EU treaty agreement. people took to the square and set up a tent city to protest the regime. it was a peaceful demonstration, people fed each other, offered coffee and celebrated new year together. things turned more violent as the police intermittently made arrests and tortured people on the street. after the students, who were also camping out there, were violently disbanded, things turned violent. people on teh square, set up tire fires on the periphery and took down cobblestone streets to protect themselves. then, on february 20th special brigade of the armed forces was ordered to disband the square. people, unarmed or poorly armed and defending themselves with cardboard, had to defend themselves against snipers and a military offensive. many died. today, the square looks almost normal, the blood was cleaned off the sidewalk. but it is littered with makeshift memorials, boards with people names and pictures. the sidewalk and flower beds serve as the reminders, with missing stones. walking up the Institute street, the street is lined with memorials: people's names and pictures, those who died defending the square. some of them were less than 18, others look like normal middle-aged men, civilians with families. there are candles lining the sidewalk, little monuments made out of scraps of metal and beat up construction hats, which people wore to somehow protect themselves. it is a sad walk up the hill.
yesterday, i took a walk through the Mariinsky park. it is my favorite park in the city. it was built around the Mariinsky palace, which was built in 186..., not to lie, but in the 1860s, in honor of Alexander II's visit. the palace was named in honor of his wife, queen Maria. the palace currently is meant for official government reception, but it has been under renovations for like the last 10 years. it is located next to the Verhovna Rada, the Parliament. the park is built around it at the end of the 19th century, the old fountains are dated 1896. the park is beautiful, old trees lining delicate alleys. the walk is quiet, peaceful. except yesterday something felt off. maybe the proximity to the parliament building and the recent and even current protests adn clashes that periodically take place outside on the street, made me feel on edge, as if anticipating violence. there were some people loitering in the park with political banners, otherwise the park was empty was usual, but with a strange air of bearing witness to violence and losing the noise of discontent in its echoes.

road trips

we spent the weekend driving around to various out of town locales. first there was the ukrainian version of the renaissance fair. built in the style of old Kievan Russia circa 11th-12th century, this is a rather expansive plot of land, built entirely out of wood. an entire castle wall (with a moat), streets, houses, all wooden structures. there are catapults and rock throwing machines, a boat, and various other things created the represent the ancient kingdom. this is, of course, accompanied with small shops, where one can buy souvenirs and crafts of the olden times, old russian food-stuffs, make one's own coin. there is a huge arena for knight fights. horses and horse-riders with knightly flags, parade around, before knights with swords go into action. despite the difficulty getting there, once again ignoring the GPS, this was fun.
Yesterday, we went to the ex-presidential residency. this is a huge compound outside of kiev. unofficially, it occupies 170 hectares of land. it includes a palace, well, house, heli-pad, golf course, park, floating restaurant, a zoo. the territory was occupied the day after the ex-president fled the country, on February 22nd 2014. the people who occupied it pretty much still run it, maintain it, guard it. they also give tours. it rained, so the walk through the park was rather wet. the park is beautiful, well maintained. the chill and serenity reminded me of wandering through Berlin in the fall. we to the president's bathhouse (sauna), which has a 3-D jacuzzi. then, after waiting for the main house tour, we finally get in. there is a large group of people on the tour, it gets a bit cluster-fuck-like at times, trying to fit through narrow doorways. the man leading the tour is the one who a year and a half ago stormed the residence. he is short, wears soft traditional slippers and is draped in the right sector flag (nationalist party). he talks about the events of occupying this place, what they found, how the defended it then and continue to defend, squatting there now. he hasnt left since the invasion; stayed because he felt like he needed to protect it from looters, and there have been many. he talks about looters coming in at night, secretly, and officials coming in during the day, more officially, all trying to loot, steal, and remove whatever valuable was initially unmoved. the man has the keys to all the rooms, he knows where the secret passageways are, he is the one who hid many valuables initially left behind by owners in their flights. he has made lists of everything that was left, he guards the space, waters the plants, and also gives out tours, while waiting for the government, or a private organization to decide what to do next. it would be a shame, he feels, to destroy this, the house continues to live--there are plants that need to be waters, furniture, and pillows that need to be dusted. and because it was never officially claimed by the government, the ownership of this place remains unclear.
the house is ridiculous. millions of Euros poured into a mansion, stupidly, for no reason other than there was money to be wasted. gold on gold, handcrafted wood on wood. we walk through marble rooms, snake-skin furniture, pearl shell floor vases. there is a dining room table that costs 100,000 Euro. one of the guys in the group asked me if i ever felt 100,000 Euro. no. we gently pet the dining room table together. there is a white grand piano autographed by john lennon. there are silk rugs, and hand-made chandeliers, crystal, silk, money everywhere. half of this stuff the ex-president has never seen or used, half of it he overpaid for, with his personnel pocketing the difference. the decor is not tasteful, rather, it is in the taste of money: wherever we can dumb more cash into, whatever costs more, is more flashy. the presidential palace in tajikistan, equally unnecessarily stupid, was at least open to the public, made as an official governmental structure. this is all private, just for one person. 1700 people worked there daily. more than half of it security. the lake on the bottom of the property was guarded, reportedly, by submarines. people were not allowed to use large surfaces of the water-space for fear of assassination. now all of this stands still, people who work there, who occupy and care for the space, do it out of their own will, charging money from visitors for both upkeep and their own food supplies. it is unclear what will happen to this place. technically, its owner remains alive and at large, somewhere in russia. he may claim it back, some private owner may claim to for himself. maybe the government will step in and claim the park for public use. what will happen with the house, the inside decor, remains unclear.

buki

i did not know what Buki was: maybe a village, maybe a park, maybe a park within a village that had a fountain. but we decided to go.
it is about a 2 h car ride, as i am told. packed in the car, we pick up my cousin's daughter and drive off. starting off on what seems like an interstate, we follow the GPS, sort of. for some reason, despite GPS's stern pleas to make a right turn, we do not turn right. we further ignore any attempts to redirect us and make a U-turn to go back and make a right. we are following the GPS, but we are no longer following the GPS. down an interstate, through the Ukrainian country-side. we stop at a Shell to pee and eat hot-dogs (coffee for me), to continue on the road of not following the GPS. it is unclear which direction we are headed, somewhere southwest, towards Odessa. the ride is bumpy, interrupted by GPS's annoying reminder that we are exceeding the allowed speed limit. are we there yet? i take a nap, maybe two. are we there yet? the GPS is guiding us through back roads now, we drive through a small town, ignoring pleas to make a right. are we there yet? the mid-day sun is getting hot, we are driving through vistas of fields. are we there yet? I have no hope left of reaching our destination altogether, but somehow, 3 hrs later we made it.
Buki is really an estate owned by an agrarian businessman and build for his family/the public. there is a church, a river, and a park. you can walk around the grounds, celebrate wedding here, or just relax on the weekend. we take a tour around the property. there is a alley with magically carved sculptures, there is a sculpture of a lady who brings good luck and fertility. there is a zoo. the zoo is super sad, especially, since i hate zoos. a cage with 2 bears, a cage with a lion, a cage with 2 other bears. i had to walk away. and the tour itself is littered with references to the owner: this is how old he is, this is when he bought this, this is what he did for his foster kids who live on teh property. it is odd as you realize you're walking through someone else's backyard, someone's very expensive backyard. after that we head back.
the decision is to stop by yet another village. but the gps, stupid gps, starts taking us through the back roads. we drive between village homes, chickens running across the street. i start getting nervous: it already took us 3 hrs to get here, and we are seemingly aimlessly lost again, despite the fact that multiple shirtless men stopped on the side of the road point us in the same general direction. after a while of sharing the road with farm animals, we decide to head home, ignoring the GPS, now because we actually found the right interstate. i am smelly, i need a shower.

pedestrian observations

so this happens a lot as i make my nightly pilgrimage to a wi-fi spot somewhere. my apartment is on the main street, sort of across the street from where the president works. as i'm walking down the street, around 6p, suddenly there are an increased number of cops, like every block on both sides increased number. they are whistling and making a lot of noise, basically, clearing the road of traffic. so like, making some cars move through very fast, forcing others to pull into side streets. the road clears, then suddenly three police cars, at intervals speed down the street in the opposite lane. suddenly, a convoy of three two police cars, and a black mercedes with one ahead, one in the back, and two mercedes SUVs with lights flashing flanking it, are flooring it down the street for about 3 blocks. they stop abruptly and turn onto a side street. this whole incident takes a total of 3 minutes. the roads were suddenly empty for half a minute and then traffic was restored, in slow moving pace. for a second i get nervous: should i be walking, or should i duck for cover in case there is shooting? but there are women with children on the opposite side of the street so there is no way i would be a shooting target. i guess the president also goes out for a walk.
Some of the women I have interviewed talked about ‘chinese napkins’. From what I can gather, this is spermicide and the women swear by it. After consulting with my co-workers, it is decided that I must procure some and bring it back, so I embark on the procurement mission. While planning this, I realize that acquiring contraceptives over the counter, in a conservative muslim country may be tricky. So I specifically decide to go to a pharmacy where I know the pharmacist is a woman, since I do not know what I’m looking for and imagine my interaction would sound something like “umm….do you have these napkins? They are chinese and someone recommended them to me as very good”. This pharmacy is quite a walk, and after getting there, all sweaty of course, imagine my surprise when I find a man behind the glass window. Shit. I proceed to have a full on 15-year-old-teenage-girl-buying-tampons-for-the-first-time moment. I cannot bring myself to ask this man what I need. I literally stand there, looking through the available product in the window giving myself a pep talk: you’re an adult, you’re a doctor, you do this all the time with your patients. Finally, I ask him if they have any chinese napkins. “would you like wet or dry?” dry??! That seems uncomfortable, until he brings out tissues. Oh, no, no, I am looking for like napkins to like not get pregnant? ‘we have this”—he brings out spermicidal suppositories. Ok, but maybe like in napkin form? Oh, yes, hold on. He climbs from behind the glass and opens another glass door to hand me pads. No, no, this is not quite it. Then he informs me they are all out. probably seeing my sad face, he gets on his phone and starts making phone calls. I’m sorry, the other pharmacies in Dushanbe are out too… damn, chinese napkins!
My last day. After transcribing for a while I am ready to walk out of the office. jonbek suggests we go out, since it is my last day. We hail an ueber-city cab to take us down the street. Except, the cab stalls in the middle of the street and will not start. No fear! Jonbek gets out of the car and pushes it (along with me, lady with a child, and the driver desperately trying to get his vehicle to start) down the street, the main street, until whatever gears catch and the car starts. We then walk towards the newly built presidential palace (I’ve counted this as the fourth one). We pass by a river, more like a trickle of muddy water, which Jonbek describes is the place where women who have been left by their husbands, jump into to drown themselves. I raise an argument: given that this ‘river’ is like 2 feet deep, I doubt anyone can successfully commit suicide by drowning in it. I mean, the stones will hurt, but drowning?? No it gets really deep in the summer!.....it is summer? The dispute is settled when jonbek points out that it is way sadder when the women take the kids with them. We pass the zoo (there is a zoo?? Yes, there are lions and bear…lions??? Well, lion and he is skinny and hungry, but yes he is there) on our way to the palace. After the tour, which for money is open to the public, we drink beer on the veranda overlooking an amusement park (‘the rides remain from the soviet era.” “have they been fixed since the soviet era?” “no”), listening to tajik sad music (it’s all about love), and talking about dating, which really means Jonbek telling me stories about his friends misadventures in multiple partner dating, and me acquiring prices of local sex workers.
On the way to the airport, there is a roadblock: the road to the airport is closed, and police cars are blocking traffic. Since the cab cannot get through, apparently my option is to walk, with my luggage. Which is when jonbek hires a cop car as a taxi to drive us to the airport. I am out.