If the Mountains Won't Come to Ryan...

Then Ryan must go to the Mountains.

And so he has.

In what I thought was going to be a multiple-hour car ride into the heart of the monstrous Alatau Mountains immediately to the South of Bishkek, I was in for more than a few pleasant surprises.

For my first real weekend in Bishkek, I was invited to go "to the mountains" by my co-worker Nadyr. I flatter myself by calling him my co-worker. Nadyr is an extremely accomplished Kyrgyz journalist, himself a graduate of the prestigious Moscow State University and a former Press Secretary for the Republic of Kyrgyzstan. He now runs the entire Russian-language side of Radio Azattyk - whereas the staff of 30 runs the Kyrgyz-language side, he is responsible for translating, writing, or finding stories which will be of interest to the Russian-speaking population. He is a one-man media source.

It should be no surprise that he's hella-smart, too.

The only difficulty between myself and Nadyr is that, having spent his entire life becoming an expert on Russian media, he speaks only a little English. I want to be clear: Nadyr speaks 3000 times more English than I speak either Kyrgyz or Russian, so I am not complaining. I just mention this fact to explain why Nadyr invited along his 20(something) son, Timek, for the excursion.

Timek speaks very good English (after only 1 year of study, a fact I still have difficulty believing). He is a law student at the American University of Central Asia, located in Bishkek. He was formerly a professional tennis player, and is now, I think, still an amateur boxer.

I met the two of them at their apartment, just a short ways south of the Radio Azattyk offices in downtown Bishkek. We got in Nadyr's Mercedes and started off.

Instead of a long car ride into the upper atmosphere, I was quite surprised when after about 10 minutes, Nadyr pulled off the main road and wound his way through a suburb south of town. We eventually parked alongside a modest white house, and got out.

Apparently, we were meeting up with some of his friends before proceeding.

Ok, no biggie.

The friends in question were quite a colorful lot: Janek is an accomplished surgeon, and his two sons (8 and 11) are respectively learning Chinese and Judo. Hassan is a professional Greco-Roman wrestler, and could probably snap me in two with his left hand, but instead usually cracked me up with his whimsical smile. Hassan's wife, Tamara, also accompanied us, outiftted as for a walk on the beach.

The most surprising moment was when we left the house, came to the car, and just kept walking. Apparently, this was as far as the car was going, and I was still practically within sight of downtown Bishkek.

Being a native Oklahoman, an adopted Texan/New Yorker, mountains are not something which which I have much experience. I've been to Boulder/Denver, but the most "mountaineous" town I can recall explicitly was Monterrey, Mexico. There, the town is built into several joining valleys, and the city has climbed up and consumed the mountains around it. Not so in Bishkek. Here, the slightest elevation change marked the absolute boundary of man-made architecture. This was partially due to the sudden, and very steep slope, with which the foothills suddenly spring up from the plain.

I am woefully underqualified to explain the geology of this place, but for whatever reason the mountains soar to such heights, I can say that nature seemed impatient to reach them.

A couple interesting things happened as soon as we were "on the mountain." For one thing, the concept of shade evaporated. I've made frequent mention of how many trees Bishkek has. It is a defining element of the city - they are freakin' everywhere, and usually in very thick abundance. In the foothills, I did not see one single tree. In fact, I didn't even see anything that could count as underbrush. When the ground went up, any vegetation over 18" tall disappeared. But it was still vibrantly green. At frist, mostly small grass, weeds, even some prickly bushes, but as we reached the first (of many consucutive) peak(s), this transitioned into the long grasses I know from Oklahoma. The kind that are green when you look at them upclose, but which shimmer in shades of white and silver as the wind curles across them in waves. If Oklahoma had mountains, I'm sure they would look something like this.

We continued hiking up for a few hours; each "peak" revealing itself to only be the crest of the next level in the neverending ascent. Each was a step to the next, and while some opportunities existed to peek (:-P) around the side of a hill to see the chain that lay before us, on and on up into the jagged white airs, for the most part the grade of the hills prevented one from seeing anything but the grass, or occasionally trail, in front of him. It wasn't long before we were hiking along ridges, sheer cliffs to at least one side, the snow-carved runoff valleys sweeping away below up.

We never made it to snow-pack, or anything that impressive. I'm no judge of altitude, but it was a solid 6-7 mile trek round trip (see Bishkek Googlemap), and my legs were certainly aware of it the next day.

While we were out, we met one or two shepards (young boys) with their small flocks, one stubborn herd of cows, and one or two joggers - American's from the nearby US Embassy, hell bent on self-destruction.

One interesting observation that Hassan passed along, in his usual comic (and strictly Kyrgyz) way, was to alert me that, upon achieving one particular peak overlooking a nice series of villas, that I was now being watched by snipers. The villas belonged to President Bakiev - his stately residence - and for "security" reasons they had military forces constantly surveiling the surrounding hillsides and tracking any potential threats. No one else seemed the least concerned by this, and after a time I just tried to ignore it, but I'm not yet accustomed to the idea of universal surveillance, even as a regular target of it in New York or London. To have such surveillance conducted not by a mindless camera, but by an armed sniper... was uncomfortable. Then again, I didn't feel great when I saw the M-16 carrying national guard troops at the San Antonio airport either. It's a disperity of force that is unavoidable as a puny little (unarmed, untrained) civilian, but I don't like being reminded of it.

It was otherwise a beautiful day to be out. Not very hot, a good cool breeze, and no rain. Perhaps a hat or some of the sunscreen (I left at the Apt) would have been a good idea. I'll be paying for the sunburn for the next week, I suppose. Worth it.

The pictures of course won't do justice to what there was to see, and I do hope to get a bit deeper into the more "alpine" regions another time. I can only imagine the beauties that my many friends have encountered in exploring, for example, the Kiwi lands down under. I can say only this - it would not have seemed unfathomable for an amry of Orcs, or even the Rhohirrim, to swarm over the steep pastures we walked along.

So let's call this Adventure #2 (following Mr. Vice Speaker - the American Financio-Scholar wasn't particularly adventurous), and I'll go soak myself in a vat of Aloe.

As we would say in Weberville, it looks like Lobster's on the menu tonight.

Weber (on the lamb)

Bishkek Basics, vol. 1

One of the reasons I keep writing larger "theory" blog posts is because, in order to describe what I'm actually doing requires a lot of background explanation in order to make sense.

However, since the purpose of this blog is to 1) keep friends and family apprised of my travels and experiences, and 2) to inform/educate my friends and family about Kyrgyzstan, Bishkek, and Central Asia generally, I suppose some background is in order.

If you really want a fully-rounded understanding in textual form, I suggest you delve into one of only a handful of good textbooks that cover it - I'd recommend those by Rafis Abazov, for example.

Instead, I will offer here, in an indeterminate number of volumes, a few important observations or descriptions which will hopefully help you form in your mind a "virtual Bishkek" in which the various dramas and narratives of this blog may take place. For a cartographic reference, see my evolving Bishkek googlemap.

Again, this is neither encyclopedic in its completeness or organization - essentially I am just vomitting up details as they occur to me. Tasty stuff.

First, keep in mind that I have thus far only seen, and can therefore only speak about, Bishkek. It is the biggest city in Kyrgyzstan, and probably the only "metropolitan" one. Further, not only is Bishkek unique within Kyrgyzstan, it is (from what I've been told) radically different in layout, society, and many other details from virtually every other city in Central Asia (maybe Astana or Almaty as the exceptions). While I am trying to speak with some force to set the observations I've had into your mind, please accept that I am doing this aware of Serious limitations, and with the full expectation that much of what I now report may need clarification, or complete revision.

Disclaimers aside, I will now assert one thing definitively: Bishkek is flat. Like, Oklahoma flat.

The country of Kyrgyzstan, on the other hand, is 90% mountainous - not like "hilly," but like Tian Shan "roof of the world" mountainous. Bishkek lies to the direct south of the Alatau, a related mountain chain, its outskirts abutting the foothills that quickly transform into snow-capped peaks some 5 to 9 thousand kms higher.

As a flat city with few natural barriers, and as a city founded in the 19th century, it is laid out on a strict grid system, again much like Oklahoma (City). The streets are wide and heavily-used,

and every main thoroughfair is bordered by equally well-paved, and often shaded, sidewalks. The smaller streets have smaller sidewalks, and feel more like walking through an oddly-paved forest (see picture). The city maintains its (tens of) thousands of trees through a simple irrigation ditch system that doubles as city-wide flood control. One last herbonomic observation - though not named this to my knowledge, Bishkek is The City of Roses. They're everywhere, and grow in huge patches in every park, and alongside most government structures. As a result, walking in the park at sunset smells like Valentines day in America.

The buildings tend to be of cinderblock construction, but display the full variety of elegance and stoicness (stoicocity?) possible from such humble beginnings. Only the enormous soviet-style government buildings have more distinct architecture, and this is of a universally grand, geometic, but light gray variety. There are no "ancient" structures of any kind, any where.

The cars are mosty German (Audio, VW, BMW) or Japanese (Honda, Mazda, Toyota), with a few carry-over Russian Lada's (which make a VW bug obsession look tepid - to love a Lada is a true labor of romanticism). Public transport consists of electric-powered trolleybuses (about 20 cents/ride) on the main drags, modern buses, and a small armada of minibuses on regular but unposted routes and swarms of taxis - who take you anywhere in the city for approx $2.50 US.

Currency is the Som ($1= 43 som), though for larger purchases (cars, furniture, etc) US dollars are preferred. The bills come in denominations as small as 1 som (approx. 2 cents), with coins in the 1/2 som, 1 som, and 5 som value. Basically, it's all paper-based.

The city's infrastructure is fully functional and up to Western standards (running water, electricity, sewage, flushies, etc), though I have my suspicions about just how "modern" the system is that keeps it all running. Still, it must be admitted, it does keep running.

Broadband internet is commercially available, and supplied to office buildings and a decent % of the shops that serve as Internet cafes, though the latter term is loose, catering to videogamming teenagers and working professionals. For residential use, dial-up seems to be the only option for those of less-than-truly-extravagant means.

In addition to internet stations, Bishkek has plenty of pharmacies (Apteka's), though they're more like the CVS/D-R you'll find in New York than a traditional corner drug store. Boutiques are also very popular, though I'll address Bishkek fashion later. There are larger stores, including one of two "malls," though it's a hard comparison. Adidas, UC Beneton, and several high-caliber Euro brands have also setup shop, but these aren't widespread. The majority of the businesses are small, family-owned shops either resale or occasionally of local manufacture. Mostly I see goods stores (food or clothing) more than services, but that's pretty arbitrary. On the sidwalk are countless additional "hut shops" setup to quickly vend drinks, snacks, magazines & cigarettes. Also, cell-phone refill stations are Everywhere!

Bishkek has a population of 1 million people, about 10-20% arrived from the rural areas since 1991; they have largely established "suburbs" along the outskirts of Bishkek in which they continue living, "the village lifestyle within city limits" as a colleage explained it. Of the 1 million, about 30% are ethnic Russians (whatever that means), and their presence in Bishkek is practically the exclusive enclave of Russians anywhere in Kyrgyzstan. As a result of this strong presence, and the long history of Russian colonial, and then Soviet, domination, the primary language is still Russian, though this has already shifted dramatically as English, Chinese, French or German replaced Russian as the preferred 2nd language in the 1990s. Still, it is expected for Russian to be understood by one and all within Bishkek, while Russians are generally not expected to understand spoken Kyrgyz.

Interestingly, to run for President of Kyrgyzstan, you must demonstrate your Kyrgyz language skills by passing a series of televised tests, each of which alternately serves to allow the candidates to pre-speech their platform (in Kyrgyz) in the course of proving fluency. It should be noted, about 1/2 of all applicants fail this rigorous language test.

In addition to the strong Russian cultural influence, Bishkek also has pockets of inhabitants from India, Iran, China and the other Central Asian Republics (mostly Uzbeks/Kazakhs), which leave a mark on the overall social network.

Islam in Kyrgyzstan is a hard thing to put one's finger on, and in Bishkek it may be even more elusive. It is generally accepted that Turkey is a valid example of a "secular Islamic" state, in that it is somehow both "fully secular" in its governance, but also "fully Muslim" in its society. That's a dicey argument, but consider this: If flying from Riyadh to Istanbul demonstrates just how secular Istanbul is, then flying from Istanbul to Bishkek is an equivalent experience. Simplistic markers like veils or beards are almost totally absent, but more valid suggestions of a non-traditional Islamic presence are also available. There remain only a small number of mosques in town - especially when compared with Istanbul or the Middle East - and the adherence of daily prayes, or the Ramadan fast is rather rare. Still, I've been told that most non-Russians in Bishkek do identify themselves as Muslim, and as I'm in no position to define their religious beliefs for them, I accept that they practice a variet of Islam for which I have few parallels outside the comparison to American Christianity vis Christianity in, for example, Greece. Rather than a connection between self, faith and community that necessarily intersects ritual and the physical church several times every day, it seems (emphasis) that Islam in

Bishkek is something to which everyone ascribes as a matter of personal faith rather than communal identity or ritual.

I could go on-and-on with this topic, but my scant knowledge suggests moving on would be the wiser course.

I mentioned earlier the idea of fashion, and as I am no Michael Kors myself, let me just state it thusly: Russians seem to dress like Eurotrash, which Kyrgyz (especially the women) out-chic even the NYC crowd. I understand that's quite a statement, but I stand by it. Whereas Eurotrash tries to be outrageous, it often comes off as cheap, blunt, or even skanky. Kyrgyz fashonistas (and this isn't everyone, but does claim a high % of 20-40 somethings) are very intelligent and refined in their distinctiveness. I would emphasize that they are Not copying Western high fashion, but rather - dare I say - improving upon it. It's the same language - aesthetic lines, fabrics, patterns, cuts, body shape, heels, etc. - they just speak it very fluently.

I have been speaking here about Bishkek as an anomaly within Kyrgyzstan, and perhaps Central Asia. I want to address one point which, as I understand it, is more universal.

First, please understand that until the 18th century, the peoples of Central Asia were not all identical, but could certainly claim to be more alike than different, and definitely claimed access to the same cultural heritage. Since the demarkation of Central Asia by Russian (and then Soviet) administrative policies, the once closely-associated cultures have begun to differentiate. First it was the creation of written languages to prove that Kazakh was not Kyrgyz (even though they differ only in some vocabulary), then local heroes - once considered universally "Central Asian" - were retroactively assigned to one "nationality" or another. The artificial creation of the 5 central asian groups (and their many subgroups) was a tremendous project of Soviet ethnography on parallel with the British and French efforts to create a genetic color-scale of their colonial subjects. It warrants several more long, boring posts, but I'll spare you for now.

Instead, I'll end Bishkek Basics (vol 1) with this light note:

The social trait I have noticed in Bishkek, which I believe transcends all the terminologies and "westernization" or "Russification" of the past 200 years is a profound fascination - even bordering on obsession - with children.

As always, speaking in generalizations is dangerous, but I have noticed that when a child - especially a baby - is present, that odd little creature and its antics become the absolute center of the immediately-surrounding universe. Teenagers and business people alike stop what they're doing to oogle over a stranger's child, and entire families will occupy themselves with the entertainment of a toddler.

It contrasts strongly with my general American perspective, in which I'm sure we love our children no less, but we cannot help thinking of them as a regular distraction, and an occasional nuisance. Or even more starkly, the New York penchant for nannies. The Kyrgyz I've spoken to on the subject were horrified at the concept of being too busy to take care of their own child - regardless of whether both parents worked or not.

The above photo was taken on June 1, International Childrens Day, in the main Paniflov park, when practially every kid in Bishkek swarmed downtown for a variety of festivals, rides, etc. I explained to my co-worker that we didn't celebrate this holiday in America, and he was genuinely shocked. That, I think, is interesting.

Having now completed vol.1 of this laborious process of background, and perhaps not accomplishing so much in the process, I am at least now free to proceed with the less intellectual, but I'm sure more interesting, postings about what I've actually been doing within the world described above.

I do hope you'll forgive my method, and provide all the feedback the little comments form allows.

Weber(on the lamb)

The Myth of Europe

Given that most of you are reading this to follow my person experiences abroad, rather than to engage in historic debate or, worse yet, suffer through political diatribes, I will try, when the impulse to rended such a post is irressitable, to at least keep them to a more manageable length.

Obviously, if no one feels compelled to read this blog, it's not very useful.

So please allow me to present for you a concept - as briefly as possible - for which my academic studies and present experiences are in concert, and with which I think you might enjoy a new outlook on a variety of subjects.

There is no such thing as "Europe," and there never has been.

Geographically, Europe was awarded the status of a "continent" for political, rather than cartographic or geologic reasons. The borders of the so-called "Europe" are technically the Ural mountains, which run East of the Caspian sea, approximate with the interior of Iran, and somewhere in the South Caucasus mountains, again bordering Iran after circumnavigating Turkey. This definition is the continental divide - the line that demarkates which direction water will flow - but the logic required to separate Europe and Asia thus requires every continent be split into 2 - with California, Washington & Oregon now part of North-West America, and the rest of the US on the continent of Nort-East America.

In actuality, "Europe" is nothing more than a rather small peninsula affixed to the NW corner of the greater Eurasian landmass, of which India - by virtual of actual geology - has more claim to independence than Europe, despits its rather imperial designation as the world's only "subcontinent."

Exercise #1 - Try putting your finger on the "middle" of Europe. You might think Switzerland, or Prague? Actually, it would be in the Ukraine.

Politically, of course, we can think of Europe as those countries in the European Union, but that would be ridiculous, as by parallel that would also exclude Canada and Mexico from North America.

Culturally, "Europe" is an even more subjective reality. Take for example the case of Georgia, which by any geographic definition must be part of Europe. While the people of Georgia consider themselves to be fully European, especially by their predominant Christian faith, the same label is not applied to Georgians by their so-called co-Continentals.

It's hard to say what makes "Europe" so "European." Certainly it is a complex mixture of social history, political and economic contact, and yes, cultural markers like religion, language and art. There is also a not insubstantial racial element to our modern understanding of Europe, which is not substantiated by actual reality. Put simply, not all "Europeans" are "Caucasian/White," no matter how broadly we choose to paint the term (Consider the Moors, the Balkans, even the Hungarians).

It has also been expressed that to be "European" is to be a direct beneficiary of the monumental events of the 14-17th centuries which supposedly shaped what we conceive of as modernity, specifically the Renaissance/Enlightenment, Political Liberalism, the Reformation, and eventually, the Industrial Revolution. To be "European" is to claim not only to be the torch-bearers of an intellectual tradition stretching back to the (partially-"European") empires of Rome and Greece, but in fact to make such a claim as the Exclusive inheritors of this line.

That the "Continent" was itself a dark place of no considerable contribution to this "Western" civilization until at least the 14th century (a gap of, say 2,000 years at least), or that it's eventual discovery of "its own" intellectual heritage was made possible only through the intermediary of other - mostly Arab, Persian and African - translations and commentaries is somehow overlooked. Imagine reading the Cribb Notes of Shakespeare's Hamlet, then claiming the original to have been written by your grandfather. Would you expect royalties?

Exercise #2 - Start as far West as Europe allows (Portugal, Spain, England, France), and start naming countries as you move East. See how far you get when listing off "European" countries you know. When this fails, consult a map, and then check to see how "European" you still consider wherever you got stumped.

A last demonstration, the aforementioned Industrial Revolution, hailed as the great Triump of Europe, which in fact only took place in England, and was later exported to France and Germany. It's arrival in Italy, Romania, and "European" Russia was barely ahead of its implementation in India, and far behind Japan or America.

Further, as you proceed East, you fill find cultures competing to assert their "European-ness" by their link to Orthodox (sometimes called "Eastern Orthodox") Christianity, on the assumption that Istanbul was, for a time, the navel of Europe, not Rome. With Orthodoxy come the Slavs and Russia, which following its territorial conquests of the 17-18th centuries must include, culturally, all of Siberia in a concept of "European," just as New Mexico is no longer "Navajo," but "American."

If you've read this far, and accept even a slight majority of what I've presented, fear not, I've not much more to say, and I've only slightly more to ask of you.

There may be no "Europe" as a place or a people, but there certainly is a "Europe" as a term which can be used to separate, for purposes of inclusion or exclusion, one group of people, concepts or practices, from another.

What I would ask of you, the reader and presumably a thoughful and intelligent individual, is to contemplate why such a term was fashioned, and why it continues to have such weighty significance despite its demonstrable mendacity.

Obviously it's ideological, and equally clear is that it is most often used to the benefit of "Europeans," who use the concept to demonstrate their superiority in some way to the excluded Other, a practice which is not uniquely European. In fact, in an interesting twist, America has long used the term "European" to denigrate it as the Other to the American self-precetion of newness, freedom, youth, etc.

Why do I go on-and-on about this? Because I'm in Bishkek, which by no definition that I know - cultural, geographic, political, linguistic, religious - can be construed as "European."

However, when I tell my friends that I'm going to Kyrgyzstan for the summer, the most common response I received - no offense buddies - was, "have fun in Europe."

Much to their credit, my friends all meant well, and further they are - every single one of them - bright, well-informed, open-minded people, almost entirely Americans, but most with some experience of worldly travel themselves.

So there are a few things I find interesting here:

1. Out of what I assume to be geographic ignorance, educated Americans assume Kyrgyzstan to be somewhere in "Europe" for reasons I, and possibly even then, don't understand.
2. By every definition I can imagine, Kyrgyzstan has no place in a roster of "European" capitals. And yet...
3. Living in Bishkek, I still feel unquestionably immersed in the "Western/European world," insofar as this is understood to be only a concept.

It might be fair to say that Kyrgyzstan - or at least Bishkek - are not "European" or "Western," but rather have been "Westernized." While I don't (quite) question the truth of the underlying assertion - the Kygyz culture (itself a Russian invention via categorization) has been changed largely by outside forces to more closely resemble the concept of "Europe / the West" - I do take offense at the idea of "Westernization" on the same grounds that I reject the myth of "Europe."

If France, Germany and Britain, the key-3 of the "Europe" identity, were themselves "Westernized" by the teachings of Plato, Ibn Sina, al-Ghazali, Heraclitus, and a wealth of Persian scholars, not to mention the fundamental roots of the Industrial Revolution in Indian hydraulic sciences, how is this in any way "Westernization?"

Isn't Bishkek just a part of the same process of cultural, intellectual, and material exchange that has shaped every non-isolated society on Earth? Since there is clearly no such thing as a neatly-defined Europe," the broader idea of "the West" as opposed to "The East" (universally applied to anything non-Western, and totally ignoring the possibility, for example, of the Global South (Africa, S. America, Pacifica) ) must be even more nonsensical.

Was America "Easternized" by the original migration across the Beiring straight? What about Democracy - a concept spawned (to a very limited extent) in the Eastern Mediterranean through a heritage of Anatolian transfers? Or Christianity? Aren't all major world religions, in fact, non-European and therefore "Eastern?"

I'm not suggesting we truncate the formal name to just the ____ Union, or that the idea of "Europe" is going away anytime soon, despite its preposterous construction.

What I'm suggesting is that we, as discerning individuals, be cautious in our use of the term "Europe" and all the baggage it entails, and that we be especially attentative to the motivations and assumptions employed by those who use "Europe" to describe or justify certain ideas, people, or practices.

So in answer to the friendly salutation I have so often received, "have fun in Europe," I must enigmatically respond, "but I've never been to Europe - - or perhaps I've neer left?"

Weber (on the lamb)

Horse Wrestling

The picture, of a characteristically over-sized statue in front of the Bishkek Palace of Sport (state gym complex), is not entirely accurate. There is a sport in Kyrgyzstan called Oodarysh, which involves two men westling eachother while on horseback, the victor being the first to dismount the other. In point of fact, most sports in Kyrgyzstan (aside from the ubiquitous football) seem to involve being on a horse. Some are straight-up horse races, though usually over long distances rather than circular tracks, while others are games of skill, involving obstacle courses and marksmanship. One is described as a mixture between Rugy and Polo, with the added twist that it is played not with tanned animal skin stuffed with cotton (like football), but instead with the decapitated carcas of a goat (they do pull out all the innards first). The lack of symbolic transferrance in this case is hard to ignore - Why not a rubber goat carcass, for example?

Anyway, the point is that no Kyrgyz athlete regularly hefts their steed upon their shoulders. But what an image! In a society where being on horseback is the default location for virtually every activity except sleeping and eating, the myth of a great warrior lifting his horse onto his back is a complex testament of strength and a radical reversal of social norms.

And that, oddly enough, brings me to the actual topic of this post: "Modern Central Asia transition to independence: the impact of alternative traditions," a lecture by Carter W. Page, a US investment banker-cum-academic, I attened at the American University of Central Asia. The office sent me to check it out, but to be honest it was more an effort to keep me busy than an actual journalistic assignment.

Mr. Page has spent most of his career working for Merryl Lynch and coordinating their assessments of investment opportunities in Russia and Central Asia. Again, follow the coded language. "Investment opportunities" equals "Energy Development." "Energy Development" equals "Oil and Gas exploration and export."

So this is a gentleman who has advised companies on which projects, governments, etc. they would have the best chance of procuring beneficial returns on their investments to the tune of around $15 billion. That's his personal involvement, it represents only a small fraction of the overall "energy" investment in the region.

Now Mr. Page has given up the financial sector (well, partially, he's still a consultant for corporations curious about getting started in CA), and decided to become an academic. While he pursues his Ph.D. at the London School of Oriental and African Studies (a very prestigious institution despite its archaically offensive name), he is conducting research and giving presentations to scholars and businessmen about what, in his opinion, differentiates development planning in Central Asia from other regions.

He talked for 30 minutes, answered questions for 30 minutes, and after an hour had bascially achieved nothing. Here's the gist of his argument:

Central Asia is "different" (from what he didn't specify. Isn't every place "different" in some way?). Further, since the breakup of the Soviet Union, each of the 5 Central Asian republics has diverged, forging unique policies and international relations. As a result, it is getting more difficult to make general statements about "Central Asia" (great point) - so here is my general statement about why Central Asia is "different" - they have "alternative traditions."

(I'm not making this up. The next part gets so ridiculous, that I'll hold my comments to the end.)

The first of these is the "Silk Road Tradition," which demonstrates the natural proclivity of Central Asians for international trade, their inherent entrepenurialism, innovation, flexibility, hard work, and individualism. Since the days of the Silk Road "a thousand years ago," the most significant change is the speed of international commerce - it's gotten faster.

The other tradition is that of the Soviet Union, which despite its demonization by "other Western scholars," has an important legacy in the "traditions" of commerce in modern Central Asia. (these weren't discussed in detail, though one assumes he is referring to the 5 Year Plans of the early Soviet period, the communal ownership of business, the forced collectivization of agriculture into Kolhozes, the entire transportation network - still in use, and the creation of the 5 recognized nationalities, an artificial project that including the synthesis of written languages, national borders, and as much repression of Islam and other religions as possible, etc.)

The heart of his analysis concerned the degree to which individual countries in Cenral Asia accepted a "Liberal Economic" versus a "Centralized Control" policy in regard to their domestic and international trade. A "Liberal-Domestic" position being that of total privatization, while "Central Domestic" is total nationalization. "Liberal International" would be Globalization, while "Central International" is "State Sovereignty," a confusing term he did not elaborate upon.

To backup his analysis, Mr. Page referenced the useful academic tools of Wallerstein's theory of World-Systems Analysis and Braudel's Longue-Duree, though I dare say each rolled over a bit in the grave (apologies to Wallerstein, still alive) at the injustice. WSA is based on considering multiple (perhaps even all) disciplines when making judgements about a cultural group, and is inherently anti-Globalization in its enforced respect for individual cultures and the disdain for manipulation thereof. Braudel's argument with historians, for which he founded the new theory, is that when considering matters of human civilization, it is pointless to look at events and short periods of time because only the larger arc of social progress eliminates inconsistencies. For Braudel, the question is the development of Capitalism since the 15th century; the question of Global Capitalism since 1920, much less globalization in Central Asia since 1991, is meaningless.

Sadly, the misapplication of these two well-known (within academic circles) theories is only one of the many weaknesses in Mr. Page's lecture. He referred regularly to his "research," but it is hard to imagine what, exactly, he's been researching to arrive at points which are so bland, and historical facts which are simply incorrect.

The origin of the Silk Road, for example, is very hard to nail down, mostly because the term is itself largely meaningless. Some silk trade existed with China even in ancient Egypt, but as conceived today as "a commercial network / trade route between China and Europe" it's hard to argue that the Silk Road ever existed. There were trade networks between China and Central Asia. Many of these connected to other routes between CA and Iran. From Iran, goods could proceed to Turkey, Iraq, or the Levant. From the Gulf, goods went to Egypt and East Africa. From the Levant and Turkey, goods could be shipped to Italy or Austria. No single individual was present for this entire route, and few participated in more than one leg. Each part could equally be said to be "the Silk Road." In other words, overland caravan trade across Central Asia was just as much the "Silk Road" as Italian shipping in the Mediterranean.

Yet I doubt Mr. Page would cite "The Silk Road" tradition as a foundational aspect of Italian, Iraqi, Austiran, Turkish, Iranian, or Egyptian modern business practices, much less that he could explain how the "Silke Road tradition" or Central Asia is so radically disimiliar from the "Silk Road Tradition" of everywhere else in the non-African/non-American world.

Add onto that further bad history - his use of the term "a thousand years ago," a figure he repeated often as it if was definitive, is ridiculous. Surely he isn't suggesting that the Silk Road was at its apex or origin in the year 1009! This term is used to denote "a long time ago," or more blunty, "since time eternal," effectively nullifying any possibility of, well... HISTORY.

It is hard to say when the "Silk Road" started, but we do have rough figures on the amount of goods transferred starting in the 12th century thanks to tarif records. What we know is that the amount of trade was in regular flux. Some periods of time saw more trade than others, and after the 16th century, trade dropped dramatically and has never since (until perhaps recent times) returned to its earlier levels, much less international importance. Some blame the "end of the Silk Road" to the growth of European-based maritime trade, though several respected scholars have disproven this. In fact, massive trade between China and Central Asia existed primarily- if not exclusively - during the periods in which one system of governance/ ruler was able to militarily dominate the majority of the trade route. In other words, the concept that the Silk Road was, at its heart, international, is itself counter-factual. Indeed, international borders, and especially the gaps between one strong power and another, were the weak links which regularly caused the Silk Road to shut down, sometimes for years, other times for generations. Brigandage and high tariffs were to blame, and only a power which could prevent them kept the trade flowing. In this way, the Silk Road as we conceive of it today was mostly a result of an economic phenomenon following in the tremendous Mongol conquests of the 10-14th centuries. Where Mongols conquered, the Silk Road followed. China, Central Asia, Iran, Iraq, Turkey.

So as to Mr. Page's real point: that International investment opportunities exist because the "Silk Road Tradition" in Central Asia means that "locals" are "inherently" open to international trade, this seems patently false on several points when considered in the light of actual history.

So I asked him about it directly.

The response: "While that may be true, I'm talking about the Social traditions, not the political or economic trends."

Right. So modern Kyrgyz and Kazakhs, who live in the semi-European capitals of Bishkek or Astana - cities which were built by Russians in the 19th and 20th centuries, who themselves speak either Russian or a language created by Russians, and who were forced to give up their "traditional" livelihood as nomads and instead lean European farming techniques before being forcibly relocated to collectived farms, all the while having their religious identity stripped from them by state persecution - those Kyrgyz and Kazakhs - are dictating the future of Central Asian commercial prospects because of their personal attachment to a "tradition" of "international capitalism" that may have existed to some degree back into pre-history, but which has demonstrably ceased to exist for the past 500 years.

Let's take a break.

OK.

So why have I subjected you to all of this?

We all know (or should know) that there are a lot of business (and political, and personal, etc) entities out there, and that often their interests are projected or protected by so-called "scholars" using the cloak of scholarship to mask their objectives. Not a shocker.

What's killing me is that Mr. Page isn't just an in-the-pocket academic (Director of the Bard Globalization & International Affairs Program; Former member of the Council on Foreign Relations, and $2,300 contributor to the John McCain campaign), in fact he's a late-comer to the academic racket. He was one of the big-business guys making the deals and on some level directing, or at least advising, huge policy decisions. After all the work he's done, and the experience he's had (diverting $15 billion), he still operates on the basis of demonstrably flawed logic. I don't know if it's malicious or ignorant, but either way I don't consider this to be an appropriate, ethical basis for (primarily) US economic policy abroad.

Do you?

What's most shocking is that, within the debate about how much consideration "localism" should be given when dictating economic policy to developing nations, Mr. Page is - as he himself professes - on the side of the "locals."

That's right. The above argument is actually the one offered In Defense of "local" rights.

Point: We should do whatever we want to make money.

Counterpoint: We should take (brief, inconsequential) account of local (fabricated/mythical) traditions in order to better take advantage of (exploit) local resources for our own gain (profit).

Seriously, if Mr. Page, and the hundreds of well-meaning, half-informed advocats like him, make up the counsel for the Defense, then I've got to scream Mis-trial.

And that's why fighting global capitalism with something as ridiculous as historical fact, intelligent consideration, or God-forbid local consideration, is like Horse Wrestling. It would require super-human strength, and turn our society's very system of commerce upside down.

And now I get off my podium/horse.

Weber (on the lamb)

Mi Ami Vice (Speaker)

It took 3 languages to make that pun work - and barely at that - so I hope you enjoyed it.

After the whiskey shot (see below) and a few hours at my desk working to let it wear off, I was grabbed by the shoulded by Bektash, an RFE correspondent who focuses on Kyrgyz politics and economic development. He asked if I wanted to meet the Vice-Speaker of the Kyrgyz Parliament. That simple.

I said, "um, sure?"

On the short taxi ride over (note: a Kyrgyz taxi is anyone who drives a car that isn't full. There are official taxis, but generally you can negotiate a ride around downtown bishkek with anyone moving in your general direction), Bektash explained to me the history of gold mining and precious mineral extraction in Kyrgyzstan, the topic of our upcoming interview. The subject: Kubanychbek Isabekov, Vice-Speaker of the Kyrgyz Parliament, and head of the committee on natural resources.

A brief word about resources in Kyrgyzstan.

Though not much discussed in American media, Central Asia is one of the several very large oil-producing regions in the world. While we tend to focus on the Middle East as the be-all, end-all of petrol, in point of fact US oil supply is much more dependent on Venezula, Canada, and its own Gulf deposits, while Asia benefits from Indonesian wells. Only Europe is without its own significant reserves (the North Sea being the only possible exception), and so it relies very heavily on Middle Eastern and Central Asian sources for its oil and gas. Keep in mind that Central Asian oil - still not fully developed - powered the Soviet Union for 40 years. Now that the Iron Curtain is down, Europe is trying to access these resources - preferrably without Russian involvement.

Oil companies are having a field day in Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan, but unfortunately the smaller, mountainous republics of the Kyrgyz and Tajiks are lacking in significant oil or (natural) gas deposits. Additionally, since both are land-locked and bordered by no-transit zones (Iran and China), they stand nothing to gain by the oil boom. It is interesting to note - and surely the subject of a future post - that the more ruthless autocracies have been able to persist thanks in no small part to the enormous investment revenue of international oil (in fairness, multinational corporations often have inverse interests to those of the local population, which coupled with their disproportionate means to pursue them commonly leads to this result. therefore, this a rail not against the oil industry in specific, but simply about one recurring negative side effect of international capitalism, of which oil happens to be a prominent example).

Also note, this is only investment. The countries are not yet producing enough oil to be silly-rich like the Saudis; for now, they're getting paid in-advance for future returns, allowing the leaders to fortify their positions and ensure a rigid sociol and economic order before prosperity (for the chosen status quo elite) arrives.

On the other hand, Kyrgyzstan, with no oil and only minimal foreign investment, has the most democratic government in the region. Still, this is only a relative democracy, a point to which (again) we must turn later. For now, it is important to know that the Kyrgyz government is run by President Bakiev, who's party, Ak Jol, also controls 71 of the 90 Parliamentary seats, and all major executive and legislative positions. The opposition in Parliamen is comprised primarily of the Social Democrats (11 seats) and the Communists (8 seats), though many smaller parties exist without a single seat.

Mr. Isabekov is of course a member of Ak Jol, which is itself less a political party (despite the name; "people's party"), and more accurately the title chosen post-election by those politicians who decided to back (unconditionally) President Bakiev.

While Kyrgyzstan does not have any oil or gas, it does have significant amounts of other precious minerals (gold, copper, etc.) burried in its enormous mountain ranges. These are, accordingly, of great importance to any possible future prosperity for Kyrgyzstan.

So I was going to meet with a lead figure (ok, 4th from the top when even the #2 guy - Prime Minister - was a Very distant second from the cult of Bakiev), to discuss with him an issue of major international (mostly Canadian) investment. And by "Discuss" you understand I mean "Listen." And by "Listen," you understand I mean, "sit there are guess what the Kyrgyz means."

Still, pretty heady assignment for my first day "on the job."

After clearing up a little issue at the door - security guard didn't want to let an American into the government building without express consent from above - we made our way to the Vice-Speaker's office. Bektash filled me in more on Kyrgyz politics while the receptionist and bodyguard (?) chatted politely. Thank goodness I already knew some of the background from my courses at Columbia, or I would have been really lost (how are you doing, by the way?).

Isabekov himself was a genial younger man, with noticeably strong hands. He is former military, but it shows only in the most subtle of ways. He did not speak English, a trait for which he apologized and explained that he was raised to be a farmer before proudly pointing to a photograph of his son and daughter, both fluent in English and studying at universities in America. It remains unclear to me if lack of english fluency is considered an intellectual deficit (which is ridiculous but something I did come across in Europe), or if it is simply polite to explain why my foreign tongue is not being used in the Kyrgyz capital building.

Mr. Isabekov had been to America, I was informed, on trips to learn more about gold mining and other mineral extraction. He'd visited a mine in Reno, Nevada and met with several Western governors (he asked if Montana was much like Texas, and I had to admit it was, except without the heat and mexican food). He'd been to Chicago, LA and DC, with meetings at Dept. State and the Pentagon - an especially odd experience he said for someone who trained in the army to defeat the American military.

The interview itself revealed few surprises - or didn't seem to. Again, an all-Kyrgyz exchange made any nuanced observation impossible. When Bishtaki was finished with the official business, he inquired if I wanted to ask Mr. Isabekov any direct question.

I must admit that, despite spending their entire interview formulating potential queries, I initially balked. What do I know about gold mining, or international investment, or even journalism!?! We conducted some nicities, then I decided to go for it.

Bektash acted as my translator as I asked the following (better worded here thanks to the not-real-time of written communication):

"I know that in the history of the United States, we had great trouble with mining companies abusing their workers. This was made possible because mines usually operate in remote places and the workers are dependent on the company for many of their basic necessities. The United States and many other countries developed strict regulations to protect workers in these dangerous circumstances, and I was wondering if Mr. Isabekov could tell me about the regulations the Kyrgyz government has put in place to protect Kyrgyz workers at these new mining facilities?"

I'm not sure how exactly that was translated back to Kyrgyz, but this is (approximately) the response I got, filtered through a rough translation, and generally summarized.

"After 9/11, Kyrgyzstan pledged aid to the United States, and made itself available to help America in its fight [against terrorism]. Kyrgyzstan opened [Manas] airbase for US use (btw - set to be closed, contentiously, in August 2009) and commenced extensive cooperative military and tactical training exercises. Kyrgyzstan is a friend of the United States, and of course we also learn from them and protect our people as any nation must."

As Bektash confirmed later, this is what it means to get the Party Line.

We left on the same good terms with which we entered, and Mr. Isabekov made a point of giving me one of his business cards, making the entire journey indescribably valuable. I'm keeping the card in my passport, and it should prove to be a "golden ticket" if the police decide to give me any trouble (as they occasionally do - only for the purpose of sneaking some money from your wallet while "inspecting" it).

Another day, another interview with a not-quite-head-of-state.

Weber (on the lamb)

Bishkek Whiskey Breakfast

First day on the job at Radio Azattyk.

We started the day off with an all-staff meeting. I was introduced and given a general Q&A by some of the reporters (why come to Kyrgyzstan?), then tried to follow the next hour of project assignments and reports - all in Kyrgyz. There were some lively debates, and some (apparently) humerous retorts, none of which I understood.

Following the meeting I was literally hauled into the staff break room, with the entire senior staff in attendance. Then Gulaiym, my contact from Columbia who landed me the internship and is essentially serving as my mentor for the summer, pulled out a large bottle of Johnny Walker Red and a box of chocolates she purchased during a layover in Heathrow.

It is a custom not unique to Kyrgyzstan, in fact it seems universal in my admittedly limited travels. Whenever someone returns from a trip abroad, they are expected to bring back some small treat to share with everyone. Large, or long-lasting gifts don't seem to be popular - what matters is that everyone can enjoy a little something exotic. There is certainly some parallel in American culture, but it's not as widespread or as communal. "What did you get me," with a focus on the brilliance of the gift, rather than "what did you bring us," with enthusiastic, but temporary, curiousity.

With a great flourish, the senior staff crowded around the break room table and spread the chocolates around, while Gulaiym quickly poured a shot of whiskey for all present, myself included. There certainly was no refusing such an offer, so I embarked on the first straight shot of whiskey in my life at 10:00 am on Monday, the first of June, 2009.

In a culture where Vodka shots are a casual refreshment (prohibitions on alcohol being a flexibility of Islamic law not enforced in Kyrgyzstan), I hoped that whiskey - albeit Scottish rather than Kentucky - might give some of them enough pause to make my timidity less apparent. When the middle-aged woman to my left finished in one gulp, my hopes dissipated. Further, when I say "shot" bear in mind these are not actually shot glasses - they're small juice glasses, filled to the brim. I sipped mine in the largest gulps I could manage without making a face. Luckily, at least one or two people found whiskey not as appetizing as vodka, so I wasn't the last one finished.

In retrospect, I don't think I'd go so far as to recommend a shot(+) of whiskey as a Monday morning tradition, but I can't help wonder how much more entertaining that staff meeting would have been if we just bumped the Whiskey Breakfast one hour earlier.

Weber (on the lamb)

Radio Free Bishkek?

Thus far, when asked what I would be doing this summer, I generally responded that I would be "working for Radio Free Europe, and probably helping with some English language training." I said that because I had basically no further idea what I was walking into, or even what exactly Radio Azattyk (the local name for RFE/RL) is.

Here are the confusing facts:
Radio Azattyk is part of Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty.
From 2005-2008, Radio Azattyk broadcast RFE/RL Programming in Bishkek on both radio & Television. This was terminated by Government maneuvering in January 2009 as part of a renewed, but still not overwhelming, government crackdown on media freedom. Radio Azattyk employs several dozen reporters, including an "International" office that covers Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kazakhstan and Afghanistan, and a "Youth Radio" program of about a dozen 20-somethings.

Here are the relevant details that make the above less enigmatic:
Radio Azattyk is essentially a field-office or Correspondent's desk for RFE/RL. While they previous also had a broadcast station in Bishkek that station is now closed. The majority of their work is not in broadcasting, but in content creation (journalism). They generate stories on Krygyzstan and the other Central Asian republics and wire (ok, e-mail) them back to the RFE HQ in Prague. From there, Kyrgyz-language reports are made available in Kyrgyzstan via internet, satellite, and the ubiquitous short-wave radio. English-language versions are posted on the website.

It's the history of RFE that makes this all sensible. The organization was founded in 1949 by the US Government as a means to undercut Soviet authority. Rather than having Americans try to convince the local Soviet citizens that Communism was bad, the station (and Radio Liberty, which was originally founded independently in 1953 in Europe with essentially the same mission) found refugee intellectuals who had fled a Soviet country and essentially gave them the means to transmit their greivances, in their own language, back to the country they left behind. These services operated exclusively outside the Iron Curtain, but broadcast into the USSR via shortwave radio and later targeted AM and FM radio. The exact methods - fascinating as they are - require a good bit more technical understanding of the physics and history of Radio, with which I will not presently bore you.

The operating premise of RFE & RL were that, 1) Freedom of information was inherently anti-oppression (and thus, presumably, anti-Community), and 2) People from the region should be responsible for all news gathering and program creation as they best understood the inequities and were most-able to communicate, linguistically and culturally, with the local residents.

Compare that to Voice of America, which was founded at the beginnign of WWII and who's continuing mission is to promote a positive image of the United States abroad, usually relying on US-generated propaganda material translated into local languages by interpreters.

After the fall of the Soviet Union, the now-united RFE/RL essentially moved in-country. Instead of relying on refugees, they setup offices staffed locally (without any local US "oversight" mind you). When possible, as in Kyrgyzstan from 2005-2008, local FM broadcast was established, rather than the "broadcast from afar." The prevailing pattern, then, is to have an RFE branch office in-country, generating news reports that are sent back to Prague and from there transmitted back in-country via shortwave, internet, and also satellite transmissions.

You can find quite a bit more about REF/ Radio Azattyk here: http://www.rferl.org/info/Kyrgyzstan/189.html


As for my actual duty assignments, it's still rather early to tell, and it seems they're brainstorming more ways to use me. I am a complete oddity as an intern, perhaps their first ever from the United States. Since the entire purpose of the organization is the broadcast Kyrgyz news to Krygyz citizens, with a secondary mission of generating international news about Kyrgyzstan (mostly in English), I am potentially very helpful, but only in creative ways.

Some of my planned duties include English language training (as anticipated), but everyone on staff has already had at least some formal training. Everyone speaks Kyrgyz as a native tongue, though they all also know Russian and at least one other language (usually French or German). I am therefore not here to teach basic grammar (thank goodness), but mostly to help improve fluency through discussion sessions.

I will also be involved with some journalism efforts, especially when interviewing foreigners about local or international issues. I have been promised a good share of work with the Youth Radio progam (basically every young person I've met in Kyrgyzstan speaks English), though I still don't know what exactly I would do.

So that's the job - a fascinating history, but I fear a less-than-exhilirating read.

In reality, I think they look on me as only 1/2 an intern and 1/2 a resource. Whenever there is a language question I am consultated. Additionally, when an opportunity comes up for me to observe something interesting or provide me some training, I get to tag along. However, for the most part, I sit at my desk, writing blogs and e-mails until such summons appear. Eventually, I'll spend this time planning language classes, or working on my own assignments - I hope.

For now, I have much time to write, which is good.

Because I am very long-winded.

Weber (on the lamb)