Seeing whole hosts of stars in the city garden feels like a gift. I learnt one of my favourite words so far in Tajik the other day, while sitting chatting with the mother in the dusk. Galasitora , which means constellations of stars.Sitora is linked linguistically to our word star – evidence of a common language between European languages and Persian thousands of years ago.
Do feel at ease in this house, and the garden and the space is a big part of that. Space and peace to do my work. Watch the flowers grow, and the strawberries form into pale green shapes that will soon be red. Their delicate flowers glistening round the plants lined in the well watered earth. It feels like the simple life, and then in 10 minutes you are on the main street, catching a cab in 30 seconds and riding in a share cab for 26pence down the tree lined main drag with pastel coloured buildings mainly dating from the 1920s, with rich and tumbledown stucco work placed somewhat haphazardly either side.
I remember first getting into bed, on my first night here, on a pile of traditional Tajik quilts, or kurpacha , and feeling so comfortable and at peace, somehow. Feeling good about where I was. I just go and look at the flowers grow, browny orange wall flowers, roses that are not yet out, another orange flower which I have forgotten the name of. When I read these travel books. Minaret of Djam, the Short walk in the Hindu Kush, the authors know all the names of the flora and fauna. Was this just the age, this is what they knew, or did they take detailed notes about what they saw so then they could ask people back home. Of course now we would just check the internet. Must even be a site where you can upload photos of birds for example and someone will tell you what it is.
It is funny how people don’t read here; people do not sit on benches, newspaper in hand turning the pages finding out what is going on elsewhere in the world. They do not reach in their pockets for a paperback while commuting to Circ, or the west of the city. They sit. They might chat, but often you see people sitting just sitting at the side of the road.
At home, and this seems to be pretty universal, in many of the families I have stayed with, the TV is on from morning to night, a friend and a window on the world. From cartoons, to badly Russian dubbed films, to ubiquitous Russian, Tajik, Persian and American dance music. Most surprisingly I even saw How clean is your house, dubbed into Persian! I leanrt that Iran is the dubbing capital of the world, even in front of France! They also have a show similar to our Come Dine with me all with Iranians living in London,and speaking Persian!
However, you cannot fault the little kindnesses that the guest receives in the Tajik house, the shoes lifted down from the rack as you go by so you can put your feet directly in them. Rinsing my clothes, both of us , me and S going hech gap ne, no problem. She won, and carried on washing them saying ‘you are my sister’. I feel looked after here. The beaming smile of N which lights up her face when she sees me, even though we can’t really chat. I smile back.
Saw Z the other day. It was late as I left my and I was surprised to see a picheni or biscuit cottage industry going on in the main room. N was icing one type of picheni, while S and Z were rolling pastry and cutting out others.
So I sat down with them, and while S talked on the phone to her boyfriend on the handsfree, her hands were busy rolling and shaping, pinching and placing. I was impressed at how she made dough by eye, adding flour, butter and eggs, rolling it into fine sheets which then were cut into squares, a slice of caramelised apple placed in each and then folded over and covered with icing and chocolate shavings. All this activity was in aid of the tui the next day, the wedding of their uncle’s daughter. I am sure that as S talked to her fiancée rolling the pastry, she thought of her own wedding.
Z was well and busy, she wanted me to come and talk to the students, which of course I agreed to. She also said that we would work out a time for me to meet her father and ask him some questions – I am thinking he would know who I could talk to about getting in to see the Museum under the statue.
I finally left them at 1am, I heard next day that they were up for another hour. Z had to give an 8am lecture the next day, bless her.
Tuesday, 3 May 2011
Bags, bags, bags
One person I did know at the Wedding party was Johan, who is J’s friend from South Africa. I went to his workshop a couple of days before. He was a lawyer once, who decided however he was sick of making money and wanted to do some good in the world. So he is here in Tajikistan running a workshop making leather bags. He realised that people were throwing the sheep and goat skins to their dogs to eat, rather than doing anything more useful with them. Equally there is so little small scale industry here, the people are not yet used to thinking about shifting for themselves so used to working on the collective farm or kolkhoz.
In the countryside, either they think about working the land, or if that cannot support them, the only other option they seem to find is going to Russia. This obviously splits up families, and often causes divorce, or the husband returns with HIV and gives it to his wife. Now around 12 families are supported by this workshop, which as he says is a drop in the Amu Darya, however it means at least 12 families won’t be split up.
Johan has trialled various tanning techniques using all natural ingredients, one of the best emulsifiers is found in fresh brains! However none of these being forthcoming, he has found alternatives such as cotton oil.
These skins all get sent to the workshop in Dushanbe from around the country, he pays between 30 and 40 somoni for each skin. Here they get made into bags, slippers etc. We went round the workshop with J, her friend, N, F the Professor’s son and J’s boss Mr Tamavadeh. He was lovely and unpretentious and we had a joke about Iranian taarof. He was from Iran!
So we sat in Johan’s flat, eating biltong and drinking tea, having a conversation which veered between Persian and English, with only F being able to understand both, and to a lesser extent J and then Johan – who speaks some Persian. I bought a bag to carry round my extra stuff in when I have my laptop.
http://www.tajiktrading.com/index.html
In the countryside, either they think about working the land, or if that cannot support them, the only other option they seem to find is going to Russia. This obviously splits up families, and often causes divorce, or the husband returns with HIV and gives it to his wife. Now around 12 families are supported by this workshop, which as he says is a drop in the Amu Darya, however it means at least 12 families won’t be split up.
Johan has trialled various tanning techniques using all natural ingredients, one of the best emulsifiers is found in fresh brains! However none of these being forthcoming, he has found alternatives such as cotton oil.
These skins all get sent to the workshop in Dushanbe from around the country, he pays between 30 and 40 somoni for each skin. Here they get made into bags, slippers etc. We went round the workshop with J, her friend, N, F the Professor’s son and J’s boss Mr Tamavadeh. He was lovely and unpretentious and we had a joke about Iranian taarof. He was from Iran!
So we sat in Johan’s flat, eating biltong and drinking tea, having a conversation which veered between Persian and English, with only F being able to understand both, and to a lesser extent J and then Johan – who speaks some Persian. I bought a bag to carry round my extra stuff in when I have my laptop.
http://www.tajiktrading.com/index.html
Visit to the sacred spring or mazar
On Monday we went to Romit, with J and the Professor, I had such a good afternoon out, slightly feeling like I was winging school, sitting in a nice car eating icecream when should have been working! We drove out past Vaksh, in the direction of Kulob and the Pamirs. Along Aini street, past J’s old flat, along a dusty section of unsurfaced road, without markings where the cars raced rally style as they jostled for position. Another wacky races moment. The road had been like that for eight months.
However we soon left the city behind and at Vaksh, which is a major city in Tajikistan, took a left and started climbing, first along a plain with the mountains in the background, and then along the banks of a river, passing ever more simple villages, with farmers herding goats and sheep, past holiday homes for the Academy of Sciences, the railway workers the police, all left over from Soviet times and still used today of course. The Professor drove slowly and it was a joy to be outside the city, with friends.
We drove as far as Romit, where there is a national park on one side of the road, we three and our picnic of bread and yoghurt drink hopped over the gate on the other side and climbed through the old Soviet garden with sweet smelling white lilac, where we came to the mazar or Sufi sacred spring, where there was a tree next to it hung with cloths of people who had visited the mazar. The spring was there beside it, sparkling down the rocks, looking out over the valley with the river at the bottom. Someone had tapped the spring higher up, and there was a water pipe running high over our heads to a place in the valley.
On our way home we stopped at what looked like a gutter, which apparently was fresh spring water, the Professor and J drank their glasses of water with gusto, I was slightly more cautious but drank it down anyway, trusting it would be alright. It was and I am fine, having no worse than the usual which seems to come and go just as quickly as my body accustoms itself to new diet (!) and bacteria.
The next day we saw the Professor’s garden and his den, the library on the top floor reached by a precarious set of metal steps, into the roof space. It was a magical place, and one I could dream of having one day, full of books and pictures on esoteric subjects. After showing us books of tankas of Tibeten health, of philosophy and yoga, he gave me a book on Aryan anthropology, one of his. I will have to get it translated.
After a quick breakfast, TV on of course, a host of Iranian singers accompanying J wherever she goes, of cream, non and walnuts as well as two fried eggs (well maybe it wasn’t that quick) we set off. The Professor kindly dropping me home in time for my Tajik lesson.
However we soon left the city behind and at Vaksh, which is a major city in Tajikistan, took a left and started climbing, first along a plain with the mountains in the background, and then along the banks of a river, passing ever more simple villages, with farmers herding goats and sheep, past holiday homes for the Academy of Sciences, the railway workers the police, all left over from Soviet times and still used today of course. The Professor drove slowly and it was a joy to be outside the city, with friends.
We drove as far as Romit, where there is a national park on one side of the road, we three and our picnic of bread and yoghurt drink hopped over the gate on the other side and climbed through the old Soviet garden with sweet smelling white lilac, where we came to the mazar or Sufi sacred spring, where there was a tree next to it hung with cloths of people who had visited the mazar. The spring was there beside it, sparkling down the rocks, looking out over the valley with the river at the bottom. Someone had tapped the spring higher up, and there was a water pipe running high over our heads to a place in the valley.
On our way home we stopped at what looked like a gutter, which apparently was fresh spring water, the Professor and J drank their glasses of water with gusto, I was slightly more cautious but drank it down anyway, trusting it would be alright. It was and I am fine, having no worse than the usual which seems to come and go just as quickly as my body accustoms itself to new diet (!) and bacteria.
The next day we saw the Professor’s garden and his den, the library on the top floor reached by a precarious set of metal steps, into the roof space. It was a magical place, and one I could dream of having one day, full of books and pictures on esoteric subjects. After showing us books of tankas of Tibeten health, of philosophy and yoga, he gave me a book on Aryan anthropology, one of his. I will have to get it translated.
After a quick breakfast, TV on of course, a host of Iranian singers accompanying J wherever she goes, of cream, non and walnuts as well as two fried eggs (well maybe it wasn’t that quick) we set off. The Professor kindly dropping me home in time for my Tajik lesson.
Being spoilt by the Ambassador...
Went to the Ambassador’s residence (even a crest on the wall, thought it would be all a lot more subtle!) for the Royal Wedding Party on Friday, knowing practically no one. As I got there, suddenly felt awful had brought no gift – thought it would be smarter than in reality it was. Thought everyone would be very much in their glad rags! But no – a few dresses smattering the crowd (for the ladies), but also some more everyday attire. I suppose that the kind of people who come and work in Tajikistan are mostly working for aid agencies. Nobody comes here to get rich! Strange to be surrounded by expats, and so many Brits!
The wedding was being watched on big screens, with union jack bunting aplenty decorating the garden where it was held. I made sure that I had to mingle during the sermon.
Most of the most interesting conversations I had that day were with Tajiks, however, with Mukhibullo, the British Ambassador’s political advisor who I had met at SwordeTeppaand Shurat who works for DFID, who I might interview. He knew quite a lot about the Samanid period, which he said he had learnt at school during the Soviet times. He spoke about IsmoilSomoni cancelling the people’s taxes to maintain the upkeep of the city wall of Bukhara, saying “I am the wall of Bukhara”, I had to interject that, just to show I knew what he was talking about!
Also spoke with the French ambassador, who goes by the quite fabulous name of Henry Zipper de Fabiani. He came up to me saying you’re a historian, let’s talk! He was very well informed and we chatted for a while about archaeological sites and museums in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan.
As I left I could have kicked myself, I had talked to two ambassadors, and not once had managed to fit in the immortal line, “Ambassador, you are spoiling us”!
At my local Morning Star café on Sunday was next to a group of English people who had met at the party the day before. We started chatting. They were interesting, lived in Istaravshan, teaching English and learning Tajik. They are planning to be there for the next four years! Wow, having been to that town, that is pretty hard going. But at least there are a few of them.
They were talking about people using fire to cleanse during an illness as well as not having a broom standing in the house. It is interesting how many of the Tajiks they were talking to thought these were Islamic customs. And they even said that you can find mention of them in the Qur’an. They are much more likely to be pre-Islamic Zoroastrian beliefs which are still being used and believed in almost 2000 years later.
The wedding was being watched on big screens, with union jack bunting aplenty decorating the garden where it was held. I made sure that I had to mingle during the sermon.
Most of the most interesting conversations I had that day were with Tajiks, however, with Mukhibullo, the British Ambassador’s political advisor who I had met at SwordeTeppaand Shurat who works for DFID, who I might interview. He knew quite a lot about the Samanid period, which he said he had learnt at school during the Soviet times. He spoke about IsmoilSomoni cancelling the people’s taxes to maintain the upkeep of the city wall of Bukhara, saying “I am the wall of Bukhara”, I had to interject that, just to show I knew what he was talking about!
Also spoke with the French ambassador, who goes by the quite fabulous name of Henry Zipper de Fabiani. He came up to me saying you’re a historian, let’s talk! He was very well informed and we chatted for a while about archaeological sites and museums in Tajikistan and Uzbekistan.
As I left I could have kicked myself, I had talked to two ambassadors, and not once had managed to fit in the immortal line, “Ambassador, you are spoiling us”!
At my local Morning Star café on Sunday was next to a group of English people who had met at the party the day before. We started chatting. They were interesting, lived in Istaravshan, teaching English and learning Tajik. They are planning to be there for the next four years! Wow, having been to that town, that is pretty hard going. But at least there are a few of them.
They were talking about people using fire to cleanse during an illness as well as not having a broom standing in the house. It is interesting how many of the Tajiks they were talking to thought these were Islamic customs. And they even said that you can find mention of them in the Qur’an. They are much more likely to be pre-Islamic Zoroastrian beliefs which are still being used and believed in almost 2000 years later.
Friday, 22 April 2011
A village house in the capital
As I walk down between carefully planted strawberries, and fig trees beginning to show their wares, I feel happy with the warm morning sun on me. There are geraniums, lemon mint, roses and vines under the cherry trees. When I arrived ten days ago the blossom was in its full glory, but now it has scattered on the ground like confetti for an unknown wedding. The eldest daughter S is getting married next month and has a smile and happy air about her as she cleans and cooks, her phone playing music wherever she goes. This is the family I am staying with, for how long, who knows, but it is good for my Tajik as they speak no English.
I have met my supervisor who likes the direction of my work and her present, and has even written an article along the lines of my topic.
So the mother was telling me that when they arrived there was nothing in the garden apart from a couple of trees and lots of stones. Now it is a veritable paradise, all through her hard work. But as she says, it makes her happy. All of this I understood in Tajik. So felt pleased, however basic. I had my first Tajik lesson yesterday, so hopefully this will help.
This wonderful garden is not on the outskirts of Dushanbe down some minor road. But it is just five minutes’ walk from the Rudaki Street, the Oxford Street, Whitehall and West End rolled into one, there is only one main street here. The house is behind the Ped or Pedagogical Institute near the Botanical gardens.
The house is simple with an outside drop toilet and bathroom with concrete floor but shower and hot water. But it is comfortable and I make my bed on piled thin mattresses every night, Tajik style.I feel back to nature, as it were, pissing with a pile of wood near me, looking at the ants crawl in the warm earth.
Last week I went to Kurgan Teppa and gave my presentation at the English Language Day event. How much actually was understood past the general excitement of the day, the microphone which had the opposite effect, and you would be better off shouting. But it was great to be involved, met the English Ambassador Trevor Moore who was guest of honour and got a Royal Wedding party invite out of it, at the Ambassadorial residency next week. Royal weddings are not really my thing, but parties, especially where there is a chance I can say “Ambassador you’re spoiling us”, definitely are!
The funny thing was that even after being introduced as the guest of honour, admittedly using the poor microphone, and giving out all the certificates, a few of the students came up to me to ask me who is this tall man with the mop of grey hair?
I have danced around the living room with my Iranian friends, J & N and N’s teenage daughters and drunk vodka to the Rumi quotation, “One heart is better than one language” hamdil az hamzabani khushtar ast.
I have met my supervisor who likes the direction of my work and her present, and has even written an article along the lines of my topic.
So I feel happy and am beginning to settle back into my Central Asian life.
Friday, 11 February 2011
Notes from the gender coalface 2
The following comments are directly taken from conversations I had mostly with Tajik women (and one man) about their country and its various attitudes to women. Many of these people were Pamiri Ismailis who see themselves as having a markedly different culture and attitudes than other Tajiks. They have their own slant on things. This is what they wanted to tell me, and I have put in very little of my own interpretation, except to add in web links where I believe these may be useful.
In many Tajik families (but seemingly less so among the Pamiris), the wife is seen as a cook, cleaner and baby-maker, who does not eat with the husband if he has guests. Pamiri Ismailis however, maintain that these attitudes are less common among their community.
An Ismaili male friend F told me that, following the Aga Khan’s teaching, the education of girls is seen as more important than the education of boys, among Ismailis. This is because it is women who spend more time with their children during their child’s formative early years. Thus it is seen that educating women is raising the education standards for the whole of society.
The husband, F, works in IT and the wife P works in a supermarket. They live in Dushanbe, having moved here recently from the Pamirs. The fact that the wife works, and with young children, would be much less common outside the capital. Their two year old son is sent to kindergarten.
Their 6 year old elder daughter is currently being looked after by her grandparents in the Pamirs. As a Pamiri girl her education is seen as paramount, and she can be educated well in the mountains. It seems to be more common and accepted in Tajikistan that children live with someone else in the extended family, often the grandparents.
Ismaili women tell me that it is seen by some people that men should be educated more than women, or to put it another way women should be less educated than their husbands. So a woman could be overeducated to find a husband.
They tell me that it is an imported idea, which is taking some hold amongst Tajiks and even some members of their own community. Marriage is still seen to be the main aim for women today in Tajik society, and many people wonder what the point of educating a woman is if she is just going to sit at home? Indeed that is the literal translation of khaneshin, or housewife in Tajik, ‘she who sits at home’. There is no credit in this word paid to the hard work women do, looking after home and family.
An educated woman is seen to be less likely to be submissive to her husband and his family, and also more likely to know her rights and want to stand up for herself.
Now it is against the law to leave school before 18 years, a law which just changed in 2009. However it still seems that many girls, especially in rural areas do not continue much past primary school. One woman in L’s apartment block is keeping her 12 year old daughter at home to help with the baby. L wanted to report her to the police, but knew that it would not do any good, and only result in a fine or bribe for the poor woman to pay, and the daughter still wouldn’t go to school.
http://iwpr.net/report-news/tajikistan-teenage-girls-dropping-out-school http://iwpr.net/report-news/tackling-early-marriage-tajikistan
http://acr.hrschool.org/mainfile.php/0184/326
L is an intelligent and feisty Pamiri woman, who won scholarships to study in the West, as did her husband. She also has a strong Ismaili faith and is involved with her community. However now, after a long time abroad, both her and her husband are back in Tajikistan, working for international aid organisations. They are trying to change the country from within and contribute to its development. She is really sad about women not working or getting a worse education than used to happen during the Soviet period.
She told me the sacrifices her father went through to give her and her brothers and sisters an education. During Tajikistan’s civil war (1992-97), she had to walk for an hour each way through the mountains in the mountainous Pamirs to go to school. Often there were not enough clothes to wear in the bitter winters when the Pamirs were cut off by snow from the rest of the country. There was hardly any food to eat, apart from what could be grown in the mountain valleys. Their family, like many others survived on a food similar to porridge. As there were no goods in the shops most of these were closed.
When her father discovered that she was one of the finalists to go to America to spend a year at American high school, he sold one of their cows for meat. She protested, as this was the main source of income for her family. This money enabled her to travel to Dushanbe for the final competition. It was 1994 and she was fifteen years old.
Her first time in her capital city was fraught with danger. She did not know anyone, the fighting of the civil war that she had largely escaped in the mountains was raging round Dushanbe, and the city was under constant curfews. However in spite of all this she won the competition and travelled to the US to attend high school. This naturally was a huge culture shock for a young girl who had hardly even travelled round her own country. She is still in touch with her American host family, which she regards as her second family.
L believes things are going backwards in Tajikistan, especially where women’s rights are concerned. In the share taxis and minibuses there are often religious tapes playing. One time she told me she stood her ground, saying “Either you give me my money back or stop the tape now as I cannot bear this any more!” The man on the tape was saying that if a woman raises her voice at her husband then it would literally take years off his life. The message was clear: whatever a husband did, there was no justification for a woman to speak out or back. L told the other women in the taxi “How can you stand to listen this? You have to think about what they are saying and what it means for women and how we are treated!”
However, sadly in general, L she thinks that no one is speaking about what happens to women, no one is writing about it, although when she and her friends get together they feel bad that they are not doing it either. At the moment her job with an international organisation means she cannot speak out about such things, at least under her own name. However she feels something should be done.
Today there is a very high rate of female suicide and it is steadily mounting. Women often do not see any way out when their husbands or their husband’s families treat them badly. It is seen as wrong or impossible to return to their own families, and very few women have independent means to live without either their husbands’ or their own families’ support and protection.
Often I was told (by women) that a girl is only wanted if it is the third or fourth child, is seen as only good for marrying off and then to produce children. And that if they don’t do either of those what is the point of them?
Women I spoke to told of the difficulty women have being unmarried in their mid thirties. One female friend, Z, told me that her brothers are supported by the family much more than her or her sisters. For example the sons were bought flats by her parents but the daughters were not. While her older sister has managed to get her own flat she has not been able to. Sons traditionally have to support families of their own, thus their own parents will do their utmost to help them. Whereas traditionally daughters should be supported by her husband and his family. Buying an apartment is almost impossible without parental help.
Although Z’s parents have helped her, she knows that at 34 she is very old to get married. She is not provided for by her husband or her family – in the same way as the sons.
A curious teenager M came to visit, keen to meet me, an English person. She couldn’t believe I was able to travel round Tajikistan on my own, not speaking the language! She speaks very street Tajik, and doesn’t understand the Tajik word for ‘research’, or Arabic words like ‘jadid’ meaning ‘new’, that is commonly used in Persian. These are words that an educated Tajik would understand. L thinks that she doesn’t know or understand that there are different registers, and that she is not being taught these words in school. L does not believe that it is a very good school.
M was shocked that L’s husband was doing the washing up, letting his heavily pregnant wife relax. L had to tell him to stop as it would get round the whole apartment block, and his role as a husband would be undermined and remarked upon negatively by others.
People in heat of summer used to chuck used nappies out of the window, these were not put in a plastic bag. When L complained about this to a neighbour, they replied that those people are from a family who lives near Kulyab, (where the President, Imomali Rahmon is from), and many of them are in the military or are traffic cops.
The other woman said “ Don’t complain as it’s not worth it, it won’t do any good. They won’t change their ways, as they are the ones who think they’re educated. They think they are better than everyone else.”
L is trying to improve her landing in the apartment block, which is shared by four flats. They were all grateful when she put electric light in, as before the landing was in darkness. However none of them had thought to do it, or wanted to pay for it. L cleaned the landing for a long time by herself before the other flats agreed to get together a rota.
Now she has grander plans, painting the landing, and getting the lift going to the 6th floor where they live, instead of having to walk down from the seventh. This would be much more difficult with a pram. Not that many parents have prams in Dushanbe. The state of the pavements mean that most children get carried around clutched to the chest of the mother or father.
L told me that Sunni Muslim women are not allowed to enter most mosques to pray. Indeed, while I was in Dushanbe last October, the only ‘Women’s mosque’, where they could pray next to the men was burnt down apparently by arson. According to the same article, women have been forbidden from attending mosque prayers since 2004.
http://www.rferl.org/content/Islamic_Party_Cries_Foul_As_Tajikistans_Womens_Mosque_Burns/2200792.html
It is fairly common for men to have three or four wives, it is happening both in the villages and among government ministers. The latter are educated people who provide luxury homes for each wife. But in Tajikistan it does not work as it does in Arabic countries, where it is the law to provide equally for all wives. In Tajikistan if a husband has a favourite wife, there is nothing to stop the him favouring her whilst the children from his unloved wives are left to starve.
My friend also questions how can they support four luxury households on their government salaries, which might be $1000 / month. They obtain much more than this from corruption.
Talking to Z, it is easier in the country for men to have up to four wives, as with a bit of land they can feed themselves. The fathers don’t think about educating their children just having as many as possible, as this is important to show their virility build a power base and have some security when the couple is older. So many children are not going to school and are hanging around the bazaars, working from an early age. My friend wonders how are they going to get on?
Her niece goes to school which costs $500 pa. which is prohibitive for most families.
It seems that the practise of taking multiple wives also stems from the Civil War, when many men died, leaving an estimated 50,000 orphans and 20,000 widows of to fend for themselves.
http://www.adb.org/Documents/Books/Country_briefing_papers/Women_in_Tajikistan/women_in_tajikistan.pdf
Second wives are not legal under Tajik law, although widely accepted. So if the husband wishes to divorce them, which he can do by saying se talaq “I divorce you” three times, they have no rights to property or to any recompense for themselves or their children. Under Islamic law, husbands should look after their divorced wives, but this is not happening.
http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&cid=1252188255899&pagename=Zone-English-News%2FNWELayout
These husbands sometimes divorce wives by text message – which is in contradiction of Islamic law, which states that the se talaq should be in the presence of the woman.
Today, with so many men migrating to work in Russia and Kazakhstan, women are left at home with the husband’s family, often for years, hoping that the money keeps coming for their upkeep. Sadly these men often find other wives in their new homes.
Z also told me that it is becoming more difficult being a woman in Tajikistan. She thinks that Tajik men would like to do the same to women as in Afghanistan – but the women here are more protected under the law. However reading the following article, the law does not protect women in reality
http://iwpr.net/report-news/gender-equality-dead-letter-tajikistan
Contraception in TJ is practised but many men don’t like wearing condoms – (as anywhere). They also think that for a woman to have an orgasm is a sin, and don’t want her to come as then she might look for pleasure elsewhere.
She also talked about how at the moment in Tajikistan in the event of a divorce the children stay with the mother. However it is possible that the law might change to bring them more in line with other Muslim countries, so that the children stay with the father. At the moment if there are two children the father might take one if the mother agrees. At the moment both children would not go to the father like in Iran for example.
http://iwpr.net/report-news/divorce-leaves-tajik-women-out-cold
http://www.wunrn.com/news/2009/02_09/02_02_09/020209_tajikistan.htm
In many Tajik families (but seemingly less so among the Pamiris), the wife is seen as a cook, cleaner and baby-maker, who does not eat with the husband if he has guests. Pamiri Ismailis however, maintain that these attitudes are less common among their community.
An Ismaili male friend F told me that, following the Aga Khan’s teaching, the education of girls is seen as more important than the education of boys, among Ismailis. This is because it is women who spend more time with their children during their child’s formative early years. Thus it is seen that educating women is raising the education standards for the whole of society.
The husband, F, works in IT and the wife P works in a supermarket. They live in Dushanbe, having moved here recently from the Pamirs. The fact that the wife works, and with young children, would be much less common outside the capital. Their two year old son is sent to kindergarten.
Their 6 year old elder daughter is currently being looked after by her grandparents in the Pamirs. As a Pamiri girl her education is seen as paramount, and she can be educated well in the mountains. It seems to be more common and accepted in Tajikistan that children live with someone else in the extended family, often the grandparents.
Ismaili women tell me that it is seen by some people that men should be educated more than women, or to put it another way women should be less educated than their husbands. So a woman could be overeducated to find a husband.
They tell me that it is an imported idea, which is taking some hold amongst Tajiks and even some members of their own community. Marriage is still seen to be the main aim for women today in Tajik society, and many people wonder what the point of educating a woman is if she is just going to sit at home? Indeed that is the literal translation of khaneshin, or housewife in Tajik, ‘she who sits at home’. There is no credit in this word paid to the hard work women do, looking after home and family.
An educated woman is seen to be less likely to be submissive to her husband and his family, and also more likely to know her rights and want to stand up for herself.
Now it is against the law to leave school before 18 years, a law which just changed in 2009. However it still seems that many girls, especially in rural areas do not continue much past primary school. One woman in L’s apartment block is keeping her 12 year old daughter at home to help with the baby. L wanted to report her to the police, but knew that it would not do any good, and only result in a fine or bribe for the poor woman to pay, and the daughter still wouldn’t go to school.
http://iwpr.net/report-news/tajikistan-teenage-girls-dropping-out-school http://iwpr.net/report-news/tackling-early-marriage-tajikistan
http://acr.hrschool.org/mainfile.php/0184/326
L is an intelligent and feisty Pamiri woman, who won scholarships to study in the West, as did her husband. She also has a strong Ismaili faith and is involved with her community. However now, after a long time abroad, both her and her husband are back in Tajikistan, working for international aid organisations. They are trying to change the country from within and contribute to its development. She is really sad about women not working or getting a worse education than used to happen during the Soviet period.
She told me the sacrifices her father went through to give her and her brothers and sisters an education. During Tajikistan’s civil war (1992-97), she had to walk for an hour each way through the mountains in the mountainous Pamirs to go to school. Often there were not enough clothes to wear in the bitter winters when the Pamirs were cut off by snow from the rest of the country. There was hardly any food to eat, apart from what could be grown in the mountain valleys. Their family, like many others survived on a food similar to porridge. As there were no goods in the shops most of these were closed.
When her father discovered that she was one of the finalists to go to America to spend a year at American high school, he sold one of their cows for meat. She protested, as this was the main source of income for her family. This money enabled her to travel to Dushanbe for the final competition. It was 1994 and she was fifteen years old.
Her first time in her capital city was fraught with danger. She did not know anyone, the fighting of the civil war that she had largely escaped in the mountains was raging round Dushanbe, and the city was under constant curfews. However in spite of all this she won the competition and travelled to the US to attend high school. This naturally was a huge culture shock for a young girl who had hardly even travelled round her own country. She is still in touch with her American host family, which she regards as her second family.
L believes things are going backwards in Tajikistan, especially where women’s rights are concerned. In the share taxis and minibuses there are often religious tapes playing. One time she told me she stood her ground, saying “Either you give me my money back or stop the tape now as I cannot bear this any more!” The man on the tape was saying that if a woman raises her voice at her husband then it would literally take years off his life. The message was clear: whatever a husband did, there was no justification for a woman to speak out or back. L told the other women in the taxi “How can you stand to listen this? You have to think about what they are saying and what it means for women and how we are treated!”
However, sadly in general, L she thinks that no one is speaking about what happens to women, no one is writing about it, although when she and her friends get together they feel bad that they are not doing it either. At the moment her job with an international organisation means she cannot speak out about such things, at least under her own name. However she feels something should be done.
Today there is a very high rate of female suicide and it is steadily mounting. Women often do not see any way out when their husbands or their husband’s families treat them badly. It is seen as wrong or impossible to return to their own families, and very few women have independent means to live without either their husbands’ or their own families’ support and protection.
Often I was told (by women) that a girl is only wanted if it is the third or fourth child, is seen as only good for marrying off and then to produce children. And that if they don’t do either of those what is the point of them?
Women I spoke to told of the difficulty women have being unmarried in their mid thirties. One female friend, Z, told me that her brothers are supported by the family much more than her or her sisters. For example the sons were bought flats by her parents but the daughters were not. While her older sister has managed to get her own flat she has not been able to. Sons traditionally have to support families of their own, thus their own parents will do their utmost to help them. Whereas traditionally daughters should be supported by her husband and his family. Buying an apartment is almost impossible without parental help.
Although Z’s parents have helped her, she knows that at 34 she is very old to get married. She is not provided for by her husband or her family – in the same way as the sons.
A curious teenager M came to visit, keen to meet me, an English person. She couldn’t believe I was able to travel round Tajikistan on my own, not speaking the language! She speaks very street Tajik, and doesn’t understand the Tajik word for ‘research’, or Arabic words like ‘jadid’ meaning ‘new’, that is commonly used in Persian. These are words that an educated Tajik would understand. L thinks that she doesn’t know or understand that there are different registers, and that she is not being taught these words in school. L does not believe that it is a very good school.
M was shocked that L’s husband was doing the washing up, letting his heavily pregnant wife relax. L had to tell him to stop as it would get round the whole apartment block, and his role as a husband would be undermined and remarked upon negatively by others.
People in heat of summer used to chuck used nappies out of the window, these were not put in a plastic bag. When L complained about this to a neighbour, they replied that those people are from a family who lives near Kulyab, (where the President, Imomali Rahmon is from), and many of them are in the military or are traffic cops.
The other woman said “ Don’t complain as it’s not worth it, it won’t do any good. They won’t change their ways, as they are the ones who think they’re educated. They think they are better than everyone else.”
L is trying to improve her landing in the apartment block, which is shared by four flats. They were all grateful when she put electric light in, as before the landing was in darkness. However none of them had thought to do it, or wanted to pay for it. L cleaned the landing for a long time by herself before the other flats agreed to get together a rota.
Now she has grander plans, painting the landing, and getting the lift going to the 6th floor where they live, instead of having to walk down from the seventh. This would be much more difficult with a pram. Not that many parents have prams in Dushanbe. The state of the pavements mean that most children get carried around clutched to the chest of the mother or father.
L told me that Sunni Muslim women are not allowed to enter most mosques to pray. Indeed, while I was in Dushanbe last October, the only ‘Women’s mosque’, where they could pray next to the men was burnt down apparently by arson. According to the same article, women have been forbidden from attending mosque prayers since 2004.
http://www.rferl.org/content/Islamic_Party_Cries_Foul_As_Tajikistans_Womens_Mosque_Burns/2200792.html
It is fairly common for men to have three or four wives, it is happening both in the villages and among government ministers. The latter are educated people who provide luxury homes for each wife. But in Tajikistan it does not work as it does in Arabic countries, where it is the law to provide equally for all wives. In Tajikistan if a husband has a favourite wife, there is nothing to stop the him favouring her whilst the children from his unloved wives are left to starve.
My friend also questions how can they support four luxury households on their government salaries, which might be $1000 / month. They obtain much more than this from corruption.
Talking to Z, it is easier in the country for men to have up to four wives, as with a bit of land they can feed themselves. The fathers don’t think about educating their children just having as many as possible, as this is important to show their virility build a power base and have some security when the couple is older. So many children are not going to school and are hanging around the bazaars, working from an early age. My friend wonders how are they going to get on?
Her niece goes to school which costs $500 pa. which is prohibitive for most families.
It seems that the practise of taking multiple wives also stems from the Civil War, when many men died, leaving an estimated 50,000 orphans and 20,000 widows of to fend for themselves.
http://www.adb.org/Documents/Books/Country_briefing_papers/Women_in_Tajikistan/women_in_tajikistan.pdf
Second wives are not legal under Tajik law, although widely accepted. So if the husband wishes to divorce them, which he can do by saying se talaq “I divorce you” three times, they have no rights to property or to any recompense for themselves or their children. Under Islamic law, husbands should look after their divorced wives, but this is not happening.
http://www.islamonline.net/servlet/Satellite?c=Article_C&cid=1252188255899&pagename=Zone-English-News%2FNWELayout
These husbands sometimes divorce wives by text message – which is in contradiction of Islamic law, which states that the se talaq should be in the presence of the woman.
Today, with so many men migrating to work in Russia and Kazakhstan, women are left at home with the husband’s family, often for years, hoping that the money keeps coming for their upkeep. Sadly these men often find other wives in their new homes.
Z also told me that it is becoming more difficult being a woman in Tajikistan. She thinks that Tajik men would like to do the same to women as in Afghanistan – but the women here are more protected under the law. However reading the following article, the law does not protect women in reality
http://iwpr.net/report-news/gender-equality-dead-letter-tajikistan
Contraception in TJ is practised but many men don’t like wearing condoms – (as anywhere). They also think that for a woman to have an orgasm is a sin, and don’t want her to come as then she might look for pleasure elsewhere.
She also talked about how at the moment in Tajikistan in the event of a divorce the children stay with the mother. However it is possible that the law might change to bring them more in line with other Muslim countries, so that the children stay with the father. At the moment if there are two children the father might take one if the mother agrees. At the moment both children would not go to the father like in Iran for example.
http://iwpr.net/report-news/divorce-leaves-tajik-women-out-cold
http://www.wunrn.com/news/2009/02_09/02_02_09/020209_tajikistan.htm
Friday, 4 February 2011
Notes from the gender coalface
My friend P told me about her family, one day sitting in the cosy dining area just off the kitchen, which in the night time served as the parents’ bed. The children were fed and she was enjoying a brief hour’s relaxation. “During the Soviet period”, she told me, “My mother, S, was not allowed to go to school, she was stopped from attending by her own father as she was a girl.” It was not thought desirable or necessary to educate girls, as they were only going to grow up to become wives and mothers.
P describes her grandfather as being like an Afghan man. Because the family lived in the village, near Kurgan Tepe, in southern Tajikistan, it was easy enough for him to keep his daughter out of school, even during Soviet times. If they had lived in the city it would have been more difficult. Teachers did come round to try and get the grandfather to let his daughter attend school, but he was known for being a hard and angry man, and the eventually the teachers gave up.
S’s mother died when she herself was only three or four, and her father took new wife who was also horrible to her. She ended up being a cleaner at the university – which was a good job then paying a living wage, (although no longer today).
P’s mother got married, but her husband (P’s father) died at the early age of 23, after which she took another husband. Even if she had not wanted to, it would have been very difficult for her to live on her own. P underlines what a very hard life her mother had. She apologises for telling me a sad story.
However, P got a university education, getting a Tajik language diploma, a leap forward indeed from her own mother’s education. She would like to return to work teaching at the Lycee perhaps, but this depends on her husband. He has said that maybe when her youngest child is 14, in two years’ time, she will no longer need her mother so much and P may go to work.
Talking to many Tajik women they told me how women are expected to leave work when they get married, which indeed is what often took place in the United Kingdom only 50 years ago. Most women, it seems, according to one woman I spoke to, are happy to do this. My friend, N thinks in Dushanbe maybe 60% of women give up their jobs on marriage but in Kurgan Tepe over 80% do. This is because the southern city is more conservative. There is also a higher level of education in the capital.
Staying with P, I got into the rhythm of family life, discovering that naps after lunch are quite the done thing. Women who are housewives and their children returning from school, curl up on their mattresses in the corner for an hour or so. I was considered slightly strange for managing a whole day without a nap! Women at home are grabbing a well -deserved moment for themselves, a moment to indulge their daydreaming. They are often first to rise and in the evening they are busy cooking, serving and generally looking after the rest of the family. I guess this also makes extra sense in the summer, when the sultry days mean that getting up earlier when it is cooler is preferable.
P is wondering about getting a washing machine, which her husband could afford, having a well-paid job; unlike the majority of Tajik women who wash clothes by hand, for whom the cost would be prohibitive. But, she says that “The clothes washing for a family of four keeps me thin, as its high energy work, and there is so much of it”. She often wondered about the slim women on TV and grabbed her flesh, wondering how she could be like them. I told her that these women would work out at the gym many times a week. P hardly ever left the flat and eating, it seemed, was one of the few pleasures she could indulge in easily.
She told me that the bikinis being worn by the Miss World programme were bad, but that didn’t stop the family sitting down and watching the event! Tajiks are used to Russian television with its female flesh on show, so as long as it wasn’t their daughters perhaps, they didn’t mind watching a bit of ‘saucy’ family entertainment!
N said that her father did not mind her wearing a bikini in a swimming pool, and would wear it in front of him but this is unusual, I think. I remember even my own (Western, but traditional) father being slightly shocked at my string bikini! Many Tajik girls and women, if they do swim, would be fully clothed.
However, what ever they might wear in the water, one thing is definite: a girl must be a virgin when she marries. In the villages they still show the bloody sheet after the first night to show that the bride has been a good girl. Z is worried about her friend, whether she has been ‘good’ or not. The prospective sister-in-law paid Z a visit to try and find this out from her as Z is one of her best friends, and also the equivalent of the bridesmaid for the forthcoming wedding. Z told the prospective sister-in-law that it was nothing to do with either of them.
P describes her grandfather as being like an Afghan man. Because the family lived in the village, near Kurgan Tepe, in southern Tajikistan, it was easy enough for him to keep his daughter out of school, even during Soviet times. If they had lived in the city it would have been more difficult. Teachers did come round to try and get the grandfather to let his daughter attend school, but he was known for being a hard and angry man, and the eventually the teachers gave up.
S’s mother died when she herself was only three or four, and her father took new wife who was also horrible to her. She ended up being a cleaner at the university – which was a good job then paying a living wage, (although no longer today).
P’s mother got married, but her husband (P’s father) died at the early age of 23, after which she took another husband. Even if she had not wanted to, it would have been very difficult for her to live on her own. P underlines what a very hard life her mother had. She apologises for telling me a sad story.
However, P got a university education, getting a Tajik language diploma, a leap forward indeed from her own mother’s education. She would like to return to work teaching at the Lycee perhaps, but this depends on her husband. He has said that maybe when her youngest child is 14, in two years’ time, she will no longer need her mother so much and P may go to work.
Talking to many Tajik women they told me how women are expected to leave work when they get married, which indeed is what often took place in the United Kingdom only 50 years ago. Most women, it seems, according to one woman I spoke to, are happy to do this. My friend, N thinks in Dushanbe maybe 60% of women give up their jobs on marriage but in Kurgan Tepe over 80% do. This is because the southern city is more conservative. There is also a higher level of education in the capital.
Staying with P, I got into the rhythm of family life, discovering that naps after lunch are quite the done thing. Women who are housewives and their children returning from school, curl up on their mattresses in the corner for an hour or so. I was considered slightly strange for managing a whole day without a nap! Women at home are grabbing a well -deserved moment for themselves, a moment to indulge their daydreaming. They are often first to rise and in the evening they are busy cooking, serving and generally looking after the rest of the family. I guess this also makes extra sense in the summer, when the sultry days mean that getting up earlier when it is cooler is preferable.
P is wondering about getting a washing machine, which her husband could afford, having a well-paid job; unlike the majority of Tajik women who wash clothes by hand, for whom the cost would be prohibitive. But, she says that “The clothes washing for a family of four keeps me thin, as its high energy work, and there is so much of it”. She often wondered about the slim women on TV and grabbed her flesh, wondering how she could be like them. I told her that these women would work out at the gym many times a week. P hardly ever left the flat and eating, it seemed, was one of the few pleasures she could indulge in easily.
She told me that the bikinis being worn by the Miss World programme were bad, but that didn’t stop the family sitting down and watching the event! Tajiks are used to Russian television with its female flesh on show, so as long as it wasn’t their daughters perhaps, they didn’t mind watching a bit of ‘saucy’ family entertainment!
N said that her father did not mind her wearing a bikini in a swimming pool, and would wear it in front of him but this is unusual, I think. I remember even my own (Western, but traditional) father being slightly shocked at my string bikini! Many Tajik girls and women, if they do swim, would be fully clothed.
However, what ever they might wear in the water, one thing is definite: a girl must be a virgin when she marries. In the villages they still show the bloody sheet after the first night to show that the bride has been a good girl. Z is worried about her friend, whether she has been ‘good’ or not. The prospective sister-in-law paid Z a visit to try and find this out from her as Z is one of her best friends, and also the equivalent of the bridesmaid for the forthcoming wedding. Z told the prospective sister-in-law that it was nothing to do with either of them.
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