Дил розларим сизга армугон!
Дилсора Фозилова
Dilsora Fozilova

2/3/2013 9:06:31 AM
Imagery in the Shakespeare’s sonnet “That Time of Year”

Images are the pictures a poet draws in the mind’s eye of the reader through his words. Sometimes these images do not explicitly contain the meaning of the words used. Rather, they hold implicit meanings which the reader attempts to interpret and ascertain. Shakespeare’s "That Time of Year" is a great poem through which to analyse imagery. The beauty of this poem is that there are three quatrains in the poem and each of them holds amazing metaphors. And all three metaphors signify one theme – aging, signs of the last stage of the life.

In first verse Shakespeare talks about a certain time of year. When reading these lines the reader will likely feel the thrilling whisper of the author, saying, “That’s where I am. This is the stage of my life I am talking about”
“That time of year thou mayst in me behold
When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang” (Bevington pp-889)
The green leaves are turned to yellow and fall from the branches. Its late fall. This image represents author’s dreams, wishes and hopes those slowly turned yellow and fall from the branch. It’s a hopeless time of his life.
“Upon those boughs which shake against the cold,
Bare ruin’d choirs, where late the sweet birds sang.”
The author is comparing his body to a tree, which lost its leaves; shaking and trembling against the cold and there are no more singing birds around. It is lonely and cold…

In the second verse he is comparing his aging with the twilight of the day.
“In me thou seest the twilight of such day
As after sunset fadeth in the west,” (Bevington pp-889)
It is be found just before nightfall - after the sun sank in the west. The day is over but some dim light from the setting sun still remains.
“Which by and by black night doth take away,
Death’s second self, that seals up all in rest.” (Bevington pp-889)
The author knows the black night soon will be upon him. The coming night is dark; it is lifeless like a death, which puts everyone to sleep. This quatrain makes me feel, that speaker is ready for his own ending, and he talks about it with very powerful images.

In his third metaphor Shakespeare draws the image of the dying fire:
“In me thou see’st the glowing of such fire
That on the ashes of his youth doth lie,” (Bevington pp-889)
As the fire dies beautiful red coals slowly sink into the ashes. The author is saying his youth once was like bright flames. Now, however, the shimmering coals are lying on his youth.
“As the death-bed whereon it must expire”
As the fire is about to die, ashes are covering it. The image inside the image, fire is in its “death-bed”. There is another philosophical meaning in the last line of the quatrain.
“Consumed with that which it was nourish’d by” (Bevington pp-889)
The fire that is being consumed by nature was nourished by nature itself. Also this line explains his way of thinking about aging. He was born, grew up, lived his life and got old and is now going to die by the power of nature. This poem was addressed to someone who loves author very much,
“This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong,
To love that well which thou must leave ere long.” (Bevington pp-889)
Speaker says to his beloved “you must sense the changes and the signs of death and it will make your love stronger. Because you know there is not much time for love left, soon death will part us”
Shakespeare’s this sonnet contains some beautiful imagery which gives life to it’s theme of aging.

*Bevington, David. Ed. The Necessary Shakespeare. Third Edition. United States: Pearson Educaton, Inc, 2009. pp-889. Web. 24 Oct. 2011. .
(Давомини укинг...)

2/3/2013 9:01:35 AM
A Doll for my Little Sister

I was waiting for the long weekend to buy flower baskets to arrange on the sides of the entrance door. The weather forecast predicted frost for Monday night, and it rained all day on Tuesday. On Wednesday I didn’t have my afternoon lecture at the university, so I decided to shop for my baskets. On my way, I stopped and got my mail from the mailbox. Besides my provincial and federal student loan confirmation, there was an envelope from Edmonton Police. I could feel the pit of my stomach tighten with dread. I had never received mail that pleased me from the EPS. I sat in the car anxiously and opened the envelope. As soon as I saw the picture, indistinct apart from the license plate of my Ford Escape on the road, my eyes searched for the amount required to pay for speeding.
“One hundred and forty-five dollars?”
“When did I speed?”
“Damn it!” I forcefully shoved the letter into the glove box above the passenger seat and put my head against the steering wheel. I was ready to cry.
I quickly came to the realization that one-hundred and forty-five dollars was quite a bit of money while I was still a student at the university, unemployed, and having the responsibility of taking care an immense mortgage. I then shifted towards anger, decrying that the police service is unreal. I again scanned the letter and pictured the intersection where I had been caught speeding – 14 km an hour over the limit.” I even didn’t know that the speed limit at the intersection of 118 Avenue and 122nd Street was only 50 km an hour. As I walked into the Superstore I was thinking of different ways of cutting some expenses to pay off my speeding ticket. Maybe I should skip buying flower baskets this summer. I rationalized that Alberta’s non-existent summers didn’t warrant baskets. Maybe I should buy a few cheap small flower cones and make my own baskets to make up for the speeding ticket. That way I will be able to balance out the speeding ticket fee.
I grabbed some necessary groceries and walked to the checkout. As I stood behind an older woman, I heard a little boy talking to the cashier. His voice was like jingle bells. I looked over the shoulder of the older woman to see the cashier handing this little boy his money back; he couldn’t have been more than 5 or 6 years old. The young cashier girl said,
"I’m sorry, but you don’t have enough money to buy this doll.’’
The boy looked crestfallen and turned to the older lady.
’’Granny, are you sure I don’t have enough money?’’
’’You know that you don’t have enough money to buy this doll, my dear" - she replied. She then asked him to wait for a minute while she picked up something she forgot to get. She left quickly.
The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him whom he wished to give this doll to.
"It’s the doll that my sister loved the most and wanted so much for Christmas. She was sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her".
"Maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her after all, and maybe you should not worry". I smiled.
"But…” He stammered, with dejection in his eyes.
"Santa Claus can’t bring it to her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there". His eyes began to well up with tears.
"My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy says that mommy is going to see God very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister.’’ He wiped his nose with his forearm.
My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and firmly said,
"I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from shopping". Then he pulled a photo of himself at the playground from the pocket of his sweater and showed me. He looked very cheerful in the picture; he was laughing and spraying water at someone.
"I want mommy to take my picture with her so she won’t forget me. I love my mommy and I wish she didn’t have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister". He wiped a teardrop from his cheek with his sleeve.
Then remembering the doll, he looked down at it again and became very quiet. I quickly reached for my wallet and grabbed a twenty dollar bill.
"I suppose we should check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll!’’ I said.
"Okay” he replied with doubtful tone. "I hope I do have enough". I added my money to his without him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll, with change left over. He didn’t get excited, but his bewildered eyes were full of appreciation.
“Thank you God for giving me enough money!” The tone of his voice was so innocent and full of faith. Then he looked at me and added,
"I asked last night, before I went to sleep for God to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so my mommy could give it to my sister. He heard me! I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn’t dare ask God for too much. But he gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose anyways. My mommy loves white roses.”
I could not fight my tears anymore and looked away to hide them from the boy. He clasped one of his small hands so tightly around the money, staring at the doll in the other. A few minutes later, while the cashier was scanning through my groceries, the old lady finally returned to the line. I paid for my groceries and left in a totally different state of mind from when I entered the supermarket.
My heart was heavy like a winter jacket that had been forgotten outside in the frosty, rainy night. My emotions were so unstable and my feelings so ambivalent: for a moment life seemed too short and precious, and for another, unfair with too much heartache. I cried intermittently making my way through the garden centre. I bought two baskets of flowers without worrying about my speeding ticket.
I found myself wishing I could know what happened to the boy’s mom and sister. I unconsciously and irrationally decided they had been in a car accident, and felt immense guilt for speeding. When I got home I found myself digging into local news websites, wishing to find anything related to that little boy’s family. I knew discovering the reason for the little boy’s loss would not change anything, but for an unknown reason I was eager to find out.
The next morning I went to my garage and started to go through the recycled newspapers. First, I found an article in a week-old local newspaper which mentioned a drunken man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The little girl died right away and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to continue life support because the young woman would not be able to recover from her coma.
My heart started to beat faster. It was a clue to the mystery. I learned her name and I had no doubt that the young woman was the boy’s mom and the little girl his sister.
“But when did she die?” “Maybe there are more articles about the accident?” “Maybe someone wrote something about the faithful little boy the woman left behind?” I kept going through piles of newspapers. I couldn’t find anything else, but when I searched her name on Google I found a few stories related to her case. Also, I got to know that the young woman had passed away and her funeral was taking place at the Robertson-Wesley United Church on Thursday. I checked the calendar on my desktop in a rush. It was Thursday.
I felt an overwhelming compulsion to go – white roses in hand; I went to the funeral home where the body of the young woman was present so people could pay their last respects. The church was tall and elegant. Inside the church, two entrances were decorated with beautiful flowers – reminiscent of heaven. Even the smell inside the church felt so delightful. The huge room was full of people. Perhaps the same people who sent the little angel to heaven with their tears and prayers were sending her mom to be with her.
As I was not Christian, I went to church only a few times in my life and this was the first time I had gone to a funeral. I felt nervous. I looked around secretly, worried if anyone would ask why I was there. I didn’t know anyone here. I grabbed a brochure beside the entrance and quietly walked to the last pews. A photograph of her with the little girl was on the brochure. Both were so beautiful and smiling. The woman had long blonde hair and the little girl had golden blonde hair as well. Inside the brochure, there was a poem and some information about the service.
God saw you getting tired
When a cure was not to be
So He closed his arms
Around you and whispered
“Come to Me”
You didn’t deserve what
You went through,
So He gave you rest.
God’s garden must be beautiful,
He only takes the best.
And when we saw you sleeping
So peaceful and free from pain,
We could not wish you back to suffer that again.
But you will always be missed and loved!
The ceremony was beautifully conducted. I had never witnessed a Christian funeral ceremony; maybe this was the way funerals take place all the time, but being new to Canada, I did not know much about Canadian culture and Christian faith. The brother of the deceased read a eulogy. He told some stories of her childhood; everyone laughed and cried at the same time. It was long and heartbreaking. During his speech, her brother had to continually pause as he couldn’t control his tears.
After all the funerary services were completed, people started to walk past the casket and pay their respect. She was there, peacefully lying, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the church, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed forever. The love that the little boy had for his mother and sister is still, to this day, hard to conceive of, and in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.
(Давомини укинг...)

2/3/2013 9:01:15 AM
Finding a Piece of my Homeland at the Muttart Conservatory

Every time I drove by, I wondered what those imposing glass pyramids were shining in the river valley. “Museum” said someone once with a dreadfully monotonous tone. Since then, I stopped wondering about it. I never suspected one day I would find a beautiful oasis in those glass pyramids that connects me to my beloved homeland.
Even before I entered the temperate place, a rainforest environment with orchids, sub-tropical plants and lush greenery – I smelled the abundant aroma of peach, apple, fig and pomegranate trees mixed with the smell of the moist soil. It was extraordinary… the breeze alone coming from that room could awaken my childhood memories.

It was after my tenth birthday and first spring after my dad’s death. One sunny morning in late March, I woke up from the noise of birds in our garden. Without thinking, I got up and walked from my bedroom to the long corridor with my pajamas still on. I pushed the double door that opened to our garden and shielded my eyes with my left arm. It was too bright for my sleepy eyes. The morning light cast a long shadow of my body on the corridor floor. And this aroma…I deeply breathed in the morning air with my eyes closed. It felt incredibly pleasant. I walked into the garden barefooted. The stone sidewalk was warm, the sun had already been beating down upon it for hours before I’d woken up and my feet welcomed the warmth of it. A light wind was tenderly shaking the top branches of the trees. Cherry, apricot, and apple trees were covered with white flowers just like a bride wearing a white wedding dress. There were many different flowerbeds in the middle of the garden. The commanding and wide fruit trees encircled the whole garden. I quietly walked towards the colorful poppy island in the centre of the garden and I laid on the sidewalk. The white petals from the apple and apricot trees were dancing in the air. I felt like my dad’s spirit was also flying in the air with those petals. I closed my eyes and listened to the sound of water from the stream that cut through our garden. I was surrounded by a splendor which words are not enough to describe.

The temperate environment of the pyramid evoked memories I didn’t realize that were still alive. The view was just like a stolen piece of my homeland. I was born in Bukhara, one of the ancient cities of Uzbekistan. Bukhara has long and hot summers and short but cold winters. The long Albertan winters made me deeply appreciate the climate and natural landscape of my country.
I often craved the smell of the earth after the morning rain; I craved the sweet aroma of peach, apricot and pomegranate trees in harvesting season. Snowflakes remind me of the flying petals in the air. Many times I locked myself in my bedroom and went through the old pictures from my hometown. Those pictures helped me to find peace in my anxious heart. Perhaps it was just a psychological escape from the melancholy but I didn’t know any other way to deal with my sadness.

A huge pomegranate tree was growing right beside the entrance of this temperate environment didn’t have any flowers or fruits but still looked like and smelled like the ones we had in our garden. There also was a fig tree that was bigger and had a stronger body than what we had in Bukhara. Perhaps people in my country didn’t allow them to get too big and strong, otherwise it would be too difficult to protect them from the cold. Usually people would cut the young sub-tropical trees when they are still young; about twenty centimeters up from the ground, to make the side branches grow stronger. Fig and pomegranate trees are very vulnerable to cold and we had to cover them with a sizable amount of dirt in winter.

As I walked further, my eyes caught the blossomed Nargis flowers around the waterfall and I went closer. In my town people believe that Nargis’ brings bad luck. They say Nargis represents the evil-hearted, beautiful princess who causes a lot of grief to men. As Nargis’ have hollow stems, I heard someone saying small poisonous snakes live in the stems of the Nargis’. One of my favorite poets wrote a poem that says “Even if that snake stabs his poisonous teeth, let me press my lips on your petals my unfaithful Nargis”. I always laughed, why every beautiful living thing must epitomize unfaithfulness? There was something surprising in every step in Muttart. I felt very emotional and attached. I wanted to touch every plant, and smell every flower. While I was driving away, I felt the pleasure of curing homesickness. Discovering the living image of my motherland in the middle of Edmonton was one of the most astonishing experiences I’ve had since I moved to Canada.
(Давомини укинг...)

1/12/2013 1:17:16 PM
Falling from the Global Scope: What Does Globalization Mean for Uzbekistan?

“Globalization appears as an inexorable force – perhaps of progress, perhaps simply of a capitalist juggernaut, but in any case irresistible.”i

Craig Calhoun

Globalization is understood as the unintentional erasure of differences and cultural specificities worldwide due to the mobilized economy, information technology, production exchange and spread of democratic ideology. Advanced communication technology, increases in the mobility of capital in the global arena and deepening international relationships (both political and economic) are the most significant changes of our time that have accelerated globalization in the world. However, many countries are not open to the natural progression of globalization and try to slow it down with state censorship and passive international capital exchange. Dr. Bolton argues there are still a few states remaining free from the international oligarchy, and Uzbekistan is one of those few states whose maintenance of its national currency and rejections of involvement with international financial institutions enabled it to stay secure from recent world financial turbulence.ii Some negative consequences of globalization including cultural eradication, environmental decline and weakening the state sovereignty are assumed, but economic isolation and internet censorship to stop or slow down this process have greater financial, social and political costs for the states. The natural flow of globalization is powerful, as people travel around the world and work in neighbouring countries, and while information technology is improving and international communication is reaching its high stages, it is impossible to remain isolated from the rest of the world.
Uzbekistan is one of the developing countries which has both rich natural and human resources. It is located in Central Asia, which is a core area of the Asian continent, and it has an area of 447,400 square kilometers and an estimated population of 29,559,100.iii China, Afghanistan and Russia surround Uzbekistan from three sides and influence the country in three different ways. The implicit character of the region’s political and social structure including slow economic growth, unemployment, environmental decline, and undemocratic governance are unsolved problems characteristic to the region. However, since breaking away from the former Soviet Union, Uzbekistan suffered a decline in real GDP along with other members of the Commonwealth of Independent States.iv Due to the damage in the Soviet economic chain and re-configuration in the state structure, unemployment and economic tension increased. Separation from the state-centered economy and committing to a gradual transition to a marked-based economy was Uzbekistan’s first step towards neo-liberal globalization. Progress with the economic policy reforms in Uzbekistan has been cautious, but the country has registered respectable achievements since its independence.v Currently, Uzbekistan attracts very small amounts of Foreign Direct Investment (FDI), which is causing significant damage for its economic progress. The major economic reforms such as foreign investment law, contract and tax legislations, stableness of regulations, performance of the banking sector, internet and international communication quality all play a significant role for investors considering investing and conducting business in the country. The increase in foreign direct investment indicates its good performance in the global arena and competitiveness within global standards.
During the Soviet regime Uzbekistan mainly produced agricultural goods and raw materials, which caused a feeling of being far behind most of the world’s industrial development, international business experience, existence of modern technology and improvement in intellectual/managerial skills. Up to the present day Uzbekistan is a leading world producer of cotton and gold, and also produces significant amounts of non-ferrous metals, natural gas and oil.vi After untying itself from the Soviet supply and production chain, Uzbekistan urgently needed foreign direct investments because it is an important vehicle for industrial development, capital/skills inflow and to improve political/economic interaction with the rest of the world. Losing the Soviet umbrella was intimidating at times. Lacking international experiences, both political and economic, are required very cautious steps. Also, in traditional societies globalization is seen as a threat for cultural and religious traditions. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, the idea of national identity and cultural uniqueness became even more desirable in Uzbekistan. At the same time alteration in traditions, improvement in technology and transformation in lifestyle was observable in the big cities. The natural flow of cultural globalization was still occurring regardless of the state’s antagonism toward it. The interrelationship between economy, technology and democracy defines neo-liberal globalization. It appears to be an intentional force to create one global culture in the planet by spreading through national borders without any hesitation, without much pushback, then integrating societies and altering cultures.
Opponents of globalization in Uzbekistan would argue that as globalization brings western ideology along with the western capital and skills, there are significant potential dangers of weakening the state’s sovereignty and loss of national and cultural identity.vii Investing a lot of power and capital might lead big corporations to a sophisticated form of colonization over poor countries. Foreign companies might invest money in developing countries for one reason; they try to take advantage of the cheap local labour force and cheap raw materials of the country. In addition, those who have employment in the foreign companies will have an immense pressure and threat of losing their job at any given time. Environmental standards might decline because of large manufacturing corporations, but what is more dangerous for Uzbekistan’s case is not allowing these changes, and experiencing, learning and forming applicable policies to prevent undesired consequences of globalization. State sovereignty of the United States, Russia, Canada or China did not weaken because of their high level of global involvement. The centerpiece of the globalization project is the belief in market liberalization that took hold under the debt regime. Local environmentalists, economists, financial advisors and policy providers need to analyze every possible positive and negative outcome to achieve equal efficiency for both sides.
Regardless of the president Karimov’s (incumbent president of Uzbekistan) very slow movements towards globalization, internet and media censorship, and the rejection of global financial institutions, progress of globalization is powerful and inevitable. Therefore, attracting foreign direct investment is critical for Uzbekistan to improve industrial development, to relieve the tension of shifting to a market-based economy and to accelerate the adaptation to more democratic practices. Foreign investments provide citizens with jobs and financial stability. The Uzbek government is unable to control currency inflation, and there is still a big gap between “black market” value and the value of national currency. National currency was not convertible until 2003, and even after the government formally agreed to currency convertibility Uzbekistan’s, currency rate did not improve.viii A very preventative trade regime and domineering policies continue to bring damaging effects on the economy. Uzbekistan needs a substantial structural reform to create a more desirable climate for foreign investors, strengthening the banking system and currency, and needs to release the agricultural sector from state control.
According to Pamila Blackmon Uzbekistan ranks second place between Central Asian countries for its richness to natural resources.
“Uzbekistan is considered moderately endowed with natural resources including gold, oil, natural gas and cotton. In fact, at independence, the country was ranked as the seventh largest producer of gold, the tenth largest producer of natural gas and the fourth largest producer of cotton in the world.”ix
As Blackmon discusses, foreign investors attracted more of the resources of neighbouring countries compared to Uzbekistan because of their investor-friendly legislations. For example, government of Kazakhistan implemented tax and investment legislations which made it more attractive to foreign investors, but Uzbekistan does not have such stable policy measures for an investment framework. Uzbekistan’s first “Law in Foreign Investment” was passed in 1994 and has been renewed very often, which made it even more difficult for investors to keep track of numerous modifications every time, and it increased doubt about the stability of the policies.x Uzbekistan’s tax code legislation was passed only in 1998, but it still does not have a clear rate for different enterprises. A lack of progress in tax legislation, banking sector reforms and the risk conducted in doing business with Uzbekistan have negative impacts on the number of firms doing business in the country.xi
As former US president Bill Clinton stated “globalization is about more than economics. America’s purpose must be to bring the world together around democracy, freedom and peace and oppose those who would tear it apart.” Regardless of what America’s purpose is in spreading globalization, every country should learn and adapt the best applicable features for the better future of its own citizens and country’s strong standing in the global arena. Globalization erased distance between different countries of the world. Communication technology and the internet are perhaps the most significant technological advancements of our time that accelerated globalization in the world. Trying to slow down the globalization process by state censorship is a temporary solution for authoritarian governments which has great negative consequences for the future of their own nation. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, communist ideology was slipping out of the county and Uzbekistan had an urgent need to fill this gap. Because of this void, the idea of national identity and cultural uniqueness became significantly desirable; for example, names of historical heroes who lived in this region were again popularized. Regions, streets, theatres, buildings and parks were changed back to the original pre-Soviet names and styles. The Uzbek language was recognized as an official language and national celebrations like Navrus, Independence Day and religious festivities were added to the national identity with pride. Although the Uzbek government is criticized for oppressing religious citizens with ideals of “extremism”, many mosques were built and others were re-opened after the end of the Soviet regime. However, the undeniably beautiful look of the cities and costly celebrations in the capital city did not reduce unemployment, did not deepen democratic adaptations, did not increase the quality of education, and more significantly, did not significantly reduce poverty in the country. Education in Uzbekistan does not adhere to global education standards. Degrees and certificates can be purchased from educational institutions. Evidently, this isolation is causing more harm than benefits for Uzbekistan. Interest in education between youth declined significantly in last twenty five years.
Since 1991 Uzbekistan moved forward to liberal reform for its economic structure and made a remarkable shift from a centrally-planned economy to a market economy. The changes were overwhelming but not significantly beneficial for the majority of citizens. As importing gold, cotton and oil is not enough for improving economic development, having an exchange relationship with the neighbouring countries, more specifically countries with economic difficulties/crisis is the only option for surviving. Therefore, attracting foreign direct investments is an urgent need for the newly independent Uzbekistan. Foreign direct investments and capital inflow can decrease unemployment, improve education and skills, and relieve the tension of the transition to a market based economy. Additionally, foreign direct investments also bring new technologies, and powerful scientific and managerial skills.xii
After the collapse of the Soviet Union in the 1990s, Soviet economic chain between countries of former USSR was also diminished. The corresponding increase in unemployment pushed people to seek work in neighbouring countries.
“Unemployment and underemployment are persistent problems, and a significant number of people continue to look for jobs in Russia, Kazakhstan, the Middle East, and Southeast Asia. Business analysts estimate that a high number of Uzbek citizens are working abroad. Estimates range from lows of 3 million to highs of 5 million Uzbek citizens of working age living outside Uzbekistan. Uzbekistan signed a labor agreement with Russia in 2007 to facilitate the temporary migration of Uzbek workers and the taxation of their income.”xiii
People who are working in Russia, Kazakhstan and other neighbouring countries are providing for their families, bringing new technologies, new skills and easing the economic tension in the country but they do not have social security, they do not live in acceptable living conditions while working and most of the time they do not have registration or work permits, putting their lives in danger. According to the Memorial – Human Rights Organization there are many occurrences were Uzbek workers were beaten, killed and forced to work for long periods of time for free.xiv Uzbekistan has natural and human resources, and desirable weather conditions to attract foreign investors. If Uzbekistan could adopt correct legislations, new economic reforms and desirable democratic practices, encouraging foreign investments would solve the bulk part of the economic and unemployment issues in the country.
Attracting foreign investors also depends on the availability of information about the country to the investors. Unfortunately, Uzbekistan has the most strict internet censorship in Central Asia, and information the Uzbek government releases is not reliable. Citizens inside the country are disconnected from the outer world and do not know more than what is permitted by the censors for them to know. After the Andigan massacre on May 13, 2005, where the Uzbek government unlawfully killed thousands of people in the central park of Andigan city during peaceful demonstrations, internet censorship increased. Citizens cannot access many websites that would perhaps encourage more democratic practices and inform their opinion of international organizations and knowledgeable analysts about the political and economic situation in Uzbekistan. Most of the people in Uzbekistan are forced to live with a dogmatic view about their country, president and constitution and express very high pride and satisfaction about their lives. Also, unreliable sources of information make Uzbekistan undesirable for foreign investors. Journalists and politicians suffer from oppression from the government, forced child labour is still in practice, and torture in the jails and uninformed detentions are part of the harsh centralized control. Arguably, the authoritarian character of the Uzbek government uses cultural erosion as an excuse for its anti-globalism actions, but in reality tries to hide its undemocratic way of governing the country from international eyes.xv As citizens of Uzbekistan are travelling to Russia to get a job and provide for their families, they are accessing the internet and other democratic media sources in different ways. Therefore, the Uzbek government is only limiting its own opportunities to attract foreign investors while trying to censor the internet.
Uzbekistan has great weather and very historical cities that always have been attractive for foreign tourists. Bukhara, Khiva, Samarkand and Urgench were historically located on the Silk Road which connected Mediterranean countries with China, yet tourism in Uzbekistan has a great need for improvement. Adopting the visa system was Uzbek government’s way of increasing security in the region. Obstacles in obtaining a visa are damaging tourism and causing economic difficulties for the region.
Uzbekistan as a landlocked country has a deep need for adopting globalism and opening doors to Foreign Direct Investment (FDI). During the Soviet era Uzbekistan was not able to develop the technology or the skills for broad industrial development. Therefore, foreign direct investment is going to be an important potential vehicle for industrial development, and capital and skills inflow. Uzbekistan can offer manufacturing of advanced technology, further processing of commodities, including agricultural, mineral and hydrocarbon primary products, the manufacture of pharmaceutical and medical equipment and tourism commodities and services. Unfortunately, the Uzbek government’s currents policies and regulations, visa system, internet censorship and very slow movement towards globalism are creating an unwelcoming climate for foreign investors.


Bolton, Kerry. ”Uzbekistan: An Outpost Against Globalization .” Foreign Policy Journal. 35. no. 1 (2010). http://www.foreignpolicyjournal.com/2011/06/05/uzbekistan-an-outpost-against-globalization/ (accessed November 12, 2012).

Blackmon, Pamila. ”Divergent paths, divergent outcomes: linking differences in economic reform to levels of US foreign direct investment and business in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan .” Central Asian Survey. 26. no. 3 (2007): 355–372. http://ehis.ebscohost.com.login.ezproxy.library.ualberta.ca/eds/pdfviewer/pdfviewer?vid=3&hid=121&sid=3349ccf7-416f-4c11-aeea-d7e325560581@sessionmgr114 (accessed November 12, 2012).

Bureau of Public Affaires, ”U.S. Department of State.” Last modified December 3, 2010. Accessed November 12, 2012. http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ei/bgn/2924.htm.

Craig Calhoun, “Imagining Solidarity: Cosmopolitanism, Constitutional Patriotism, and the Public Sphere,” Public Culture 14, no. 1 (2002): 147.

Ruzaliev, Odil. ”Attitudes Toward Globalization and the use of New Technologies.” The National Bureau of Asian Research (NBR). (2006). http://www.nbr.org/Downloads/pdfs/PSA/Uzk_Conf06_Ruzaliev.pdf (accessed November 12, 2012).

United Nations, Investment Policy Review of Uzbekistan. New York, Geneva: Routledge on behalf of United Nations, 1999

(”U.S. Department of State” December 3, 2010) http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ei/bgn/2924.htm

Craig Calhoun, “Imagining Solidarity: Cosmopolitanism, Constitutional Patriotism, and the Public Sphere,” Public Culture 14, no. 1 (2002): 147.

Kerry Bolton, ”Uzbekistan: An Outpost against Globalization,” Foreign Policy Journal, 35, no. 1 (2010),


United Nations, Investment Policy Review of Uzbekistan, (New York, Geneva: Routledge on behalf of United Nations, 1999), 5-1.

United Nations, Investment Policy Review of Uzbekistan, (New York, Geneva: Routledge on behalf of United Nations, 1999), 5-1.
United Nations, Investment Policy Review of Uzbekistan, (New York, Geneva: Routledge on behalf of United Nations, 1999), 5.
Kerry Bolton, ”Uzbekistan: An Outpost against Globalization,” Foreign Policy Journal, 35, no. 1 (2010),
Pamila Blackmon, ”Divergent paths, divergent outcomes: linking differences in economic reform to levels of US foreign direct investment and business in
Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan ,” Central Asian Survey, 26, no. 3 (2007): 355–372,
Pamila Blackmon, ”Divergent paths, divergent outcomes: linking differences in economic reform to levels of US foreign direct investment and business in
Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan ,” Central Asian Survey, 26, no. 3 (2007): 355–372,
UNCTAD (1995). World Investment Report 1995: Transnational Corporations and Competitiveness
(Geneva and New York: United Nations).
(”U.S. Department of State” December 3, 2010) http://www.state.gov/r/pa/ei/bgn/2924.htm


Pamila Blackmon, ”Divergent paths, divergent outcomes: linking differences in economic reform to levels of US foreign direct investment and business in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan ,” Central Asian Survey, 26, no. 3 (2007): 355–372,

7/29/2008 11:01:32 AM
Journalism Is One Of The Significant Pillars Of Democracy

In the words of Abraham Lincoln, democracy is government “of the people, by the people, and for the people.” By this definition, democracy is founded on the informed participation of its citizens. In order for democracy to function well, its citizens must be informed; informed of public policy, informed of the positions of various political leaders, and informed of the various sides of issues being publicly debated. This raises the question: How then, do the citizens of a democracy, become informed? In my view, this is one of the fundamental roles of the media in a democracy. From this perspective, journalism can be viewed as a pillar of democracy, for without an informed citizenry, democracy will surely falter, and perhaps even fall.

Journalists around the world often write about the governments in their nations, and those governments have policies towards journalists, which control what they can research and write, and what press organizations can publish. Many Western governments guarantee the freedom of the press, and do relatively little to restrict press rights and freedoms, while other nations severely restrict what journalists can research and/or publish. This clearly illustrates one of the critical distinctions between democracies and dictatorships.

This is why it is fundamental that in a democracy, there is a “free press.” The press must be free; free to criticize the government, free to publish views that are contrary to the positions of those in power, and free to inform the citizens in the democracy of the positions of those in power and those who wish to be. If the government controls the press, and journalists are not free to inquire about the activities of those in power – and publish the results of their inquiries – then we cannot have a true democracy.

Thus, it is critical that those who call themselves “journalists” understand their role in a democracy, and hold themselves up to the very highest standards of journalistic principles in their inquires and in their writing. These include such attributes as thoroughness. Good journalists do not take short cuts. They keep “digging” until they have all of the essential aspects of a story. This can prove difficult, especially considering the often conflicting pressures of tight timelines and the desire to be thorough. Accuracy is another fundamental principle of good journalism. A good journalist does not print hearsay; invalidated information, or quotes out of context in a way that the original meaning is deliberately misconstrued. Good journalists are also fair. They work hard at showing not only both sides of an issue, but at showing the multiple sides of complex issues. Unlike television news, which is limited by its need to provide visual images and short sound bites – the print media offers the opportunity of going more in depth and detail in its reporting of complex issues. High quality journalism also strives to be transparent. Sources are named where appropriate and possible, motives behind both the reporting of the story and those being reported on are made as clear as possible for the readers.

If qualities such as thoroughness, accuracy, fairness and transparency are the qualities of good journalism, then it follows that these are also the attributes that one would find in good journalists. For someone to report the events of the day to others, to act in a sense as an interpreter for their readers, is a significant responsibility, one not to be taken lightly. In addition to the qualities mentioned above, I would also add that I think good journalists need to have a great deal of stamina, energy, patience, and no small measure of courage in order to do their work well.
(Давомини укинг...)

7/21/2008 12:07:19 AM
The Princess Who Turned Into a Ghost

Shortly after I moved to Edmonton I rented an apartment in the west side of the city. One morning, while I was busy making breakfast, someone knocked softly on my door. I listened, but the knocking stopped. After a few minutes, the knocking started again, and then became a little bit louder. I went to the door. “Who…?” I tried to use one of the few words I knew in English. Nobody answered. Just as I turned back, there was a knock on the door again. It was strange. I opened the door… and instinctively stepped back and my heart started beating faster. There was a tall, skinny – even frighteningly skinny – dark woman standing in my doorway, covered all in black. Her unkempt, long grey hair was hanging all around her neck which made her even scarier. Her eyes were deep and cold. The worst thing about her was her smile. It was terrifying.

She started to talk in Persian before I could say anything.

“Do you speak Persian?”

“Not really. I can understand a little bit, but my Persian is better than my English at least!” I could hardly speak in her language. I kept smiling, hoping to make myself feel better, but still, I couldn’t shake off the fear.

“Can I come into your home?” she asked me. “I have not had anyone who understands my language in this place, and I heard you talking with your children in Turkish. That’s why I decided to come”

I felt better. I felt much more confident. Our situations were similar. I didn’t know very much English, neither did my husband or children. I had not had anybody to talk to up to that time.

“C’mon in!” I invited the woman without thinking. It seemed someone was deciding for me in my heart.

She entered to my house quickly and locked my door after herself. I was feeling uneasy from the stranger’s unexpected visit and peculiar actions. Her name was Safiya and she was my neighbour. Safiya was from Afghanistan and had moved to Canada a few years earlier with her fourteen year old son, Rahim.
Their life was a mystery. Safiya walked all day long in the long corridor of the apartment building and hid if she heard someone’s voice. She didn’t take care of her home or her son. She was mentally and emotionally ill and extremely quiet. Sometimes she came to my house, sat for hours on the only couch in my living room, and left without saying a word.

We had a great deal of difficulty talking, as we only knew a few words in Persian. I was feeling sorry for them. Rahim knew about his mother’s sickness and never placed any demands on her. He cooked for himself, and seemed fine with his own sandwich and boiled eggs. Rahim started to teach me some English, and I started to teach him how to make some easy recipes, how to organize their home and finances. After awhile Rahim and I were able to communicate in English and I was feeling comfortable talking to Safiya in her language. It felt like I had two new children besides my own two boys. Unconsciously, I started to pick some shorts or socks for Rahim while I was shopping for my children.

One day, I discovered the reason for the pain in Safiya’s heart. She was from rich family. She got married to the only son of a wealthy family. Her life was smooth and beautiful until the Taliban arrived in her city.

“Houses were burned, people were killed, all the women started to wear black; cities were empty, roads were empty, lives were empty, and hearts were empty, we were king and queen of the emptiness…” she said.

After a year she lost both her parents. Her sister got married and left the county with her new family. Safiya’s mother-in-law and father-in-law decided to stay and wait for “the good days” because they had lots of property and investments in the city.

Rahim was just a baby, and the family planned a huge birthday party to celebrate his third birthday. Many relatives came, and everyone had a wonderful time. However, after the birthday party, some of the guests were stopped by the Taliban as they made their way home. The Taliban questioned them. “Where are you going?” Where are you coming from?” What were you doing there?”

It was strictly forbidden by the Taliban to celebrate birthdays. Later that same night, after Safiya and her husband had gone to bed, the Taliban broke into their home. There, in the bed they shared so lovingly; there, in the bed where they had conceived their beloved Rahim; there in the bed, where only minutes earlier, they had kissed good night and said, “I love you” to each other, the Taliban beheaded her husband. Over her screams, over her protests, over her terror, the Taliban beheaded her husband.

After the Taliban left, she cradled her husband’s head in her arms, and cried tears that came from an agony she had not known was possible.

Terrible days were taking place for her and for her little boy. They moved to India and lived there for a few years. “There wasn’t war, but hunger, homelessness, being smashed like a stone on the road followed us all over India” she said.

Her stories were painful and there was nothing I could say to comfort her.

When I started to go to school and found a little job after learning some English, I didn’t have much time for them. Everyday, I only stopped by their door for few minutes on my way to work or school. On my days off we would spend some time together.

It was after midnight on a Friday night that there was banging on my door once again. The first thing that came to my mind was Safiya. I ran to the door, opened it and there she was. She was crying and shouting so loudly, and trying to hug me. I had to cover her mouth with my hand and carried her to her apartment. I didn’t want my family or other residents in the building to wake up.

“My chest is burning.” “I will die.” she was saying tearfully without stopping. When I opened her door, Rahim was sitting on the floor and crying.

“Rahim, what happened?” I asked him.

“Sorry for awaking you, I tried to stop her. But she is saying her chest is getting burned. She does this very often. Some nights we don’t sleep until morning.” the boy cried louder.

Tears filled my eyes too.

“You don’t worry; I will take care of your mom. Go and sleep honey. Tomorrow I will take her to the doctor” I said.

I kissed him good night and sent him off to sleep.

I sat in the living room with Safiya. She brought out some photo albums. I didn’t know that she had hundreds of pictures from her home and from her time in India. We chatted and looked at the pictures. Safiya was telling me stories while we looked at the pictures. There were pictures of dirty and half dressed children in the market place. All of them were smiling for the pictures. Rahim was there too, looking just like all of the other children, poor, half dressed, and smiling for the pictures.

Those smiling faces reminded me of the first time I saw Safiya. One of the pictures captured my attention. There was a very beautiful bride and a handsome groom in the picture. Both of them looked gorgeous in their wedding clothes. The bride’s skin was milky white, which contrasted with her long dark hair, which flowed like shiny waves around her shoulders. Sparkling eyes told the story of her happiness. Her hand was on the groom’s shoulder and the groom was holding her. She appeared to me to be a princess, a beautiful princess. Another picture was the same people with national Afghani clothes. With golden clothes and jewellery they were a piece of art work together.

I looked to Safiya with a question in my eyes: “Are all Afghani girls this beautiful?”

“Safiya” I asked, “Who is this?”

“Guess!” she smiled.

“Is she your sister who lives in the US?”

Safiya shook her head from side to side.

“Tell me, who is she?” I asked again impatiently.

“It’s me and Rahim’s dad…”

My eyes froze on the picture… I couldn’t believe my ears.
I thought of asking her, “Are you sure?” but I didn’t want to hurt her.

After few moments of looking at the picture, Safiya started to lovingly caress the image with a smile. She was no longer with me. She was in a dream world with her loving husband. I didn’t want to interrupt. I wanted her to enjoy that time.

Suddenly, Safiya pulled her eyes from the picture and looked to the darkness through her window. The smile disappeared. Terror covered her face. She put her fingers in her hair and started to scream. She was screaming as loud as she could.

“Safiya calm down… Please calm down” I said, but nothing seemed to stop her. I ran for water. I gave her some of the sleeping medication she used and hugged her very tight. Still, she cried long and heartbreakingly… I put her to her bed, sat on the floor right beside her bed, and brushed her grey hair with my hands until she fell asleep.

When I first got to know Safiya, I wasn’t happy with her. I was thinking “She is not the only person who saw hard days in Afghanistan. Why she doesn’t try to take care of her only child?”

Now I thought “How can she still live with this much pain, with these terrible scars on her heart?”

People don’t come to our lives without reason. There was a reason for her to knocking on my door. I looked at her. She was sleeping deeply. I got up soundlessly. When I reached the bedroom door, I turned back and looked at her one more before I left her room. She was sleeping peacefully. The first light of the morning star was peeking through her window: The light of a new day, full of blessing and hope.
(Давомини укинг...)

7/17/2008 4:43:26 PM
Dark Snow

The day my garden blossomed green,
It started snowing, like droplets of death
I was in my warm house but my heart was outside,
Crying and groaning under the snow…

The shiny days were beautiful and amazing
Were giving hope and birth to the greenery
I cared about my plants like my adorable baby…

Is killing someone’s hope amusing?
Is life merely pending…
Then parting happiness?

It was snowing horribly and I was helpless
I was freezing terribly in my warm house
My blood was freezing; my thoughts were freezing,
Tears were freezing on my face.

There was an endless sky – enjoying the purity,
There were countless tiny snowflakes playfully falling
Looking out from my tiny window, alone and insignificant,
As they were carelessly freezing my garden
As they were merrily destroying my life…!
I heard: My heart stopped weeping
Fell silent and wordlessly gave up.
(Давомини укинг...)

7/16/2008 10:54:59 AM
I Love You My Baby…

I looked for something special for you
As precious as diamond, as beautiful as rose,
Something that stays forever alive,
And has significance for all of life’s seasons,
Something gives you joy all the times,
Something fits all of your reasons…

Today I am around you for all of your needs.
I am the sun of your days, to make your life brighter,
I am the moon of your nights, to secure your sweet slumber.

One day if you fly away from the mother’s nest
Like an eagle’s eyes looking to strive to the highest
Every morning I will wake up and hope only the best for you
Hope for faith, strength, and happiness for you.

There won’t be a mom to give you a warm jacket
And a tasty sandwich or a little piece of food
But there would be a mom, who thinks every moment,
Are you happy? Are you doing alright?

Don’t be afraid to have great goals in your life
There is nothing too big if you cut it pieces
I want to see you as a fabulous artist as you want,
Baby… Make mom feel proud and pleased.

Mothers always have worrying hearts
Let me know if you are fine, by the way you want
I want you know I am here for you while my heart beats,
I want you feel you have been always cared and needed.

My heart is accepting the truth with the tears now.
These words are only the shadows of my love.
(Давомини укинг...)

6/20/2008 2:30:32 PM
Probably you would laugh at me then

We were at the river’s edge, sitting side by side
Telling stories and laughing,
I had some things to tell you, but felt afraid,
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

When it was my turn, I told the bedtime stories,
You didn’t know, they were my sweet dreams,
You listened and said "You are the best story teller"
But if I really tell you, you might not take me seriously,
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then

We had no secrets; our friendship was so pure,
You knew me as a simple girl from the village
But you couldn’t see my heart’s secret storms,
I didn’t want you to find me wild and to criticize me,
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

You didn’t know, I was feeling the pain of my nation,
I was thinking "God created me for a reason"
I was promising myself "I won’t live just because I was born"
If I said those things, you might not understand;
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

I found my true love only in the "Prince stories"
And I found true feelings rare in this world,
That’s why my world didn’t fit into that world,
If I opened my soul to you, you might find me extreme,
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

If I said: "I’ll get across the oceans,"
If I said: "I’ll write the books, already written in my mind"
If I said: "I won’t be afraid to chase my dreams,"
That was my future, but I suspected,
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

One day questions cried in your eyes,
Your eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing,
You said "I thought we are the best of friends,
And our hearts were open to each-other”, and I said
"Yes, we are, but I was afraid"
I thought, probably you would laugh at me then.

Today I am saying the things I should’ve said beside the river,
You are hearing them now, as they’ve become real,
And I have some things to tell you today,
But I won’t... forgive me?! If you heard them,
I am thinking, certainly you would laugh at me now.
(Давомини укинг...)

6/9/2008 11:34:32 PM
Myself… I will come to see you in your place

Today my soul is injured, in pain
Encouragements hopeless and helpless
When you stop to come to my side, then
I will come to see you in your place.

Tears in my eyes, stones in my chest,
The plain love remains patient and wordless
I am lonely, hardly walking on my miserable path,
I will come to see you in your place.

You’ll never know the power of my love,
Born from torture and tenderness,
But I knew, my fidelity how precious
I will come to see you in your place.

When I look in your eyes, when I stare at them,
Something black within my heart melts,
If you don’t come, without interest or too much pride
I will come to see you in your place.

When your feelings considered too week,
With your hair too grey and your hands shakes,
If you’re still longing to see me,
No reason but hope almost breaks,
I will come to see you in your place.
(Давомини укинг...)