![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:20 • Filed to: None | ![]() | ![]() |
Oh, Oppo, it’s 100º and I’ve had beer, so it’s story time. I actually struggled to think of a story, before I remembered this one.
My last week working in Bukhara, my group and I went out to buy some fruit from the market and then go have some beer, before going back to our hostel and having more beer. On our way back from the market, the main bazaar in the city, I had been lagging behind a bit, because I had a broken toe, and because I stopped to buy some Karvon cigarettes from a street stall.
It’s hard to describe Karvon cigarettes. They’re unfiltered and somewhat reminiscent of, say, Camel unfiltered cigarettes (not Lucky Strikes, which are toasted). They taste like they’re made of death, newspaper, and radioactivity. Smoking them will make you acutely aware of your own mortality. One chain-smoking Frenchman handed a pack to me “This is horrible, I can’t smoke it. Here.” I liked them.
Ana having collected a feather. She liked picking things up.
When I caught up, Ana was looking at a tree, ready to pluck a branch. Ana did this most places we went. She was about 40 and Bulgarian. The first time I met Ana, she was rolling a cigarette and did that thing where you use your lighter to burn it closed. It’s really cool and I have never been able to do it. She would later try to teach me and told me a boyfriend taught her. On the train from Tashkent to Bukhara, we were eating stale bread and canned paté. Ana pulled out a huge fucking knife and used it to serve the paté. She clearly relished the fact that everyone else on the train was staring at her huge fucking knife .
She would only speak to me in French. At first she sort of ignored me entirely, but after a week or so, she started repeating things slowly and bearing with me while I tried to reply. I didn’t mind so much, as I had made it clear to the others that they only had to speak to me in English if it was something of dire importance, otherwise I would manage with what I could understand. At some point Ana took me aside and said, in English, “I don’t want you to think that I don’t like you, but I’m not comfortable speaking English. If you want to talk, we can, but I won’t speak to you in English if anyone else is around.”
When I caught up to Ana looking at the tree, the others had already walked ahead a bit. About 30 feet away, there was a homeless man laying on the side of the road. My inner Manhattanite took control and I stopped in my tracks and watched him in case he got up.
That wasn’t without good cause. The youngest woman with us was frequently grabbed on buses and streets. One time, around 2 AM, I woke up in our hostel to see that the room was empty. I went downstairs to find Ana sitting outside smoking a cigarette and playing with her knife while a few other men were sitting around smoking in a very pissed off way. I asked what happened, and they told me that two Russian engineers who were staying in the hostel had gotten drunk and had been banging on the door of Ana and the young woman trying to get them to let them into the room. Me and three others decided to pay them a visit at their room. Nothing physical happened, but they left the next day.
While I was watching the homeless man, Ana looked over at me and then at the man. There was a woman walking down the street with a child, she looked at the man and then pulled her son close and kept walking. Ana just stood there for a while and stared, then she called the others over and walked up to him. I asked someone what was going on, and she told me that the man was dead. About ten feet from him was a man selling refurbished mechanical parts. Ana starting speaking to him in Russian him about the man. As was translated to me, he said “Him? Yes, he’s a drunk. Ignore him.” She said he was dead and asked why he didn’t call for help. He said “I called a few hours ago and no one came.”
We stood there for a while and then walked off to the bar in complete silence. No one mentioned it again and the silence persisted through drinks.
I had been to funerals before. I had seen open caskets. But this was very different. I had never seen anyone who was truly dead dead. And I had never seen anyone who had just given up and died like that on the street.
I remembered later that I had walked that way earlier in the day to go to the market and buy a needle and thread. I certainly passed him—alive—sitting there on the street, but I didn’t notice. He died alone on a side walk and no one came to collect his body for hours. He had a life and then he didn’t, and when he didn’t, it went unnoticed.
Oh bury me not
And his voice failed there
But we took no heed
To his dying prayer
In a narrow grave
Just six by three
We buried him there
On the lone prairie.
I’ve told this story to quite a few people in the hope that in some way that man won’t become forgotten entirely.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:42 |
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I know it’s not the point (because I’ve had a couple myself), but there’s something really sexy about a woman who rolls her own.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:45 |
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You’re not wrong, though.
I started smoking in college because I saw a girl sitting outside rolling cigarettes. She asked me if I wanted one, and I assumed she was smoking pot and she was cute, so I didn’t want to refuse. Maybe two weeks in, I actually inhaled and realized why people smoke.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:49 |
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I smoke every once in awhile, usually with my boss. My girlfriend is German, and frankly I was a tiny bit disappointed when I found out she doesn’t smoke. Every other German I’ve met does or has.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:52 |
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You’re a good man. I am too but I can’t help but be reminded of Bill Hicks talking about why he wouldn’t quit smoking: he lived in Manhattan and people said he’d get his sense of smell back. He assumed not only would the first thing he’d smell was a dead guy that had been freshly peed on and figured he’d keep smoking rather than experience that.
You mention cigarettes and death and the first thing that comes to mind is stand up comedy. I freely acknowledge I’m broken somehow. I’m sorry.
The first freshly dead person I’d ever seen was in an emergency room that I worked in during college. It was a woman close to my age, and while alive I can tell you that she was smoking hot. She was one of those people who are so good looking that you don’t ever see them anywhere aside from a screen or a magazine cover. Absolutely 10/10. The thing is though, she was a bit repulsive. I could recognize all the ingredients of someone who was attractive, but whatever instinct it is that kept our ancestors from eating the red berries (or whatever it is that might kill them) kicked in and I hard a hard time looking at her. That was part of my job — looking at her — as nobody knew who she was and I was tasked with trying to find out. It was a confusing battle in my mind trying to figure out why I felt so strongly like running and how she was pretty all at once and I remember it clearly.
I ended up finding out who she was but not how or why she died. When you get a mystery case like that you see all kinds of indignities. Among other things you’re checked to make sure you’re not overdosing on a suppository. Doctors are like a pit crew in their efficiency trying to figure out what’s gone wrong.
She was wealthy. Came from a good family. Educated. Pretty. Went out the same as your guy in the end though.
Seeing a dead person made me feel helpless. Sounds like you felt the same. Again, good on you for your compassion.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 19:54 |
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Smoking is awful, and I don’t condone it, because it’s awful and will kill you, but I’ve gotten further professionally smoking with bosses and bosses’ bosses than I ever have through actual work.
Also, I understand those feels. But let me tell you, if you ever plan on quitting completely, quitting smoking when you have a partner who smokes just isn’t happening.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:01 |
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I’ve used that Bill Hicks line so many times . Asking people “have you smelled this fucking place? Why would I want my sense of smell back?” is one of the things I miss most about New York.
Helpless is exactly the way to describe it. You sort of think that dead is dead, and I tell myself that regardless of what you believe, your body doesn’t matter when you die, but it’s palpable when someone dies under certain circumstances.
My mom used to work in an ER. It’s rough work. I remember her strictly forbidding me from going in to medicine, because every other doctor she knew was either clinically depressed or a drug addict.
Not my mom, though. She’s fucked up. I remember her once proudly telling me how in med school she had to do an autopsy on a toddler and one woman started crying and a guy threw up, but she thought it was “cool” because “it was like a person, but small.” That basically describes my childhood.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:03 |
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Yeah, it is more of a professional bonding thing than anything else. And even most of the time I just go outside so we can chat about work stuff while she smokes alone. For sure it’s better long-term that my girlfriend doesn’t smoke, and she’s very health-conscious. It was just a bit surprising. I’ve also noticed your last point with my own parents. When I was growing up they both smoked. My mom quit years ago because my stepdad doesn’t, while my dad and stepmom still do.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:04 |
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One of my jobs involves working with Bukharian Jews. They’re a very interesting people. They’re pretty accustomed to seeing dead bodies. Extremely welcoming if you’re apart of the community. Had a guy help me push start my motorcycle down the street once in 100+ degree weather.
A baseball teammate got shot to death while outside a party when I was a sophomore in high school. Kids threw him in a car and tried to rush him to the hospital but he was gone. Two other people were also shot and survived. That was a fucked up night.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:10 |
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Central Asian Jewry is fascinating. Lots of forced conversion, adopting new surnames, and practicing in private.
If I’m being completely honest, which I am, because I’ve been drinking, I’m very conscious to a lot of things, but I can’t get behind Palestinian causes. First because a lot see it as acceptable anti-semitism, but mostly because a fucking ton of Jews got displaced in the 20th century and managed to carry on without fucking shit up in Jordan, Syria, and Lebanon.
For the second paragraph, I can’t even imagine what that must have been like. God.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:22 |
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I remember one job where my boss would frequently start sentences with “while you were out smoking.” After a few months that changed to sending me to do things well above my position, because she realized that I could get people to pull strings for me.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:32 |
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I don’t want to share my version of this story. It’s not as cheerful.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:34 |
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:(
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:40 |
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Yeah, you ain’t kidding, buddy. I haven’t been the same since.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:41 |
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Yeah, I can see how it would have that effect.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 20:52 |
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Took a figure drawing class a little while ago and eventually it got to the anatomy section of the course. Which included seeing cadavers, they took us to a small room opened up two stainless steel tables and lifted out two corpses. There was an older man and women, it seemed kinda fucked up looking at someone lift the ribcage off of a body or see half a face and see the other half of it as muscle. Now I’m aware that that experience is much more pleasant than seeing someone who’s just died and especially the way you saw them, alone on the street. But for me what was most bothersome was their faces, it wasnt particularly scaring but I could see how it easily could be.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 21:05 |
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Yeah, these guys still practice a form of orthodox Judaism despite being cut off from other Jewish communities for almost a millenia. It’s pretty crazy. Also, ethnically most of them look like middle easterners which is nuts considering how long their families have been in central asia (somewhere around 1700 years).
I stay out of the hole Israel-Palestinian mess. I have no dog in the fight and there is a lot of hate on both sides. I had a Palestinian Christian professor in college whose family lost their land after Israel became a nation. She had some very interesting perspectives and experiences.
I’d go into this in greater detail but I’m mot drinking...yet. About to go get some Pappy Van Winkles with my pops.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:13 |
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Yeah, same. Life gets kinda screwy when start literally seeing what people are made of.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:14 |
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OP, this read some what like young Ernest Hemingway. You have a knack for subtle reflective narrative.
This is not a statement meant to detract from the core message. It is simply a pause to acknowledge talent.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:18 |
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Wow. That’s an awesome compliment. Thanks!
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:21 |
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Game recognizes game fam.
Never been to Uzbekistan and only flew through Kyrgyzstan on my way to the land of poppies, mountains, red beards, and fighting men.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:26 |
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I’m genuinely a bit jealous. I’m not crazy enough to go into Afghanistanon my own volition (although I know people who are), but damn, that’s pretty country.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:32 |
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Indeed, amazingly beautiful, harsh and unforgiving country. I much preferred the tribal elements that the Pashtun live by versus the commercialized blood feud between Shia-Shiite-Sunni in Iraq.
I might still say that I liked working and training in Jordan more then Afghanistan. The Jordanian, Emirates, and Saudis I met there carried themselves with honor I had not seen since Peshawar.
![]() 07/19/2017 at 23:48 |
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You might, or might not, like the books Heroes of the Age and Before Jihad. They were written by an anthropologist in the 90s. It basically explains why Afghanistan was a shitshow from the start and was bound to collapse in on itself.
Admittedly, all of my experience is with Central Asia and Iran, but I dig Emiratis and Jordanians. Saudis are kind of pricks, especially the dipshits I met in college, but I really appreciate the Jordanians and Emiratis (and the Qataris)
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:04 |
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Poor Qataris they are getting sold upriver for being too involved in international affairs that are not benefitting the Saudis they way they want right now. But then again the dumpster-fire-in-chief has been giving the Saudis everything they want on a silver veneered platter lately. Blind eye to human rights violations and mass civilian casualties? Sure thing, working a great deal. Extremely sophisticated military hardware for a HUMINT and counter insurgency situation in Yemen? You got it sheikh!
These politicians never seem to consider the wake they leave behind until it legitimately bites them in the ass.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:10 |
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On the one hand, the Qataris have played a bit fast and loose about who they let operate in the country. On the other, there’s the Saudis... yeah... but even Obama suppressed things to keep the Saudis happy, so I’m not holding my breath.
I’m genuinely hoping that the Iranian deal holds. They can be assholes, but they’re large enough to provide a balance to the Saudis and despite their asshole clerics, they’re not nearly as extreme.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:13 |
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I feel like the youth in Iran are going to help the nation turn a corner for the better. They seem better suited to conserving their culture and faith while simultaneously embracing the modern world, not unlike my opinion of the Jordanians.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:13 |
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And now he is remembered by a few more anonymous souls on the internet. Job done.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:16 |
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I know a lot of Iranians and I can confirm. Even the current citizens are good drinkers.
The sad irony about Jordan is that they came very close to having Arabia. But, of course, with the help of noted spy Kim Philby’s father, the British managed to give a shit ton of oil to a group of people who were effectively part of an extremist cult.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:17 |
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I do what I can, brah
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:31 |
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I think in my lifetime I will see a unified nation of Islamic peoples. And it could potentially be a nation of more than just demonized, “fundamentalist” people. I will always struggle to cope with Muslim treatment of women, lbgtq, and people of other faith, but I think if they are not lambasted with subversions of their religion the youth may be able to separate politics from Islam so that people can simply live without recourse.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 00:41 |
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I have such a hard time with this. I know so many Muslims who treat it like Catholicism, and I can’t help but think that’s the way forward. I’ve had such wonderful experience with generosity from people, that I can never conceive of fundamentalism as a given. I can’t help but blame people like the Saudis who make a point of exporting that shit, because I know full well that that’s not how people naturally act.
Seeing places like Syria, which used to be a safe bet if you wanted to visit the Middle East, collapse depresses me to no end. I think people tend to be more good than bad, but there’s not much you can do when the good all get killed off.
In the 11th century, the philosopher al-Ghazali was accused of heresy because he was a scientist who questioned doctrine m. His rebuttal was that if God made the world, then it’s heresy not to investigate it.
![]() 07/20/2017 at 06:16 |
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Word is bond.