Everybody Thinks I'm a Spy

I wrote a song yesterday. The title speaks for itself, but let me add two comments: It all started during my first weekend back in Crimea in September, when an elder in the Crimean Tatar community looked me straight in the eyes and said, "I know you're a spy. But it's ok, you don't have to admit it." I was too flustered to say anything in my defense, which probably led her to believe that I was, indeed, a spy. Just our little secret.

Accusations of such shady dealings have come up since, and not just at me. In November, I helped Joshua Kucera, a journalist reporting in Crimea to make some introductions. Afterwards, many of those to whom he was introduced asked me if he was a spy. No, no, no, I said, he's writing some articles for Slate (but it's true that he was once offered a gig by a Russian spook.)

Today's New York Times reports on a Russian spy case in Estonia which, frankly, would make me a little paranoid, too. 

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Also, still a few days left to catch some very rare music in New York City, straight from Hutsulschynna from where I'm writing this. Here's another plug for the Yara Arts Group Carpathian Mountain Winter Ritual Performance, which has been recommended by the Village Voice, New York Press, and Villager as the event to see this weekend.

Koliada

One things leads to another, and then you find yourself overdubbing sopilka tracks in a sublet room in the Carpathian Mountains.

Yes, I've recorded a Ukrainian Christmas carol (koliada) just in time for what they call "Polish Christmas" (which nobody really celebrates) here in Kosiv. It's a tune I've always liked, called "Nebo i Zemlia" ("Heaven and Earth"). My rendition features a banjo, a sopilka, and my congested-sounding voice. It was inspired largely by what I had on hand (call it necessity, call it realism), a little by nostalgia, a little by Hutsul music, and a little by the opening of a Grandaddy song that I really like. If you'd like to hear it, you can go to my long-neglected page at www.myspace.com/tsarinamaria.

Point of Clarification, or, What My Dissertation Might Be About

Nose deep in the L’viv Archives last week, I came across a 6-page essay written at the turn of the century by a L’vivan ethnographer, speculating on the commonalities between Hutsul-Carpathian and Caucasian cultures – both the high mountain dwelling wild people of their respective regions, known for their independent spirit, animist and superstitious beliefs. (This morning I was told to whisper the secret of my previous night’s bad dream out of my open window so it would float away and unburden me. I obeyed, but am not sure yet if it worked.)

The article is titled “The Carpathians and the Caucasus: Some Hypotheses About Ethnological Parallels.” The author’s cautious advancing of his hypotheses impressed me, given the frequently imperious tone of early anthropology. Gingerly, he suggests that future study of high mountains dwellers in numerous regions – including Taurida, future Crimea – might prove fruitful for ethnographers interested in the “halbwild” peoples of the various “civilized” empires.

Two days ago, my first day back in the Carpathians, my friend Marta from L’viv and I visited our sick-bed-bound friend Oksana (Hutsulka Ksenija) and her mother in their Hutsul home in Verkhovyna (where the girls are pretty as geese, as the song goes. Oksana, to be fair, is rather stunning.) After an evening of gossip and mulled wine, we awoke lazily to a Sunday breakfast of fresh cheese, sour cream and poppy seed rolls in the coziest wood-heated bedroom imaginable.

Afterwards, Marta and I left to wander in the mountains, which had been dusted with snow overnight. Behold:

We got quiet on the mountaintop, and I got to thinking (about my dissertation, of all things). Last week, I took pride in finally being able to articulate, in Ukrainian, to an ethnomusicology colleague from the Ivan Franko University, what I’m actually doing here, without having her blink and nod at me as if I was more than a little deranged. I’ve found myself delivering half-hearted explanations right and left lately, to people as dear as my kid brother (who, it was revealed in a phone conversation yesterday, had absolutely no clue why I’m here) and as distant and administrative as the IRB board (don’t ask). So I’m going to attempt to start up this blog again with a clarification, a small explanation of my project (and with hopefully less jargon than my dissertation proposal required).

Unlike the comparative project of the early 20th century armchair ethnographer, my project does not attempt to pin down similarities between the cultural traits of the Crimean Tatars and the Hutsuls (though I will admit that finding an article like that in a musty archive is totally thrilling, in the nerdiest possible sense). My project is to compare histories of exoticism, specifically how both groups have been the traditional wild people to some other, more powerful or more insecure (depending on how you look at it) group. Comparing the histories of exoticism between the Hutsuls and the Crimean Tatars is, admittedly, not the most obvious choice. Both groups are de facto “Ukrainian” (in the sense of citizenship) – at least this is what their post-Soviet passports say. But until the euphoria (and subsequent disenchantment) of the Orange Revolution effectively bonded these two groups in their political orientations, the Crimean Tatars and the Hutsuls had been the subjects of different histories in different empires, sometimes fighting against the same enemies, but often pitted against each other.

So, why these two groups? While distinct in ethnogensis, history and territory, Hutsuls, the superstitious, hard-drinking subsistence farmers to Poland and Austro-Hungary’s urban intellectuals, and Crimean Tatars, the perceived inheritors of Genghis Khan’s barbarism to the Russian Imperial gaze, are the two ethnic groups on the territory of contemporary Ukraine that are the most laden with stereotypes of “otherness” or, specifically, “wildness.” The interesting twist, in both cases, is that being exotic, or colorful, or unique, or wild, is an effective way to stimulate cultural revival vis-a-vis tourism and the heritage industry.

Yesterday, the curator at the Kosiv Hutsul Museum told me that she herself “didn’t realize how special her culture was” until she saw it on display at a festival in Warsaw, which convinced her that a top priority of the Hutsuls should be “to show their culture to the world.” Of course, once you leave the enclave, the world begins to meddle, and then debates about authenticity and representation begin.

Music, this thing that not only reflects but also creates culture, is my way into this whole project. Often, the debates that rage in traditional communities about how musical culture should be used - preserved or updated, institutionalized or hybridized - bear striking analogies to bigger questions about how minority and indigenous groups should be bracing against homogenization/assimilation while being realistic (and savvy) about living in the globalized 21st century. Which is why it is not wholly surprising that the rather famous Tafiychuk family of Hutsul musicians are caroling in New York City right now (and not, as I had hoped, in the Karpaty). So if you’re around in the city, you might want to check out the events that the Yara Arts Group is putting on this week at La MaMa (and tell me how it is):

Still the River Flows
Dec 26-28 – Fri- Sun
a new theatre piece by Yara Arts Group
featuring Koliadnyky of Kryvorivnia, Tafiychuk family,
Svitayana, Julian Kytasty, Yara artists and Lilia Pavlovsky and family
La MaMa Experimental Theatre, $25 children $10
74 East 4th St (between 2nd & 3rd Ave) New York (212) 475-7710

Hey, that’s a small start, I think!

It’s snowing outside. I’m going to bundle up and head into Kosiv proper to buy a tiny Christmas tree.
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From the sweaty internet cafe: Here's another photo from the top of the very chic ski resort Bukovel, where we happened upon this Hutsul ensemble caroling for some German television special. This is the only ski resort I've ever been to where men with trembitas (alpine horns) wander around drinking hot beer at the bottom of the slopes.

Romania: Party at the Palace

Greetings from Bucharest, Romania, where I am sitting opposite from Alison, who managed to find me off the train this afternoon and steered zombie-like me through the gray Bucharest streets into a nice Italian cafe with free WiFi. Phil Collins is playing on the loudspeakers, and I just drank a mint latte. 

We're here to open the "No Other Home" exhibit of photographs at the spectacular Cotroceni Palace as part of a European Council meeting that will be taking place next weekend.

Tonight, we're catching a train to Costanza on the Black Sea coast, the home to the biggest population of Crimean Tatars in Romania, where we'll try to do some more interviews and take some more photographs of the community there.

"No Other Home" on Triple Canopy!

The online magazine Triple Canopy has just published us! Read, look and listen here: www.canopycanopycanopy.com/4/no_other_home.

I'm also thrilled to write that we'll be presenting yet another version of the project in exhibition form in Bucharest, Romania in mid-December. Special thanks to Serdal Uteu for inviting us and coordinating the exhibition. If you happen to be in Bucharest, please come by!

Opens on December 12th, 2008
9 PM
Cotroceni Presidency Palace/ Palatul Cotroceni/Muzeul Cotroceni
Presidency Hall Room

We're also in the early stages of developing our own website, which will include more stories, more photos, and more music. So stay tuned.

Hard to believe, but I'm leaving my Simferopol home on Tuesday and soon venturing into Western Ukraine to spend the caroling season with the Hutsuls. Bracing for a Carpathian mountain winter...

Here's a neat map I was given recently. It contains a lot of the pre-deportation Tatar names of places (published in Istanbul in 1968). The color scheme, I think, may have been a coincidence.

Khayrli Presidentlerden olsun! Хаырлы Пресидентлерден олсун!

Early this morning, I came downstairs bursting with news about the presidential elections, so Shevqiye decided to make her famous apple pie to celebrate. The sun came out in Backhchisaray, and we clinked our black tea glasses for the new U.S. president.  I learned to say "May the President be successful" in Tatar. I would have been dancing in the streets outside the White House, but this was a pretty good way to celebrate too.

post-Turkey, pre-Bakhchisaray

Since we last checked in, I have been to Turkey. The country was rife with busts of Atatürk on the 85th anniversary of modern Turkish statehood.  

I also ran a 15 km race (part of the Istanbul Eurasia marathon, which boasts the distinction of being the only marathon to cover both Asia and Europe) in chilly torrential rain. It was an absurd experience, but being sopping wet and imagining the hot shower to come probably made me run faster than usual. I made reasonably good time and was done by 10 AM.
I visited Aya Sofia and the Sultanahmet (Blue) Mosque.
I met the Crimean Tatar diaspora in Istanbul and in Eskishehir, where the director rounded up a crowd for an evening of socializing, music and dance. I passed around photographs from Crimea, where most of these people have never been.
They sang Ey Guzel Kirim, a deportation era anthem, as their first song.
We took photographs and I was gifted plaques.

We visited Crimean Tatar villages near Eskishehir, where people invited us into their homes,
and told their stories of immigration to Turkey, usually shortly after the Crimean War in the mid-19th century.
It was difficult for me to tell apart Crimean Tatar and Turkish, but people say that Crimean Tatar is very well preserved in these villages.
These guys were out for a stroll.

These women wanted us to have coffee, but we were on our way back to town.

We visited an instrument maker in Eskishehir, where a PhD candidate in musicology sang gorgeous songs from the Ottoman Empire, accompanying himself on the oud, and a young instrument maker described the process of making the perfect instrument:

It was an incredible trip with a lot of information collected and many strong impressions formed in just a week. Next... the Romanian Crimean Tatar diaspora? Alison and I have been invited to come and present in mid-December on Crimean Tatar day in Romania. I hope it happens.

(So....I know, I know; it's been a long time since you last heard from me. Thank you to those of you who write to remind me to post. Believe me, it's been on my mind. But so many things have been happening - a visit from my uncle, interviews, a visit from my boyfriend, interviews, an attempt to follow American politics and Ukrainian politics, a visit to Lviv, interviews, a visit to Turkey, interviews - and no internet at home. Right now, I'm planted in the corner of a hip cafe on fashionable Pushkina vul. quickly uploading some photos in feverish time to the ambient eurotechno favored by this cafe to assuage my pangs of conscience over not being a more proactive blogger. A warning that things might get worse before they get better: I'm leaving my Simferopol home today for Bakhchisaray, which may make my internet accessibility even more limited, but maybe I'll get there and discover a signal. Ada Helbig was recently telling me about opening up her laptop in a Roma village near Uzhgorod and discovering that the village had provided free WiFi for anyone with a computer in the area.... Anyway, blog or not, one day, there will be a fat book.) 

The Tragedy on the Arabatska Strilka

Yesterday, the Crimean Tatar community commemorated the mass drowning of all of the Crimean Tatars who were not deported on May 18, 1944.

The reason these Crimean Tatars were overlooked? They lived on the narrow spit of land known as the "Arabatska Strilka"  ("strilka" = arrow) that stretches over 110 km from the Kherson oblast' in Ukraine down to the Azov coast in Eastern Crimea. The best image yielded from my very quick google search is above (we salute you, Wikipedia!) -- it's that little skinny dark blue part that looks like a Photoshop free-draw.

The somber day began with a prayer at the mosque in Generalskoye,

and then a caravan to the beach, where we assembled on a sand bar.


The local imam led a prayer,

and a local Ukrainian Orthodox priest lead a short panakhyda (death mass) in honor of the Slavs who were drowned for witnessing the crime.


Carnations and beans were tossed into the Azov Sea. It was a somber affair.

But day trip from Simferopol ended warmly, with an invitation for dinner (and to break the Ramadan fast for those who had not eaten all day) at a home in Dzhankoy. We watched wedding videos and I got leads on some musicians who I am told need to be recorded. On the drive home, I got to ride shotgun, and had a debate about religion and politics with the driver, a local community leader. It was an inconclusive but exciting debate, and it felt good to achieve a level of exchange almost untroubled by the fact that he spoke Russian and Tatar and I spoke fake Russian and Ukrainian.

Tonight, in honor of the last day of Ramadan, fried food is on the menu. In fact, I have less than hour to report to Milara's kitchen for cheburek duty, and I still need to mail things from the central post office, so this is me bracing for that and signing off. 

Crimean Tatar cookbooks for sale!

Hot off the Bakhchisaray presses, straight from Shevqiye Seytmemetov's family kitchen! Learn to make all your 26 favorite Crimean Tatar dishes, including Qashiq Ash, Chebureky, Sarma, Manty and Qurabiye!

If you'd like to purchase a copy (in Russian or in English) feel free to e-mail me your address and I'll arrange for it. The cost, including mailing from Ukraine, should be approximately $9. 

This is the kind of dinner party you can have, just imagine it:

And here are two photos from the Koktebel jazz fest which took place the past weekend, where we camped with all the Ukrainian hippies and their djembes...

and got to see a late-night fire-dancer even though we weren't VIPs.

Some roads lead to Simferopol

Yesterday afternoon, my first full day back in Simferopol, I sat down for a rest and a snack on a concrete slab on the side of Sevastopolskaya vulitsa and watched the traffic-clogged street move in fits and starts. I'd stopped into a magazin, where the lady in charge regarded me with what appeared to be scorn, and refused to reach for the plain packet of "Cossack's Fun" peanuts, instead offering me chicken or bacon flavored peanuts. I gave up trying for plain and took the chicken.

Oh, Simferopol. I'm easing in, taking my time, since that's the way in these parts. It's been lousy and raining outside, which resulted in a cancellation of my plans for today's meeting in Bakhchisaray. But happily, an invitation to a birthday party came in, and I've convinced a friend to roadtrip tomorrow to Koktebel' to check out the famous jazz festival going on this weekend. I'll miss Richard Galliano tonight, but catch Archie Schepp on Sunday.

And so next week the interviewing begins. I hope to start learning some more songs, take a few lessons in vocal style and maybe accordion if I can find a teacher willing to deal with an accordion-less student.

It's been fascinating to talk to folks here about the South Ossetian conflict, as you might imagine. I had a sense of how different the American and Russian media were spinning the conflict while in the states, but on the ground, the difference is really palpable. Western analyses of the tensions in Crimea about to bubble over seemed alarmist to me while in the US, and compared to how people here have been talking about it to me that feeling seems justified: the consensus from those I've spoken to seems to be that Crimeans aren't looking for war, but they think Russia did right in protecting its citizens in Tskhinvali. For those that opposed the Orange Revolution, Saakashvili's misstep (or response to Russian threats) and the recent (albeit familiar) political turmoil in Ukraine has only hardened convictions about Yushchenko as American puppet, in the same league of incompetence as the Georgian leader. But then, I haven't spoken to politicians here, and some Tatars I've talked to certainly regard Russia's recent meddling with more cynicism than others. Here's some of the latest in the Western press -- more, it appears, of Russia as provocateur. (I keep wondering why there hasn't been more press about the glaring example of Chechnya.)

Let's shift to a bit of good news: the online journal Triple Canopy is going to publish a version of our No Other Home project! So we're working on getting that together for next month's issue. 

No Other Home: The Crimean Tatars, a preview

A long hiatus from the blog, but online today to make sure you know about the preview of the presentation that Alison Cartwright and I are developing.

If you're in New York, please come to the Harriman Institute on Tuesday evening to see a first draft of the presentation:

And if you're in Washington DC, please consider joining us on Friday evening.

My six weeks in the states flew and I'm preparing for my return to Crimea next weekend. Once back in Simferopol, I expect this blog to start up again, so stay tuned.

To Sheshory, but not in Sheshory

In L'viv today and had a most wonderful and remarkably affordable flight on WizzAir, which launched its Ukraine service today (linking Kyiv, Odesa, Simferopol, and Lviv - I am going to be their biggest cheerleader). Since it was the kickoff morning, our obviously self-conscious flight attendants gave us complimentary beverages and snacks and we appaluded when we touched down in L'viv. What a nice experience for $10.

Tonight, off to the Sheshory "music and landart festival" which no longer takes place in Sheshory ( a small Carpathian village) but rather in Podillia. I'm taking a train to Vinnytsia with my friends from the Les Kurbas Theater and Hutsuls who will be performing. I have a toothbrush, a blanket, a change of clothes, and a sopilka in my bag. I expect there will be stories to tell.

A Surprise Appearance

The news from QHA today reports on a gathering that occurred yesterday in Ay Serez (now known as Mizhdurechia):

Вчера, 06 июля, в старинном крымскотатарском селе Ай-Cерез (Междуречье), что неподалеку от Судака, состоялась «Койдешлер корюшюв» (встреча односельчан). Затерянное в горах село примечательно тем, что является малой родиной двух лидеров крымскотатарского народа – Мустафы Джемилева и Рефата Чубарова. 
С самого утра в село, к зданию старой мечети начали съезжаться уроженцы Ай-Cереза и их потомки. В общей сложности на встречу односельчан собралось около 500 человек. Мероприятие было организовано сельским междлисом (председатель Аблямит Ибраим) при поддержке предпринимателей-айсерезцев. Активное участие в организации встречи принял и первый заместитель председателя Меджлиса крымскотатарского народа Рефат Чубаров. 
Перед односельчанами выступили их земляки – Председатель Меджлиса крымскотатарского народа Мустафа Джемилев и его заместитель Рефат Чубаров. В своих выступлениях они призвали айсерезцев заботиться о единстве крымскотатарского народа, чтить его культуру, язык, веру. Р. Чубаров, также, подчеркнул, что только сами айсерезцы могут возродить свое родное село, для чего необходимо возвращаться в Ай-Серез, строить дома, растить здесь детей. Как известно, сам Рефат Чубаров, вместе с братом Эльведдином, в прошлом году сумели купить старый дом в родном селе и сейчас обустраивают его. 
Хорошей новостью для айсерезцев стало сообщение о том, что получены решения о возврате здания мечети мусульманам села, и вскоре начнется работа по ее восстановлению. 
Для айсерезцев, собравшихся в этот праздничный день выступил ансамбль «Макъам» под руководством Джемиля Карикова, пели народные любимцы Рустем Мемет и Афизе Караса. Приятной неожиданностью стало выступление гостьи из США Марии Соневицки, докторанта Колумбийского университета, приехавшей изучать крымскотатарскую музыку. К радости айсерезцев и гостей праздника Мария исполнила крымскотатарскую народную песню, чем вызвала бурю аплодисментов в свою честь. 
Даже хлынувший ливень не испортил праздник собравшимся односельчанам. 
Также, с днем села айсерезцев приветствовали ветеран крымскотатарского национального движения Зампира Асан и председатель Сакского регионального меджлиса Зевджет Къуртумер, принявшие самое деятельное участие в проведении встречи. 
Встреча закончилась обещаниями обязательно встретиться в Ай-Серезе в следующем году.

Here is my surprise appearance. A surprise to me, for sure. I was backed by a terrific band - Makam - though, which was also a pleasant surprise. Strangely, this is the second time in two weeks that I have found myself with microphone in hand in front of a band and a crowd of many Crimean Tatars. Last week, there was a similar moment at a wedding. I guess this is some variation on the participant observer paradigm: performer/observer?

www.alisoncartwright.com

Oh! And please check out Alison Cartwright's website to see some of the photos from our expeditions in May! (A sincere thanks to the U.S.-Ukraine Business Council for providing funding for that round of shooting and travelling.) Text, audio, and exhibitions are all in the works...

Kurortniy Reyon

Back to Crimea and so are the tourists. The Kyiv Post reports that "while high cost, poor service and unsanitary conditions are turning some summer vacationers away from Crimea in favor of such destinations as Egypt and Turkey, the fact remains that 6 million people are expected to visit the still-beautiful peninsula this year." Still beautiful, but a little trashed. Sounds great, huh?

(My mother visited me here last week and was positively outraged at the amount of trash just lying around. She immediately stopped a lady selling newspapers on the beach to find out which newspaper is most widely read in Sevastopol and plans to write a letter castigating the citizenry. And you wonder where I get my energy from...)

In less than 48 hours back in Simferopol, I managed to get pulled back in to the Tatar community as if I had never left. Attended a wedding near Bakhchisaray, marked the 30th Anniversary of Musa Mamut's self-immolation at his burial site near Simferopol, chatted with Ukrainian nationalists, and have a whole new roster of musicians to interview.

Also, while at Kraina Mriy in Kyiv, I met the inspiring organizers of a summer camp called the "Chemistry of Tolerance," taking place in Bakhchisaray from July 11-21. A friend told me on the phone earlier today about how she and a group of Ukrainian-speaking students got kicked out of an internet cafe in Sevastopol recently for... speaking Ukrainian. (Luckily, the teenagers at the village internet shack from which I am currently writing seem to find my Ukrainian to be funny and harmless.) Point being, tolerance is a wise thing to spread around in these parts, so please check them out: www.chemistryoftolerance.org.

A Nod to Wordsworth

I am restoring my powers in Krakow.

For almost 48 glorious hours I have read, walked, visited with my wonderful extended extended cousin, and attempted to reflect tranquilly on the last month of unstoppable, intense work. There's a lot more tranquility to be recollected before the project gets edited and written, but I am, at this point, at least able to remember half of what Alison and I did in our weeks of work.

Alison flew out of Kyiv a few days ago with something like more than 10,000 images stored on various external hard drives. I have something like 40 hours of recorded interviews and songs and a notebook full of notes. We plan to cyber-manage all that information in the coming weeks, and I hope to update this blog occasionally with more images from our weeks of interviewing and travelling in Crimea in May. Our final day of documentation, on the Day of Deportation (May 18th) in Simferopol, felt like a very peculiar episode of "This Is Your Life." As Alison and I forged through the crowds in search of the ever-elusive Milara-odzha, we ran across countless people whom we had interviewed and photographed in the previous weeks all over Crimea.

Tonight, I will travel to Berlin where Susan and I will kick off our slapdash Debutante Hour European tour, and then meander our way down to Italy, across to Poland, and then back to Ukraine, where we will finish out with a performance at the Les Kurbas Theater in L'viv. Then, I will go back to Crimea, where I will begin another 6 weeks of research generously supported by an SSRC pre-dissertation fellowship.

More to come...

Crimea Looks Good

Alison has been shooting lots of photos. And I have been taking interviews. We have been drinking coffee. Four or five times a day.

We have also been attending Khydyrlez celebrations, the annual Crimean Tatar May celebration of strength and vitality on the occasion of two prophets meeting. Alison manages to get photos of everything while I stand around and shmooze.

At Khydyrlez celebrations, there is music and dance.

There are tests of strength.

There is a lot of hanging out with old friends:

Sometimes, when Khydyrlez takes place on a holy site, there are wishing trees.

There is always plov.

We have also started making the rounds to a variety of Crimean Tatar homes, including "vremianky" (from the Russian время meaning time, indicating that these homes are temporary or, in many cases, just markers to land claims waiting to be legalized). Today we photographed a family in Доброе, outside of Simferopol, who have been living in their vremianka since December. Theirs are the only kids on the block so far.

We have travelled to pre-deportation homes, such as this young aspiring politician in front of his grandfather's house (now occupied by a Slavic family).

We have been fortunate to visit the most prominent Tatar politician, Mustafa Dzhemilev, in his home.

We have photographed families that are still building, families done building, and families about to start building. We have recorded stories of deportation and repatriation and some beautiful songs. 

And I have gotten a little time to soak up some sunlight and pose.

More to come.

Indigenous People

The UN Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues, an advisory body to ECOSOC, is in the closing days of its seventh session in New York City. Crimean Tatars are acknowledged as an indigenous people in Ukraine by the international community and have sent representatives. But Ukraine has dragged its feet for almost 18 years on passing a law designating the Crimean Tatars as an indigenous people of Ukraine and awarding them the rights that come with that designation according to international guidelines.

There are a lot of ways to speculate about why this law has failed to be passed in Ukraine and in Crimea. If you read the UN Declaration on the Rights of Indigenous People, you might get some ideas. (Land reparations is a big one.) Also, Natalya Belitser has written some excellent articles that summarize the "history of the political debate" over Crimean Tatar indigenous status. As of a few weeks ago, there were rumors that the law was going to be coming up in the Verkhovna Rada again soon, though I have also heard criticisms about the various ways in which the law has been defanged and made empty through the drawn out parliamentary process. 

Nadir Bekir, the head of an organization called the Foundation for the Research and Support of the Indigenous People of Crimea (which includes Crimean Tatars, Karaimy, and Krymchaky), shared the following appeal from a member of his organization. I don't think it expresses the voice of all Crimean Tatars, but it's one loud voice among many. What follows is Mr. Muybeyyin Batu Altan's presentation to the UNPFII in New York, which ends with the plea to "Don't let Crimea become Ukraine's Tibet!" Strong words.

THE CRIMEAN TATARS’ STATEMENT

Madam chairperson, esteemed delegates and observers!

I would like to express my thanks and appreciation to the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues for giving our organization this opportunity to report on the ongoing human rights violations perpetrated against the Crimean Tatars, one of the indigenous peoples of Crimea.

It was our sincere hope that we would report some positive developments on the status of Crimean Tatars’ human rights issues in Crimea. We are saddened to report, madam chairperson, that the human rights violations against the indigenous people of Crimea, the Crimean Tatars has significantly increased. Since our last report to this honorable forum, not only our people were attacked and beaten, but our cemeteries were also vandalized and desecrated.

On November 1, 2007, a large group of Russian paramilitary group called “Sevastopol Cossacks” armed with clubs and other weapons, attacked Crimean Tatars on Balaklava Street in Simferopol, Crimea. There were 200 “Berkut” special forces present, but no arrest was made during or after the attack.

On November 6, 2007, a 600 strong “Berkut” special militia forces attacked and destroyed small Crimean Tatar business establishments in Ai-Petri, Yalta. Crimean Tatar businessmen and their supporters were severely beaten by “Berkut” forces, four of them needed hospitalization.

Madam chairperson, barely three months had elapsed since the “Berkut”, the special Ukrainian militia forces attacked and brutally beat Crimean Tatars in November of 2007 Ai-Petri, near Yalta, and destroyed their small business establishments. The same militia forces were on site during the Balaklava Street attack on Crimean Tatars by the Sevastopol Cossacks on November 1, 2007.

While Crimean Tatars were yet to recover from the shock of the aforementioned attacks, in early hours on February 10, 2008 in town of Seitler (Nzynyohirsky) in Crimea, a group of vandals broke into the Crimean Tatar Muslim cemetery, killed the watchdog and then ransacked and desecrated 270 Crimean Tatar headstones.

The ink on our last “Appeal to World Public” and to Ukrainian government in particular, to stop the violent attacks on Crimean Tatars and their sacred places had not dried yet when we received reports and photographs of yet another vicious attack on Crimean Tatar Muslim cemetery in Chistenkoe, near Simferopol on April 11, 2008. This news came just a day after 1000 Ukrainian “Berkut “ special militia forces forcibly evicted 16 Crimean Tatar families who after almost ten years of waiting had no other choice but occupy the building and lived in that unfinished building on Yubileynaya Street in Alushta.

One photograph of the Chistenkoe attack, among several sent to us instantaneously by Nadir Bekir, president of Foundation of Research and Support of Indigenous Peoples of Crimea stands out as it conveys the dangerous and critical ethnic situation in Crimea. Right behind the vandalized and destroyed Muslim headstones, on the wall one sees a graffiti written in red ink that reads as follows:

“TATARI VON IS KRIMA!- TATARS GET OUT OF CRIMEA!”. Next to this ultimatum a hanging noose and next to it the Crimean Tatar national symbol “Tarak Tamga” is crossed off. As we stated in our previous appeal to world public, this vicious attack is just a continuation of series of well planned attacks on the indigenous people of Crimea, the Crimean Tatars, by the chauvinist forces who are determined to destabilize the peaceful Crimean peninsula. As always, the authorities expressed their sadness and act as if they are shocked by these barbaric

desecrations of Crimean Tatar cemeteries, yet so far the perpetrators are not arrested and have not brought to justice. We are puzzled to see thousands of “Berkut” special militia forces marching in to evict 16 innocent Crimean Tatar families, but our cemeteries after numerous attacks still remain unprotected. What are the authorities waiting for? Are they waiting for these hoodlums to attack the Crimean Tatar homes?

These vicious attacks are just continuation of series of attacks on the indigenous people of Crimea, Crimean Tatars, by the chauvinist forces who are determined to destabilize the peaceful Crimean peninsula.

We are afraid that Crimean Tatars’ patient is running thin, and after this latest attack on their cemetery they began to ask their leaders about taking the safety and protection of their families and properties into their own hands. Once again the Crimean Tatar leaders advised against it and asked Crimean Tatars to remain calm and patient. The Crimean Tatar leaders again asked their people to “turn the other cheek” to avoid bloodshed. But how long can they keep “turning the other cheek?” Crimean Tatars’ patience is running out. The peaceful cry of the Crimean Tatars always has been “We have no other homeland, but Crimea” They have no other place to go, they are in their ancestral homeland to stay, and their goal is to coexist there peacefully with all other nationalities as a people and a nation.

Madam chairperson, we apologize if these are repetitious, we have no choice but repeat our demand year after year as the human rights conditions have not changed significantly in the past sixteen years. We, therefore, once again appeal to the United Nations Organization and world public for support of the Crimean Tatars’ always peaceful national struggle for their human and national rights. We also ask the Permanent Forum on Indigenous Issues to join us in our appeal to the Ukrainian National government for an immediate:

Restoration of the human and national rights of the Crimean Tatar people!
Recognition of the Crimean Tatars as indigenous people of the Crimea!
Recognition of the Crimean Tatar National Mejlis as the de Jure representative of the Crimean Tatar people!
Recognition of the Crimean Tatar language as one of the official languages of the Autonomous Republic of Crimea!
Redress all the Crimean Tatar losses including land, homes and other properties!
Return of all Crimean Tatars [living in exile] to their ancestral homeland under government sponsorship, and help them resettle in Crimea, their ancestral homeland!
Protection and Safety of our sacred places, our cemeteries so our deceased may rest in peace!

CRIMEAN TATARS HAVE NO OTHER HOMELAND, BUT CRIMEA! DON’T LET CRIMEA BECOME UKRAINE’S TIBET! HELP US MAKE CRIMEA OUR PEACEFUL HOMELAND AGAIN!

Thank you, madam chairperson!

Mubeyyin Batu Altan

Research and Support of Indigenous Peoples of Crimea Foundation

batu@prodigy.net

April 21, 2008

Field Report

Well, I have solidified my relationship with the fruit-stand-lady. The fruit-stand-lady-by-the-Salgir-river has decided to trust the foreigner-running-in-a-bright-red-Canadian-hoodie. My casual waves upon arriving and leaving the Salgir river have led up to this responsibility: I am entrusted to guard the fruit stand while the lady makes a dash for the loo. My reward upon her return? A banana.

One could not ask for a more mutually agreeable relationship. I get potassium. She gets some relief. 

More importantly, I can say that the last week has been positively fruitful (sorry) from the standpoint of fieldwork. I have met some fascinating people, heard many incredible stories, and recorded some beautiful music.

Last week, I interviewed DJ Bebek, a prominent Crimean Tatar electronic musician whose debut album Deportacia piqued my interest in my first weeks in Simferopol. I also interviewed Enver Seit-Abdulov, an accomplished Crimean Tatar classical bayan player who comes from a line of Tatar musicians. His mother was recorded on this LP, a compilation of Crimean Tatar music recorded in Uzbekistan after Khrushchev's secret apologies for Stalin loosened things up a little bit.

I sat in with the Crimean Tatar student orchestra at KIPU, which is just getting off the ground.

Yesterday was big: I interviewed Fevzi Aliev at his home in Kamianka, one of the first Tatar settlements outside of Simferopol. 

He is a towering figure in Crimean Tatar folk and popular music, a composer and performer, and the author of an impressive Anthology of Crimean Tatar Folk Music. He is also incredibly lively and funny, and even played a Ukrainian song that he wrote last year for me at his piano. Here he is demonstrating how it was back in the day when you appeared on Soviet television. (No dancing around like the kids today do.)

Then, I met up with Milara-odzha and we traveled to the Tatar settlement in Maryna outside of Simferopol. Here's a photo of the corner store and the mosque being built.

We went to Maryna to record the story of Nariman Umerov, an octogenarian whose life of hardships is impossible to comprehend when face to face with his humor and charm. (Milara-odzha wanted to write his story up for an upcoming issue of the Avdet newspaper, since the Day of Deportation is coming up on May 18th. It was only after an hour of listening that we learned he was an accordion player. That's his photo at the top.)

Conscripted as a Nazi Ostarbeiter at the age of 14, escaped from the camp outside of Berlin in 1944, subsequently and suddenly handed a gun and integrated into the Red Army (where he eventually became a decorated hero), then exiled to Uzbekistan in the 1950s, reunited with his sisters (who survived the deportation). He told us of how he made his living as a musician (an accordion accompanist in schools and orphanages in Uzbekistan) through complete luck. We heard all the way up to the house that he, his wife and their sons built with their own hands in Maryna in the 1990s. Here are some of his awards and medals.

Today, I had the great honor to meet Mustafa Dzhemilev, the leader of the Crimean Tatar political movement, a Soviet Gulag survivor, and an eminent advocate for human and indigenous rights. One of the most surprising things to come of our meeting was his offer to make me a CD of Crimean Tatar music. I am supposed to pick it up tomorrow. 

I continue to be astounded by the generosity and hospitality of people at every turn.

There are pages just screaming to be written about each name I've just dropped, but it is too late in the day and there are too many field notes that need to get jotted down before they fly out of my head to do that just yet. Oh, but one day...