TRAVELING KYRGYZSTAN

Good morning and Happy New Year! Here are just a few photos from the gazillions that Kaylee and I made during our nine-day spell in Tash-Kumyr. Her and I resettled ourselves in Bishkek last night after a ten hour cab ride over the never ending, winding, icy, and perpetually terrifying Osh-Bishkek Road. I must admit, though, that the scenery was truly worth it. Gorgeous snowy mountains and the the bluest river I’ve ever seen were with us the entire way. It was a welcome change from the dreary sights in Tash-Kumyr.

We went to Tash-Kumyr for the purpose of documenting young people mining coal. Minor miners, if you will. But after arriving we found that the topic of children mining was just a small part of a larger, troublesome reality. A wealth of crumbling storefronts and tattered billboards that once accurately touted a village with sparkly mining equipment and beautiful mountain scenery constantly reminded us that life has drastically changed for every one of the town’s residents since Kyrgyzstan became a sovereign nation in the early 1990s. Young people working in coal mines is just one of the many byproducts of this change.

During the Soviet era, proper mining equipment, healthcare, and jobs were easy to come by, but with the fall of the USSR, Tash-Kumyr’s local economy dried up. China and Russia-bound coal trains stopped running through town. The wood from Russian forests that was used to build support beams in underground mines no longer found its way in to Kyrgyzstan. Existing equipment was sold to other countries for the sake of bringing in a few bucks. The local employment rate fell from 90% to 10%. The town soon found itself revolving around a wild, rogue, completely unregulated coal mining industry.

Over the course of our visit we met several of the countless permanently disabled victims of coal mining accidents from the last 20 years. These folks don’t have enough money to provide for their families, let alone to receive proper health care for the injuries they’ve sustained. A government-sponsored social fund provides about 60 U.S. dollars to these families per month, which is almost more affronting than helpful. However, hundreds of the town’s 20,000 residents risk these types of injuries every day during mining season, which stretches from September through the end of January. In fact, just last night we heard that a young person lost his life in a mining accident the day we left town.

Tash-Kumyr’s story is harsh and harrowing. Personally speaking, it was mentally and physically exhausting to be there for nine days. Because most people in town heat their homes and outdoor bathhouses by burning local coal, the air quality is utterly abysmal. Breathing and sleeping did not come easy. And while I often saw and appreciated children laughing and playing and old folks joking and making conversation in the streets, I found myself struggling to share those moments of joy. I know that life goes on and you make all the good you can during the hard times, but the town very clearly had a lot going for it at one time. It had an easy, safe, and functional present and a bright future. But here in the first couple days of 2012, I felt like I was in a place that only has a past—nothing left to look forward to but making it to the next New Year’s celebration. That feeling weighed pretty heavily on me, and I hope I’m wrong about it. I will have the good people of Tash-Kumyr in my thoughts for a long time.

Kaylee and I will be wrapping up our time in Kyrgyzstan editing and working from our group’s guest home in Bishkek. We hope our families and friends had a great New Years and we’re looking forward to seeing you very soon.

Jon Augustine