Going back
There has been a big change over the years in the questions I get asked about my being here in Kyrgyzstan. The main question that I used to be asked was how I came to end up here, in small, remote, country, so far from home. In recent times, however, the question I seem to face most is: “When are you leaving?”
It’s not always put as bluntly as that … but that is the underlying theme behind the comments and questions in the discussion.
I think that the first time I faced the question was back in 2005, after the Tulip Revolution. At that time I replied with another question: “Why should I want to leave?”
I faced the same question, for example, following the attempted robbery in my office last March in which I got beaten up. Once again, I replied with another question: “Why should I want to leave?”
Following the Easter Revolution in April 2010, when more than eight people died in overturning the government of President Bakiev, the question raised it’s ugly head once more above the parapet. People have been surprised when I replied with another question: “Why should I want to leave?”
My reply usually elicits another question … “Surely there are things you miss about home?”.
This time, I normally point out that I am home … this is now my home.
In Russian, the word “Dom” means both “house” and “home”. When it is used to refer to a building, it normally means “house”, as in Dom Pravitelstvo – Government House – but when it is used to mean “home” it can refer simply to the place where you are staying, where you “lay your weary head”. Once, for example, a friend of mine took his family to Moscow for a holiday and after an exhausting day of sightseeing, his son turned round and complained that he was tired and wanted to go home. “You want to go back to Bishkek?”, his father asked incredulously. “No, to the hotel,” was the boys curt reply.
Well, Bishkek is where I “lay my weary head” … it is my home.
Of course, I am merely dodging the question. Yes, there are things I do miss about England … things like Marmite and Branston Pickle; Just a Minute and re-runs of “Yes, Minister”; my family and friends; rugby and teaching (yes, honestly), … but that doesn’t mean I yearn to go back. I live in the present … here and now.
The other day I received an e-mail with a link to a report about modern Kashgar, which is just over the border from here, in China. The author had added a one line comment: “If you have visited Kashgar in the past, don’t plan on going back.”
As it happens, I am not sure I agree with him. The report made me think that it would be worth going back … just to see the differences between then and no, to compare “what was” with “what is”.
Let’s face it, places change over a period time, people change too. Sometimes for the better, sometimes not. It is what’s called “progress”, although he obviously thought that this was questionable.
The email reminded me of when I used to go back to Malvern to visit my mother, when she was alive. Several months would have passed between visits and, apart from the fact that the seasons would have changed, I was always intrigued to see what else had changed. It was like seeing an old friend for the first time after a long absence … you can see changes in them that people who see them everyday wouldn’t. Some changes are gradual and “creep up” and only really become noticeable when their cumulative effect is brought to your attention for some reason … such as when you look at an old photograph of them.
On one occasion I was talking with a friend, looking at some old photos and the conversation turned to places around Kyrgyzstan that I have visited. Then the conversation widened to places around the world. We reminisced and compared notes, especially about places where we had both visited. What had he liked most? … What had I liked most?
I could say nothing about Beijing or Warsaw, as I have never been there … and practically nothing about Sydney, because I’ve only seen it from the air, but I can at least say that I have seen the Harbour Bridge and the Opera House. He could say nothing about Cannes, or Cardiff … you will have gathered from this that he has travelled far more than I have, although I could have said Chichen Itza.
When it came to “Which, of all the places you have visited, is your favourite?”, you might think that I ought to have replied somewhere in Kyrgyzstan, for example, Tash Rabat. This was some years ago, however, and at that time I replied Vienna. If you were to ask me today, I might well say Tash Rabat. It is certainly one of my favourite places in Kyrgyzstan.
The next question was where would I like to go back to … and I had to think hard about that … and eventually I proffered “probably everywhere.”
This elicited a look of amazement … but that was not the reaction I was expecting. I thought that he would complain that this was not a fair answer … that I was not “playing by the rules of the game”, whatever “game” we were playing … that I had to choose one destination … if I had the chance to return to one place, and just one place, then which would it be?
Instead I was greeted by, “Really, would you want to go back to ****?,”, (for obvious reasons, I don’t want to name the place … but I do assure you that is wasn’t in Kyrgyzstan! … I think that I can tell you it was a Caribbean island …), “it was a dump, dirty and the people were rude. You were there at the time,” (… that’s true, as it happens, we were on the same trip …), “surely you remember, surely you wouldn’t want to go back there!”.
“Actually,” I assured him, “yes, I would.” It’s true that the port was a dump, but a lot of ports are … there were slums, shanty towns, that were also an unpleasant experience, but that’s true in other places as well … it is also true that some of the people were rude, but I don’t think I felt threatened in any way … on the other hand, the national park was pleasant, green and very picturesque …and it would be interesting to see how things have changed.
Yes, I would like to go back to Kashgar … even if it has changed beyond recognition … or for the worse – which is a value judgment in itself – whose to say if it is for the worse or not? – I am sure that at least some of the locals would say that the changes have brought improvements for them.
Bishkek