Childhood
In 1991 Tajikistan gained its independence. USSR was in the past, but not for the people. During the civil war, our family was threatened, and the family was forced to leave the capital. We left to the north.
At the age of 6, I found myself in a city that was strange to me, among people who were not like me. People here were religious, although they loved to gossip. People here liked to invite each other to one’s house, but without address details. Indeed, they did not want you to visit them. They had many unwritten customs and traditions and lots of taboos for girls. For example, girls should not be photographed with fluffy long hair.
Once I was sitting in the yard and heard a conversation between a neighbor and her daughter.
“How could you take a picture with your hair down?” – asked a woman.
“I wanted it like that”, the girl replied to her.
To which her mother reacted nervously and said: “This is how prostitutes take pictures!”
For me it was weird. Why are girls allowed to wear beautiful long hair, but not allowed to take a picture?
Girls are not allowed to walk hand in hand with boys, otherwise everyone will think that he is her lover. It's amazing why people can't show their relationship to the society? Love is a wonderful feeling. Why hide it?
A lot of different "no" for girls in our society. I did not understand these prohibitions when I was little. Even more I did not understand the submissiveness and obedience of girls. For them, all prohibitions were the norm, but for me they were strange.
I went to first grade. It was an ordinary secondary school with Tajik as the language of instruction. There were 20 students in a class. Half of which were girls. I didn't want to be friends with girls. And yes, they were not particularly drawn to me. “She is not from our city. She is an outsider”, classmates said. It was painful and uncomfortable. I wanted to rebel. But at that moment I could not even imagine that it was possible to change something. So, I took everything for granted. I followed the customs and traditions; I did not want to upset my mother. My family had to obey the rules of the north, as it was necessary to build relationships with people and establish a new life in a new place. But the feeling of injustice haunted me.
Fourth grade. I was already 10 years old. My photo was hanged on the honor roll among the rest of the high school students, but I did not have any friend among girls. A way out was needed since it was no longer possible to be alone in the class. And I decided to talk to the boys. They didn't care where I was from. They did not have bans.
We used to run around the school yard during breaks, played gun shooting games, climbed trees, and built shelters there to hide.
It seemed like boys have more rights. They were free in their movements and in the choice of communication. They were allowed to walk until late, visit friends and stay there overnight.
I was little then, I thought that more permissiveness for the boys meant that they were better than girls. I did not understand why it was so and what I could do to change it. Therefore, at some point, I wanted to become a boy. And maybe then I could be free.
Boys loved me. They often came to my house and called me to play. I was the center of their attention all the time, they told interesting stories, taught me how to fight and defend myself and I enjoyed it.
In 1997, after the war ended, our family decided to return to their native capital. For a long time, the family was recovering financially. It was necessary to go through the same hardships of life as in the north again. New life, job search, finding a good school for the kids. Thanks to previous acquaintances, my mother managed to find an excellent job in the Government. I was placed in one of the best schools in the city. I found myself in a new environment again. In a completely different environment. I have changed, people have already changed.
The children were different in the new school. Here there were fewer restrictions. Children were more relaxed, and boys could be friends with girls. Nobody was calling me a stranger.
Boys and girls have already played love. If earlier I was a friend with the boys, and perceived them as my “buddies”, now it was impossible. Any attempt to speak and make friends with the boys was perceived by the environment as: “Do you love him? Is this your boyfriend?”
For conservative northern people, there was no concept of love for boys. But things were different in the capital. I didn't understand what "This is my boyfriend" meant. Or “We're dating". And again, I turned out to be an outsider among my own people. I could not communicate with the boys without subtext. I had no friends among girls and no friends among boys.
At the new school we were taught in Russian. And I did not know Russian at all. It was very difficult to study. A big blow to the child's psyche and pride. From a brilliant student, I turned into student with worst marks in the class.
A new student from Moscow came to our class. Short, with blue eyes and long black hair. Her name was Madi. She walked into the classroom with her head down. Our teacher introduced her to us and invited her to sit at a free desk. Madi walked around the room and the only empty chair was behind my desk. She sat down quietly and smiled at me. It was exciting. For the first time