Multi-Generational Living in Tajikistan

A friend of mine in Dushanbe is Iranian-American and last weekend her parents came to visit.  One of their throw-away comments was Tajiks live like Iranians did 100 years ago.  Although this was not a serious assessment – it was meant facetiously – they had a point that life in Dushanbe is more oriented towards the extended family than it is in more atomized “western” societies.  This does not mean that Tajik culture exists in homeostasis, untouched by the outside world.  The Tajiks I know in Dushanbe have cell phones, access to the internet; they watch American, Russian and Uzbek movies and they discuss global politics.  But unlike what I am used to in the United States, here I live with a family where three generations, and several Uzbek cousins, live under one roof.  Other extended relatives who live in the neighborhood drop by at least once a week.  Furthermore, within the extended structure of my family there are fairly set roles.  Very broadly, the husband works long hours as the head chief in a hotel.  He is the main “breadwinner.”  Female family members cook, clean, and look after small children.  When not in school or out with friends, teenagers are on hand to run errands and tend to the garden.  The family matriarch, a grandmother, owns the property and is involved in most financial decisions.  She also seems to be perpetually chopping vegetables. 

These chopped vegetables find their way to dinner when Osh Palav is served.  Osh is the national dish, and a staple that appears at least twice a week at dinner time (and sometimes with leftovers for breakfast).  The osh that my family prepares is composed of rice, thinly sliced carrots, and a cube of beef.  This is all cooked with cottonseed oil in a large kazan (a wok-like pot) over an oven flame.  Foreigners sometimes find this dish a bit heavy.  Personally, I enjoy mixing it with a side of thinly sliced onions and tomatoes, although this is not exactly traditional.

Every meal is served with flat bread, green tea and, in my household, a healthy dose of tarbus (watermelon).  Indeed, watermelon seems to be consumed at all times and all places in Tajikistan.  An afternoon by the river inevitably begins with several family members building a small dam with rocks.  Watermelons are then sunk into the pocket behind the rocks to cool as glacial water runs over them.  Failure to consume all the watermelon slices available at mealtime often results in a family elder insisting “geer, geer,” (literally the imperative “take, take”) until she is satisfied that the watermelon has been completely consumed or that those present can no longer fit food in their stomachs.

Another popular dish in my house is soup served with meat and noodles and a salty broth.  This is usually complimented by a generous scoop of sour yogurt mixed into the broth.  The addition of yogurt however, has proven to be a bridge too far for me.  At meal times when my family insists that I add a scoop of yogurt I usually respond with “lotfan, hanoz ye kami me tarsam,” or “sorry I’m still a little afraid.”  This tends to put the issue to rest as long as there are no teenagers present.

 - Eric Dahlbom is studying Tajiki in Dushanbe, Tajikistan.