New Year's Eve

Diana and I had plans to watch Russian movies with some friends at their place, but then at the last minute those plans fell through, so we decided to spend a quiet New Year's at home, relaxing. We had heard that there would be fireworks at 8pm, which made sense, because in Dushanbe everything closes and the streets are always empty by 8:30. Whenever we've been out past 9pm, it feels like a ghost town. While in Armenia everything happens at midnight, like in the States, we just figured that, like everything else happens earlier, so would the fireworks.

I think the 'earliness' is due to the civil war, which, when it was fought in the streets of Dushanbe, was on a schedule which began at dusk or dark. Everyone had to get home before the fighting started, so the theatre took place at 4pm, work ended at 5pm at the latest, and usually began at 8am to account for the early closure.

So we jumped into a tangem at about 7:30 and headed for the city center. As usual, the streets on the way there were already barren. But as we arrived at Rudaki, the main drag, we saw that this night was not at all like all other nights. Crowds of young boys mobbed the streets, joking with and pushing each other. Police lined the streets. The gunshot-like pop of single firecrackers rang out repeatedly. We had heard these near our house from early December, but that was just once in a while, and now it was every couple of seconds.

One of my teachers had told me that, immediately after teh civil war ended, it was difficult for many to listen to the firecracker bangs and not be worried about gunshots. While far less dangerous than guns, these firecrackers were wielded by young males who didn't share the same sense of personal responsibility for others' safety as many of us do. The teacher one time had a jacket ruined because someone tossed a firecracker into the air and it exploded near her shoulder, burning off a patch of fabric.

Having heard that story just several hours before Diana and I got out of the tangem and entered the downtown mayhem, I was somewhat 'on guard'. We cautously made our way towards where we thought the fireworks would be, watching every passing group of boys for signs of firecrackers. Bangs did go off around us, but thankfully on the ground and not too close. The police were also watching (unsuccessfully) for firecrackers, because they're illegal, and thus can be confiscated... for great profit.

While neither of us felt comfortable in the crowded streets, it probably wasn't as dangerous as I might have made it sound--there were families with children, and girls out as well. I think it's safe to say that we were more accustomed to 'safety culture', though, and judged the situation with a different perspective, which is why we eventually decided to head back home early.

Trying to find out what was going on, and why people seemed to be moving towards the Ismoili Somoni statue, Diana asked a family, "What's going on over there?" The wife replied in Persian, "Sorry, I don't understand Russian. We're from Afghanistan."

When Diana's language skills don't work, I take over in Tajiki. "We were trying to find out what's going on over there, and why the police aren't letting poeple through," I said. "There's going to be a concert, and they're checking people. The concert isn't going to be until 9pm, though." "Do you know if there will be fireworks?" I asked. "We heard at midnight there will be fireworks. Where are you from?"

"America." For a split second, the husband and wife both looked like they had been slapped, the woman's face seemed to tighten and her eyes became wide with something I didn't catch, but they quickly regained their composure. "We live here now," I explained. "Well, the Police will probably begin letting people through now," the Afghan man said, "Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year!" I replied, and we walked away in opposite directions. I don't know what they were thinking or what caused them to be taken aback when I said I was from America--it could have been that Diana spoke Russian and I spoke Tajiki--but the problem is there are currently so many negative reasons for them to have reacted that way that I was filled with a sense of shame.

It was New Year's Eve, though, and since I can't change my country's course from here, we decided to people watch and take some pictures. I had forgotten to bring my passport, registration and visa copies with me, so passing the police lines might have meant paying some bribe if they decided to ask for those. We probably missed an amazing lip-synched concert, but we'll live.

At the entrance to Rudaki Park (formerly Lenin Park, formerly with real trees, now with electric trees in a country with energy issues)

Selling...something food-like
A firecracker launches

After taking some pics, dodging firecrackers and watching the crowds for a while, we found a tangem and headed back home, where we celelbrated New Year's with each other for the first time. Hope everyone had a similarly interesting and exciting New Year's celebration, and, in the words of many an Armenian Tamada, may 2010 bring you happiness, success, good health and the fulfilment of all of your dreams!

I just don't know what Santa ('Winter Grandpa' here), a bear and a tiger have to do with each other, but I think for a couple of somoni you can have your pic taken with one of them.

Seeing people out this late made Dushanbe look very strange.