To Khiva

Doug and I went to Khiva Saturday. Khiva lies west of Tashkent (about an hour by air) near Urgench. As with much of Uzbekistan it is full of history and beautiful buildings.

 Most impressive to me was the amazing patterns of blue, green and white tiled walls of the madrassas (schools), the elaborately painted tri-panelled ceilings that looked down on these walls and one mosque that was full of 230 intricately carved wooden columns. The artwork is truly stunning. I could have taken hundreds of pictures just to try and capture each pattern represented. Symbolism is rife in the patterns. Our guide, Timur, pointed out that the figure that we, unfortunately, know as the swastika is an old Zoroastrian symbol innocently present long before the nazis. If you looked closely you could also find figures of Hindi gods like Shiva and Ganesh, the Christian cross, Star of David, arms and fingers reaching up in praise and, I’m sure, many hidden symbols - the meanings of which have yet to be disciphered. One column combined the various religious symbols signifying man’s unity. Supposedly the meaning of that was not made known when it was originally carved as that would have been met with ugly opposition. I wish more of our world were ready for it today.

I need to develop a better attitude towards vendors. I tend to shut down when people are shouting at me and pushing goods in my face, even when I am interested in buying something. I wanted to buy some Christmas gifts while in Khiva. Doug and I were looking for some decoratively carved cutting boards we had seen earlier. One young woman started in on us to come closer and look as she named all the things she had - even though they were in plain sight and we were already looking at them. He told her we were looking for cutting boards, which were not in sight. She said she had some. In the meantime another woman said that she had cutting boards. Doug went one way and I went the other to see cutting boards. Though pretty, they were poor quality, barely sanded smooth and unfinished. The woman who was showing Doug the boards kept yelling at me to get my attention. I ignored her as I was with someone in conversation. At one point she yelled in an ugly tone of voice, “Get over here!” She did this twice. We left. Earlier the silk vendor Timur introduced us to came over to us humbly, looking a little embarrassed at the attention and with a slight smile and showed us into his shop. I liked him. Even if I hadn’t been looking for suzani, I would have just wanted to buy something from him. I bought three suzani. I wish I had more language skills to tell that woman why I’d never even consider buying from her. I also wish I had a better attitude towards these people who work so hard, earn so little and are so desperate to prove themselves.

In the week leading up to the trip I read “A Carpet Ride to Khiva” by Christopher Aslan Alexander. He lived in Khiva for seven years and would probably still live there had he not made himself unpopular with the corrupt politicians he encountered. He started a carpet school/shop with high standards of using natural dyes and old school methods of weaving and pattern seeking eventually becoming the largest employer in the area. If you’re curious about the history of the area and life today I recommend reading his book. It is witty and informative without going overboard and helps develop perspective on the differences between our cultures. Some things you read will be disturbing like it’s illegal to beat your wife - in public. The government corruption is so rampant you may find yourself angry for these people. I can understand how lying is so prevalent, understood and accepted here.

I have often found myself wondering, “How, in this day and age, can anyone . . .?” Someone I shared the following story with said, “Well, until they (the Uzbeks) decide that they don’t want to live that way anymore, that’s what they’ll have.” As though they can change it by admitting that they don’t want to live that way. I have a short answer to that. There was a horrible massacre in Andijon in 2005. There was a protest over the bogus arrest of a prominent citizen. The people (mostly women with their children in tow) gathered outside the prison and waited asking for his release. There are many versions of this story. They were peaceful and unarmed. Tanks were positioned ‘just in case’. Depending on whose version you believe, some radicals heard of the peaceful protest and showed up. Eventually gunfire broke up. The tanks were moved in and indiscriminately gunned down everyone they could. Official death toll was 169; eye-witnesses put it in the area of 500-700. Quite a difference. What is unfathomable to us is that people in Khiva (and other parts of Uzbekistan) didn’t even know what had happened for some time. News programs are regularly blocked in Uzbekistan.The people had no way of knowing. The government regularly runs programming that features people (often children) singing songs about Uzbekistan. They are kept ignorant. The writer had access (somehow, that’s unclear to me) to BBC and knew of the uprising. It could be a simple matter of cable being too costly for the average citizen, I don’t know. I do know that certain internet sights remain blocked. Today news sights that have news of this area are blocked, Google maps is typically blocked, some American newspapers are blocked (sometimes by article; sometimes the entire sight), local newspapers are about four pages long and are full of editorials that pass as articles about how good the Uzbek government is. For their recent 20th Anniversary celebration a program was run on (and on and on) television of a split screen; half showing riots in France, half showing people picnicking in a Tashkent park, half showing the twin towers being attacked and half showing people playing music on the street in Tashkent. The message: life is good here; you don’t want to go there. It’s really unbelievable, but it’s true.

Ignorance here goes deeper than political and world news. I asked a woman in the gym bathroom recently how her exercise went that day. She said she didn’t exercise because she was on her period. I just said something like, ‘yeah, sometimes I don’t feel like it either.” She waited a minute then asked if it was okay to exercise when on our period. Yes, I assured her, we can. This woman was about 30. I have often alarmed the cleaning crew when, after I exercise, I stand in front of a fan to cool down. They worriedly tell me that I'll get sick. Every time I cough, my Russian teacher feels how cold my water is because they believe drinking cold water will make you sick. Sometimes it's funny, but, really, it's sad that they are kept ignorant to a large degree.There are some horrifying stories in the book about medical practices here.

Since leaving Khiva I have learned that some of Uzbekistan (excluding Tashkent) is limited to two or three hours of power per day. This goes on while the government sells power to neighboring countries. This goes on during the scorching summers (most homes have no air-conditioning anyway) and the frigid winter.

It amazes me that they not only survive, but they can create such beauty as we saw in Khiva and as we see in the local bazaars. I wish that the players of the Uzbek folk music with the rapid fingered rhythms of the doiras, the singing and whining of the gidzhak (a small violin-like instrument played in the lap like a cello) and the strumming of the dutar (a long, narrow, two-stringed guitar-like instrument) and the dancers didn't have to put up with this nonsense. And I wish that the people I've met at the Embassy, our compound and the nearby shops had the freedom to access information so they can have the knowlege to form informed opinions and safely voice those opinions.

Mostly, I wish that our world's leaders would know when it's time to step aside. I wish this could be seen as an act of wisdom instead of weakness. (Think of George Washington when he said, after being asked to serve a third term, that two was enough for one man.) I look forward to a day when the power of wisdom eclipses the power of might and the influence of wealth.