Tajikistan

Blog Post:  Posted August 15, 2010, 6:37 am by Sarah Royall

What is community?

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Peaceful Change, Livelihoods, Citizen Involvement

Tajikistan is a small former Soviet Republic situated just north of Afghanistan. The contrast between the two neighboring countries is striking. The occasional bullet-ridden and bombed-out buildings alongside slowly decomposing scraps of former tanks are regular reminders of the violent six-year civil war that ended just barely a decade ago and went largely unpublicized in the West. Some communities have suffered enduring conflicts with violent flare-ups as recently as last year — and this is where you’ll find Mercy Corps working.

Despite these past conflicts, all over Tajikistan we find communities working together to promote peace and improve one another’s situations. “Hashars” are Tajik community get-togethers. Unlike the neighborly meet-ups in my neighborhood in America where we share gossip over drinks, here the community gets together to work on a project that benefits everyone, such as improving the roads or cutting hay that everyone can use.

On a recent field visit to a village high in the mountains, we came to what appeared to be the end of a barely passable road. It’s obvious to see why the community has asked for our help in improving these roads. The community members decided to start the work themselves and organised a community hashar, repairing the worst part of the road. Since there are so many miles of roads that are in need of serious repairs, especially before the challenging winter weather sets in, our contribution can stretch a little further now that the community has started the first few feet.

When our recent project began in Tajikistan, we started by forming Community Action Groups (CAGs) who steer all of our work in these villages. A few weeks ago, our team led a training about the Vision for Change with one of our CAGs. Afterwards, the participants were eager to share how they related to our values. It was clear that this really resonated with them, especially because the idea of community-led development is already a strong concept in their culture.

Blog Post:  Posted August 6, 2010, 3:35 am by Sarah Royall

It’s wedding season — Tajik style!

Country: Tajikistan

About a year ago, I was sailing into the sunset off the coast of Maine with my boyfriend (who also works for Mercy Corps) when all of a sudden a ring appeared! Since then I’ve sadly spent more time out of the country than in the U.S. with my fiancée, first in Vietnam and now in Tajikistan. Somehow, though, the wedding planning has gone on despite my travels to places where the internet and phone connections are sporadic, or non-existent.

My engaged Tajik colleague and I have spent many hours comparing our wedding planning processes. The President of Tajikistan has put a £1,200 limit on wedding spending (my parents would like this). There is no Tajik word for engagement because most marriages are arranged and it all happens so fast. The groom says he’s ready for a bride, and voilà! His parents present a beautiful bride.

Like most Tajik events, there’s a lot of food involved. The buffet we’re planning pales in comparison to the amount of food presented at Tajik weddings. Even in areas where families are struggling to make ends meet, they find a way to throw together an excellent party for their children.

As for bridal style, we both wear white, although I’m opting for off-white to hide how pale I’ve become from being covered all the time in Tajikistan. While I’m skipping the veil, this is absolutely not an option for Tajik brides who wear a knee-length thick veil. In fact the veil is so thick that the brides can’t really see through it, so they hold it out in front of them while they walk with a bridesmaid gently guiding them.

Often times the bridal and groom parties split off after the ceremony. Ladies and men break off into separate food and dancing parties while the children look on hoping someone will pass them some of the candy or a boiled egg from the table. It’s a tradition to tip the dancers, so children can make out like bandits this way. One of my favorite moments at a wedding I was recently invited to was when the groom took the plateful of candy that had been placed on his lap and threw it into a crowd of children! It was utter chaos!

Moments like these you realize that despite the abject poverty we see in many developing countries there is still so much joy.

Blog Post:  Posted July 24, 2010, 2:43 am by Sarah Royall

Where the road ends

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Education

After four hours of winding through bumpy dirt roads heading east from the capital of Tajikistan — Dushanbe — hugging mountain sides with sharp drop-offs to a rushing river, you'll find yourself in Gharm. It's a small, conservative town by most standards. There's one restaurant, a small daily market and a few shops that carry that Tajik staples: RC cola, rice, cookies, soap, etc.

For the past six weeks this is where I have called home. Most fellow expats in Tajikistan ask me, how do you live in such a small place? But I rather like it actually and I think it's important that Mercy Corps places expats out in the field where our work is really happening.

As though Gharm weren't small enough, I've been spending the last few weeks in even smaller villages. The roads to these villages are even worse than the road to Gharm. Our drivers skillfully pass through small rivers, slosh through muddy roads and find the road where I honestly can't see it.

What's at the end of these roads is astonishing. Most of Tajikistan is covered with high mountains, and amazingly people find a way to live up there. Not only do they survive the harsh winters, but they do so with an incredible sort of grace. Everywhere we go people greet us with smiles and laughter, and beg us to share a cup of tea with them or even stay the night.

Last week we visited a little village in the district of Obi Mehnat. During the winter these villages are completely cut off from larger towns because the snow makes the difficult roads up the mountains completely impassable. In 2002, Mercy Corps built the first school up in this village.

I met one of the school teachers who herself had only been able to attend 8th grade because the village lacked any further grades. She boasted that now the students from their village are constantly ranking in the top of the country for academic achievements. Not only that, but in the heart of the conservative Islamic Rasht valley, they are graduating more girls than boys!

Coping with the Economic Crisis:

Blog Post:  Posted June 23, 2010, 8:34 pm by Sarah Royall

Sewing for success

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Youth, Women's Empowerment, Economic Development

Last week I visited Mercy Corps’ first youth employment project to get started under the Tajikistan Stability Enhancement Programme, the programme I’m assisting with this summer. In the sweltering heat, we entered a small room with five girls working away on sewing machines. The instructor constantly wiped sweat away from her brow as she talked to us about the programme.

Over 80 girls from the impoverished area of Shaartuz, in the lower part of Tajikistan, applied for this training. Twenty were selected based on their need and their completion of 11th grade. The instructor told us it’s important to ensure they complete 11th grade because otherwise girls or their families will want to leave school early to complete this training.

Two stories in particular touched me from this visit. There was a 20-year-old woman sitting in the front row who proudly showed off the dress she was wearing, which she had sewn herself. It was visible that this course had improved her self-esteem, something that will translate into innumerable improvements in her life.

The second was a young woman working quietly in the back row. She told us that her husband had gone to Russia for work, a fairly common situation and one sort-of pushed by the state. Unfortunately he never came back and she has two children at home to care for. She was looking forward to finishing this three-month course so that she could take out a small loan from a microfinance institute and buy a sewing machine to start her own business. This sewing school offers business planning assistance, including help on finding financial assistance.

It’s inspiring to see the ways that Mercy Corps projects can empower women and help improve the economy at the same time.

Blog Post:  Posted June 16, 2010, 4:08 am by Sarah Royall

Vegetarian Food Diaries in Tajikistan, Part 1

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Food/Nutrition

I've been in Tajikistan for a few days now and I finally admitted to my colleagues that I packed most of a suitcase with food because I was that worried about my ability to find vegetarian food here. They all laughed at me because the food here is actually quite good, even for vegetarians.

On my first day here, I wandered into a small market near the Mercy Corps guest house in Dushanbe, the capital of Tajikistan. A woman with an entire top row of gold teeth welcomes us to her table and allows us to sample her goodies: multiple kinds of almonds including sugared, a variety of dried apricots from last year and maybe even before, dried cherries, dried rose hips, and roasted chickpeas with or without salt from this year or before.

This was the first moment I was embarrassed to have brought my suitcase with food, which is mostly filled with almonds and dried fruit.

The Mercy Corps cooks have been very accommodating about making me vegetarian meals with protein, something I particularly struggled with when I worked in Africa. During my safety briefing I was even told that my diet is recommended during the hot season because power fluctuates frequently, causing meat to go from hot to cold and hot again before cooking, allowing bacteria to flourish first in your food and then in your gut! Sadly, the same thing happens to ice cream, so I have been warned to avoid this too. I was looking forward to ice cream, but my waistline will probably thank me!

Blog Post:  Posted November 18, 2009, 9:47 pm by Janice Setser

Six days on the road

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Women's Empowerment, Rural, Food/Nutrition, Economic Development, Agriculture

I'm both exhausted and exhilarated by my six-day journey through the red clay rocky back-roads of Tajikistan's border area with Kyrgyzstan in the Rasht Valley.

Moving village to village to meet with women who have been patiently awaiting my arrival for six months, I feel humbled by their expression of enthusiasm upon seeing me. They greet me with near-celebrity status, and are utterly unaware of how much I am awed by them, completely inspired by them.

These women, who have somewhere between a third and seventh grade education, live with their large families in a highly mountainous region where unforgiving winters last between six and seven months — severely shortening the growing season — and where they are miles from any market or hospital. Getting to a market or hospital in the winter time isn't generally an option anyway, except on foot or by horse. Occasionally, a government plough will clear the roads and, in a streak of good weather, it may be possible by car.

Electricity is also scarce and unregimented; houses are heated with wood they collect themselves or coal they buy, if they have the money. These women are the first to rise and the last to go to bed, providing the care for their children, their husbands, mothers- and fathers-in-law, the livestock and the land attached to the house. They stoke the fires, keep a constant pot of tea boiling and cook their one or two hot meals a day; they are the back bones of a large family, starting from the young age of 17 or 18, when they enter into an arranged marriage.

After three days in this Central Asian outback, my cuticles are split and bleeding and I'm constantly applying my £12 wheat germ oil to try to salvage my parched skin. Meanwhile, they are in and out of the house, to and from the detached kitchens, moving through the harsh elements — wind, rain or snow. There is no indoor plumbing, and sometimes the only running water is blocks away. Whether it is clean water or not is another issue.

The women thank me profusely for coming and I am at a loss to express my respect and admiration for them sufficiently. Even though it is my dream to live off the land, build my own house and have my own food forest, when I look at these women and their lives I wonder, could I ever do what they do? Could I ever really live as they live? Would I have the strength, the stamina, the fortitude to endure this beautiful but cruel environment such as they do?

I am grateful to these women, in this environment and with their workload, for actively participating in our programme of health and agriculture education — some coming from long distances to meet together and hold discussions. This is a new habit for them, and the health and agriculture village educators who volunteer for us tell me that it was very difficult for them in the beginning to convince the women to come.

Now, however, they come willingly and faithfully, eager to learn and discuss the topics of safe pregnancy, breast-feeding and supplementary feeding of children over six months. They tell me with fire and passion all of the different details that they know and have learned from Mercy Corps on these subjects. They tell me how the greenhouses have changed their lives too — eating tomatoes and cucumbers that they have produced themselves when they previously thought it was impossible in their region. They also express their gratitude that the jars that they have canned with fruits and pickled products are no longer exploding and being lost because of improper canning methods — now they are able to keep their jars and use them through the winter.

They are also grateful for the social time — the brief respite away from their large volume of tasks in the house — to meet together and exchange information, share problems and support one another in a forum that was previously unavailable to them.

Over and over their pour out their gratitude and appreciation to Mercy Corps for starting this programme in their communities. I tell them that, in the Garm office alone, we have 74 staff that are all working for them and that, without them, without their participation, we would not have a programme. I thank them, but I am thanking them for much more than just their participation. I am also thanking them for being amazing teachers of strength, capacity, warmth and extraordinary generosity — even though I fail to properly express this with my faltering language skills.

I hope they get it on some level — I hope they understand that they are the reason that I am here.

Blog Post:  Posted August 16, 2009, 12:07 am by Jarrett Basedow

Cooking with Jonibek

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Hunger, Food/Nutrition

One weekend morning, I walked into the kitchen of the house here in Garm to see what I could scrounge up for breakfast. I smiled when I noticed there was coffee ready.

My previous housemate was often up before me and I’d wake to find all sorts of good surprises. I did my customary check to see how my protracted battle with my sworn enemies – the ants – was going. Not well. But then I noticed there was something else sitting by the stove.

A pan filled with some sort of batter. “Fikr mekuned, Jonibek – think, what could this be?” I asked myself. My still-sleepy mind flashed back to the previous weekend, when we’d enjoyed some delicious French toast. “Didn’t that have some sort of batter, and didn’t Amy show me how to dip it and grill it up?”

Excited, I cut some slices of bread and dipped them in the batter.

“Hmmmm.this batter seems a bit thicker, but whatever. Also, remember to Google the advice someone gave you about ants not wanting to cross a line of chalk. They must be stopped,” I thought.

The area around the bread began to get fluffier and I realized I was basically making pancake-wrapped toast. My co-worker was infinitely amused, but I stand by my creation – it was pretty tasty.

From this example it should be clear this post is about my own kitchen-based deficiencies, and not about how hard it is to cook here. This isn’t anything new, as I once borrowed a glass pan from a friend to try and make lemon squares, and had to call her back two hours later telling her I owed her a glass plan.

Our facilities aren’t bad, although they require a little ingenuity. Gulsara, our weekday cook for the office, whips up some great meals – even on the day where a lack of gas and power outages gave her intermittent access to one hot plate. If that had been a weekend, I probably would have survived on Clif bars and maybe managed to make some ramen.

But every day, residents of the Rasht region provide for their families with basic stoves and worries about power supply, harsh weather and food security. I’ve been humbled by some of the meals I’ve received when interviewing villagers, and am able to truthfully tell them it’s way better than what I eat at home.

The lack of food security in this region has been demonstrated to me by these trips, and by seeing what is often unavailable. Even seeing the dip in products at the local bazaar has made this clear – much of what was present throughout the summer is already beginning to fade from view.

In light of what I have available, I’ve resolved to make more of an effort with cooking and using fresh local produce. Successes include a decent tomato sauce and several vegetables grilled with garlic. I even made pancakes for some of our staff, most of which were edible.

Blog Post:  Posted August 6, 2009, 2:23 am by Jarrett Basedow

Lord of the bees

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Rural, Economic Development, Agriculture

Beekeeping is an extremely valued activity in many areas of the world, and honey enjoys a nearly mythological reputation in many cultures. It should – promises weren’t made about a land of milk and honey for nothing.

Honey is a simple and healthy combination of sugars with many medicinal benefits. Other bee products enjoy many uses, as well. My toothpaste even contains propolis (a resin mixture collected from flowers and trees that bees used to reinforce the hive), as recent dental research is investigating its anti-cavity properties.

I’ll admit that conducting value chain research for Mercy Corps has made me somewhat obsessed with bee and rose hips products, and that I specifically bought this toothpaste because it had a picture of a bee. I even tried to convince my shopping partner to buy it, but she went with wintergreen instead. Also, I might have taped a “Buy Local” post-it to a jar of imported honey I saw at a friend’s apartment.

Beekeeping has been practiced a long time in the Rasht Valley, and all over Tajikistan. Most of the beekeepers I have talked to have decades of experience, and learned the craft from their family. They use moveable frame hives similar to designs used in large honey producing countries, including Argentina, the U.S. and China. Many transport their bee boxes to higher mountain areas to take advantage of the fresh air and wild mountain flowers, producing a honey that is prized for its clean taste and medicinal properties.

Local producers in the Rasht Valley can make a decent living off of selling honey, and many smaller ones supplement their income through home honey sales. Some just enjoy diversifying their diet a little. Obstacles for Rasht producers include a lack of market information and difficulty finding markets for their product. The region can feel isolated, both in the five-hour distance to the country's capital, Dushanbe, and economic and political ties that are sometimes lacking. Many beekeepers transport (or arrange transport) to areas outside of the Dushanbe’s bazaars and sell to merchants who turn the product around for a higher price inside the bazaar.

I am researching ways to help beekeepers make direct market connections and work together to market their product. Additionally, I’m looking at how beekeeping can help marginalised groups, including women and residents of poorer villages, increase their food and income security.

My research continues to bring me close to swarms of bees, but this is balanced out by finding myself in close proximity to tons of delicious honey. I think it’d be rude not to taste every variety put in front of me.

Blog Post:  Posted July 28, 2009, 3:36 am by Jarrett Basedow

What's in a name?

Country: Tajikistan

When I’ve studied abroad, I have usually avoided using a local moniker — including last summer when I lived with a Tajik family and studied Tajik. It didn’t matter too much to me that my name, for whatever reason, is completely unintelligible for a variety of cultures. Usually people come close — "Jerrett" has been a popular pronunciation in Russian, and others have made a valiant effort and ended up with "Jerry" or "Gerald."

No offense to people with these names, but they are not for me. So, for my work this summer with Mercy Corps, I’ve wholeheartedly adopted a Tajik name. After deep consultation with our staff here in Garm and some testing in villages where we're distributing food, I have settled on a name I use on a daily basis. Some initial suggestions were immediately discarded: my family from last summer and staff at a local café decided that "Jafar" would be a good strong name. But Americans kept asking me where Iago —the parrot from the Disney movie Aladdin — was.

Additionally, many men in the Rasht Valley have much longer names, as certain suffixes are added to indicate respect or religious stature. For examples, -jon, -din or -hafiz can be added to common names like "Mahmad" or "Abdul" to come up with "Mahmadjon" or "Abdulhafiz."

Whatever names our staff suggested I kept adding suffixes to, in order to have the longest name. Since they wouldn’t accept "Jarrett-bek-din-abdul-rashid," I settled on their other favorite, "Jonibek." A rough translation of this name means everyone’s dear or great friend — the suffix -bek indicates stature or respect. It’s not an extremely common name and, between that and its use of seven letters and a "J," I feel it’s a good fit.

Using a local name has made introductions for my value-added interviews easier, as people’s reactions are very positive. They either find it amusing, respectful or just easier to remember. Even staff who really make an effort with my real name switch back to Jonibek since it’s just a lot easier and familiar.

Blog Post:  Posted July 22, 2009, 3:39 am by Jarrett Basedow

What would you do for an interview?

Country: Tajikistan

Topics: Rural, Food/Nutrition, Economic Development, Agriculture

Amy promised me pancakes if I wrote a blog entry, and I’ve accepted her terms.

Road conditions in Tajikistan's Rasht Valley are always a constraint. This summer holds great promise with a number of new roads being built, but also great frustration in navigating road closures. I know this has been a huge challenge for Mercy Corps’ food distribution currently in action. Beyond road closures and sometimes confrontational road crews, there are also the usual poor road conditions. I’m continually impressed by the resiliency of our vehicles and the skill and knowledge of our drivers.

Before I get to my description of navigating a different type of roadblock, I should introduce myself. I am a graduate student interning with Mercy Corps this summer, conducting a value chain study. I’m examining how Mercy Corps can implement value-added programming to improve the honey, rose hip and fruit markets — specifically pears and apples. I’ve been interviewing buyers, wholesalers, retailers and producers to see what people are selling and how the system works. It has been fascinating and, although I’ve found myself in the middle of a few swarms of bees, I haven’t gotten stung yet.

Earlier in the week I interviewed a wholesaler, Makhmad, who purchases dried rose hips from several jamoats (districts) in the area. Basically, if you own a truck in this area you are a wholesaler, and you transport goods to the capital of Dushanbe, as well as the northern city of Khojand, Tajikistan's second-largest city. Makhmad was very helpful, explaining his business and his main contact in Khojand to whom he sells all his goods. He also told me that the village of Pingon, in a nearby jamoat, provides him with up to 14 tons of dried rose hips each year. The interview went so smoothly that I was later startled to find out I had such good access to a man villagers call a "phantom."

I wanted to verify price and other information from Makhmad, so on Friday set out for Pingon with Dodarjon, a member of our agricultural team, as well as our driver Iskander and his trusty yet increasingly shock-depleted Lada Niva. Iskander’s taped-up MP3 player has an interesting selection of Tajik pop, Russian covers of Western artists and Enrique Iglesias. I am burning him a CD so that the last one is in rotation less.

We passed through the village of Shulmak, where I was again unable to track down a phantom of my own — another truck owner that my interviews have pointed me towards. However, he was in Dushanbe this first time I stopped by, and now he's in China.

Further down the road we encountered another obstacle – the bridge going to Pingon was washed out. With the options of turning back or finding a footbridge, we decided to eat lunch. The head of the road crew offered us another option – fording a lower part of the river with his bulldozer. I was offered a place inside the cabin, and Dodarjon and Iskander held onto the sides. I held on to a loose watermelon that had been rolling around.

After our alternative crossing, we walked 4 kilometers to Pingon to interview villagers who ascend to the mountains each fall to collect rose hips. I’m conducting the interviews in Tajik, but I’m still glad to have Dodarjon there to take additional notes that I can review later. Household income in Pingon is almost entirely dependent on the collection of rose hips and walnuts in October, brought down on donkeys or on villagers' backs from higher altitudes a few kilometers away.

Most villagers accept informal credit from buyers like Makhmad in the summer, which is based on a low price for the product they hand over in the fall. Other intermediaries appear in the village in November. Wholesalers like Makhmad and buyers in Khojand and beyond remain a mystery to village producers.

While walking back to find a footbridge, a car pulled up. A man who had just returned to the village heard there had been a guest and insisted on giving us a ride to the river. This attitude is wonderfully pervasive throughout the region – guests are celebrated, welcomed and honored.

A few rickety footbridges spanning a fast-flowing river later, it was back to the bumpy ride home and good conversation with Dodarjon about possibilities for increasing and diversifying household incomes in the region. He was clearly amused yet beat from a long and interesting day. When we dropped him off, he still insisted I come to his house for a cup of tea.