David and I said goodby to Khujand on Thursday morning and were driven to Dushanbe — across two mountain ranges. It was a gorgeous, and occasionally nail-biting ride. I will likely post about it soon. However, this post is to see if, now that I am using a different way to access Internet, if I can post a photo. So if a photo appears with this post of my last discussion group at the American Corner in Khujand, then all will be well.
Posts Tagged With: Khujand
On the Road
Tajik university students performed The First Thanksgiving and Cinderella, sang American pop songs and danced to hip hop music to standing room only crowds of public school children around the Sugd District in March and early April.
Our friend Dildora Toshmatova taught a class on American Culture and Folklore at Khujand State University, Faculty of Foreign Languages, and the students prepared skits, musical numbers and audience participation activities that they took on the road. The class and theater production was made possible through a grant from the U.S. Embassy in Dushanbe, Tajikistan. Khujand, the second largest city in the country, is the largest city in the northern district, the Sugd District.
Dildora developed her interest in US folk traditions and culture when she was able to study for a semester at Penn State Harrisburg on a US grant for “junior teachers” at Tajik universities.
The 90-minute production included two skits (The First Thanksgiving and Cinderella) as well as a performance of a medley of pop songs, a hip hop dance number, poetry recitations, and games and quizzes for the audience to participate in. Below you will find a video of the highlights, as well as the complete performances of the two musical numbers.
The students took the show on the road, performing at five schools in the area on Saturdays in March and April. Saturday is a regular school day in Tajikistan. The schools are comprehensive – elementary through high school. They included:
- March 3 — Rumon Village, B. Gafurov District, School No. 26
- March 10 – Kistakuz Village, B. Gafurov District, School No. 5
- March 17 – Kairakum School No. 1
- March 31 – Patar Village, Kanibadam District, School No. 20
- April 7 – Khujand School No. 24
In addition, the students gave a command performance to their teachers, deans and peers at Khujand State University on April 11, at which time they were given their certificates for completing the class and also the special gift of having the final exam for that class waived.
David and I were able to attend the performances in Kistakuz and Patar Village, and the photos and videos are from those performances. I was also able to be at the performance at the university.
Here is the highlight video of the performance.
Here is the hip hop dance in its entirety.
Here is Farzona’s solo in its entirety. This video may be blocked in the US and other countries because of copyright. An abbreviated version is below. Please let me know if you were able to access this video in the US.
Here is the abbreviated version of Farzona’s solo. Please let me know if you were not able to access this video.
And last, here are some random photos and moments that I wanted to share in Before, During and After. The music is Joe Deranne’s Reel performed by De Dannan.
Dear friends and family: If you cannot access this YouTube video, please let me know.
High school senior Zarina and her cousin, university freshman Farangiz, volunteered to take me shopping for traditional Tajik clothes on March 30. We went to the large “Chinese” market outside of the city-proper on the way to the airport. I was told I would see a lot of Chinese people, but I didn’t. That’s because I was looking for the majority Chinese ethnic group, Han. Later I found out that the Chinese in this market are Uyghurs from the far Western province of China, Xinjiang, which borders Tajikistan. Uyghurs are a Turkic people and are more closely related to Tajiks than they are to Han Chinese.
The following slide show was built from a few photos I took on this shopping trip. It is an experiment to see if I could do it technologically. I will be working on a longer, more coherent and complicated slide show for another posting about Khujand State University’s student mobile theater project on American culture.
Here’s a photo of me wearing one of the two outfits I bought that day — along with several students and teachers from Patar Village school, in Kanibadam District, where the student mobile theater performed. But more on that later.
The city’s outside stage overlooking the Syr-Darya River with the Mongol Mountains as a back drop was the setting for a lovely production of dance and music late morning of Navruz. I had the small camera and was standing not terribly far from the stage. Unfortunately, I was also standing not so far from the government officials. I was told, several times, that I could not take photographs – first by someone standing near me, then by some burly looking secret service looking guys. I am guessing the reason was my proximity to the mayor and others. At one point, one of the “guards” was signaling that he wanted my camera, but I just moved away and then ignored him. Gallantly, a bunch of young men who were standing just in front of me argued my case, but lost the argument.
Luckily, David was farther back with the better camera with the nice zoom lens. He was standing on a wall and had an excellent view. Here are some of his photos, without captions.
I’m having some problems posting photos. I wanted to post two more of Navruz, but I wasn’t allowed to add more to the last post. So I tried to had both here, but it is only accepting one. But I will go ahead an post it. If you will remember, Navruz is the Persian/Turkic New Year celebration at the spring equinox. Next post will have photos of the dancing and singing program at Khujand’s celebrations.
KISTAKUZ TEA HOUSE
Kistakuz, not far from Khujand, is the home of a traditional tea house, financed by the president of Tajikistan. Construction began in 2010 and it is not yet finished. David and I got a tour of it on March 10. Walking into the main room, you feel like you have entered a cathedral or large mosque. The one large dome is supported by hand-carved wooden posts. The above photo was taken by David Sears.
Behind the tea house, workers are continuing the hand carving on columns. Women and men work in separate rooms because they are “more comfortable,” according to the man who was showing us around. I can deal with that. But, I was not happy when I heard that the women earned $200 a month and the men receive $500 a month – for essentially the same work. Because, we were told, the men are more experienced and work faster. The men are not older than the women, but still they might be more experienced. But 150% more experienced?
St. Patrick’s Day found us taking advantage of the 60 degree, bright blue weather, we walked to the park on the river with a Soviet plane. We can see that plane when we cross the Lenin Street bridge, the one David takes to work every day. It is a ways upstream, and we can see its nose close to the next bridge up – the New Bridge. So that was our destination.
The plane is somewhat like Ithaca, if you know that poem by Constantine P Cavafy. It is a destination and it is the journey that you should be thankful for. The plane is sad. Apparently, it was set up as a café, but hasn’t been used in years. I suspect it was a lively place during Soviet times, but it doesn’t look closed for the season. It looks closed for a decade or more. Right next to it is a rubbish heap.
But, with a couple of interesting short detours, it made for a fine 2½ hour walk.
I’m trying to be philosophical about the electrical cuts. It is a way of life here in Tajikistan. We had them in Dushanbe. We now have them in Khujand. But they are annoying.
One of the positive aspects of our apartment was that it was in the center of town and so had fewer power outages than elsewhere in town. That is true in that there are parts of town that on a regular basis do not have electricity during certain hours of the day (or more accurately, only have electricity during certain hours of the day). But recently, the central area of town has been doing without electricity, and what makes this annoying is its apparent randomness.
We spent about a week with electricity being cut at midnight or shortly thereafter, for anywhere from two to five hours. This was not horrible, just a mild inconvenience as it forced David to bed sooner than he would like and we had to be sure to be home from social events in time to get our showers in. (Without electricity, the water flows, but the bathroom is pitch black with no electricity and no hot water, even in the daylight.)
Then we started having power cut for a couple of hours in the late morning or early afternoon, and then again at night – sometimes as early as 7, sometimes as late as midnight.
Today electricity cut out about 11 am and returned at 6 pm. At 4:30, David gave up because he was too cold to stay in the apartment (temperatures had dropped a lot from the day before), so he went to the Grand Hotel restaurant (which has a generator) and got some coffee, read and warmed up. We were going to head back there at 6 for dinner, but the power returned just then. But then it turned off again at 9:15 to return at 9:45. Trying to figure out when it is safe to cook (we have an electric stove and oven, which takes a long time to heat) and when it is safe to do laundry (that takes 90 minutes at least) is a challenge.
And here’s the other annoyance. When the electricity is cut during the day, we use the computer and iPad sparingly in order to not use up their battery charge. As we found out in Dushanbe, if you have no electricity at night, the only mediated entertainment is reading books on the computers. It would be frightful to have lights go out at 7 in the evening for example and then not come back on for four hours, unless you have your computer screen from which to read.
As I wrote in my journal this afternoon – the whims of the electric current have become the organizing principles of our lives.
Here’s the irony. A block away is a square on the main street decorated for the big holiday coming up this week, Navruz. For about two weeks, during the day, it is sucking up electricity by amplifying live music during the lunch hour or blasting piped music and words through loudspeakers from about 10 until 5. Small, personal sacrifices for the good of the whole?
I wrote this last night and this morning I received an email from a friend who sent an Asia Plus article translated through Google (so a little hard to slog through), which essentially said the problems with electricity around the entire country is a complex problem. Low water in the reservoirs that produce the hydroelectric power is the official reason, but other possibilities might be that a lot of the electricity is being sold to Afghanistan or possibly just ineptitude. But what the article did remind me of is that there are lots of Tajiks living in villages who only have water 2-5 hours a day, so we may be frustrated, but not desperate.
Dinner with Farhod’s family
Farhod Fayzullaev, one of the English teachers at Khujand State University, invited David and me to his apartment for dinner the evening of International Women’s Day. It was a lovely evening, and gave us our first glimpse inside a Tajik’s home. We had a traditional meal – we sat on the floor at a low table full of little plates of cucumber and radish slivers, yogurt-based dips and several kinds of wrapped candies with a bowl of mandarins from Iran and winter apples from Tajikistan. After about an hour of chatting, with the movie Just Like Heaven playing in the background, the main dish arrived – plov (sometimes called pilaf). This is a mound of fried rice with small pieces of meat at the crown and shavings of vegetables and spices within the rice. Each region has its own variations, Farhod explained, some using yellow carrots, some using orange carrots, some using both. Plus the spices and other vegetables and even the oil used might vary. Farhod’s family included a bulb of cooked garlic at the top with the meat. Each couple shared a plate and ate with spoons.
Farhod’s parents shares what we would call a one-bedroom apartment with Farhod, his wife and young son. The apartment includes the entryway, kitchen, bathroom, living room and bedroom. One of the couples use the bedroom for its sleeping quarters, while the other couple sleeps in the living room. The living room is also Farhod’s home office, where he keeps his book and his laptop.
Life in the apartment is cozy, says Farhod. He is the youngest child of six, and while his parents are from the town of Istraravshan, about an hour from Khujand, Farhod does not want them living alone, especially in the winter when the electricity is off most of the day and the town in the mountain gets quite cold. The family is affectionate and Farhod’s mom dotes on her grandson, as well as her youngest son.
Unfortunately, we didn’t get to see much of Farhod’s wife, as she was mostly in the kitchen cooking the plov. But when we did see her, she was most hospitable and she seems to know some basic English.
Farhod’s mom did not speak English, but kept communicating with us through her son as translator. She particularly liked hearing the Tajik and Russian translations of some fun words that David is teaching his university students and has shared with Farhod (helter skelter, harum scarum, hanky panky, and the like). When asked, Dad was adamant that he preferred living in the USSR than in an independent Tajikistan. Life was cheaper and visiting Uzbekistan was easier. He spent much of his working life living in Tashkent. In fact, the family’s ethnicity is Uzbek and they have family members living in Uzbekistan. Now they need a visa to go there, which is expensive, because the relationship between those two countries is not good. Tajiks do not need visas to visit Russia or other Central Asian former Soviet countries such as Kyrgyzstan or Kazakhstan.