Thoughts on Kyrgyz Violence

The violence in Kyrgyzstan is depressing, discouraging, and worrisome to me. I am constantly checking the news and searching for more pictures and video. It just hurts me so much to think about my Central Asian friends and their families, their languages and cultures and customs and rituals... to think about them in this context of violence.

The countries of Central Asia each have their own distinct culture, history, and language. After gaining independence from the Soviet Union around 1990, Kazakhstan, Uzbekistan, Kyrgyzstan, Turkmenistan, and Tajikistan have had minor clashes. Ethnic problems are at the top of the list since people of each country's ethnic group live in the other countries- like the ethnic Uzbeks living in Kyrgyzstan who are being killed every day. With no explanation. Sure, Uzbekistan is a double-landlocked country with an overflowing population, but it's implausible for them to want to or try to take over Kyrgyzstan. I feel like these countries should be in this together. After suffering under the Soviets, they all became free and in control of their own livelihoods. They should be celebrating.

I clearly remember, right after the international festival at Lanzhou University last fall, my friends told me about when they were young children and their families were poor. Their parents worked tirelessly, and it was for nothing (well, it was for Russia). After they became free, life was so much better and happier. The countries celebrated their uniqueness and nationalism was encouraged.

But maybe it is backfiring now, all that nationalism. It reminds me of my post from December of 2009 about the fight in my dorm building. There is such a fine line there between respect and pride.

And, to conclude this jumbled post, on days like today I take a step back and look at how much my life has changed. I used to get upset and riled up about completely normal things. And now my heart pounds as I read news about Kyrgyzstan, and I have no one to discuss it with. I cry when I hear about Uzbeks' houses being burnt and women and children fleeing to the border, and there is no one there to share the pain I feel. Wouldn't my life be a lot simpler if I had never gone to China and met wonderful people who taught me about all these cultures? It's times like these that for fleeting moments I wish I was "normal" and didn't have these painful burdens from what I have learned and grown to care about. I got into a debate in class once about learning- that it's not always a good thing, that learning can be detrimental. My classmates thought I was off my rocker, and, you know what, I am.

Man sizni sevaman.