an arrangement with Pakistan International Airlines to secure visas and flights for groups of students to Islamabad. But this involved getting visas from the Pakistani embassy in Kabul, which was extremely challenging. Perhaps the lowest point of the entire endeavor occurred on our first attempt to get visas at the embassy. A student volunteer, who was carrying passports of around 20 students, had been confronted by a Taliban guard and suddenly fell silent. We feared that if those passports were confiscated, we would have lost their opportunity to leave and would be responsible for their fate under the Taliban. Fortunately, although it turned out the student had been struck by the guard, he had not been injured or detained and with the help of AUAF transporting students to the airport, we were able to evacuate an additional 63 students on three flights. Getting students out of Afghanistan to Pakistan was the most important part of the journey. But we still needed to get students to Bishkek. We struggled to find flights out of Pakistan, which were almost entirely booked. Yasin Yaqubie from OSF spent days negotiating a special charter to fly our students from Islamabad to Bishkek even while we were still evacuating others. Then, as if the Red Sea were parting, we discovered a series of charter flights along the same route that were primarily taking Pakistani medical students to study in Kyrgyzstan, and we were able to secure seats for our students. Having secured student visas, the students could finally proceed to Bishkek to re-start their education as we had hoped when we began our efforts in June. Looking back, perhaps my most vivid memory was of one night towards the end of our overland efforts, when a group of 18 students was delayed at the border for many hours. They could not get across and there were reports of shooting in the area. I was on my back porch the entire night, talking and texting with colleagues who were based in six countries, reaching out to Pakistani officials, trying to calm students, and deciding whether or not to abandon the mission. The relief and emotions I felt when they crossed was comparable to two other pivotal moments: when our first group of students made it into Pakistan, and when the first plane of students arrived in Kyrgyzstan. My feelings were shaped by the painful failures that had taken place in the first weeks of our efforts and by the knowledge of how important these efforts were to the students’ futures. In addition, there is a transcendent feeling of grace that comes from being part of a team whose members are willing to give of themselves so absolutely and selflessly. More than once I found myself wiping away tears, overwhelmed by the magnitude of the work and the gratitude I felt for my colleagues’ efforts. In October, I flew to Bishkek and met with many of the evacuated students in person. Some I had known from the online classes I had taught, or from civic engagement conferences and workshops I had participated in, and some I only knew from texts and lists of names. It was incredibly gratifying to see their faces and hear their stories. One student in particular was held by the Taliban for a few weeks after she had attempted to cross at Torkham with a British group. Seeing her there with her sister, with whom I had been in touch throughout her travails, was otherworldly. This joy, however, was tempered by the knowledge that while we were able to get out almost all students who joined our evacuation efforts, many of our alumni did not make it out due to family concerns. The fact that there are also many students who still have family and loved ones suffering in Afghanistan is also sobering. In all, we evacuated 177 students from Afghanistan in nine overland trips and three flights. Many were AUCA students and alumni, others AUAF students who wanted to complete their education, and still others from partner institutions, like the American University in Beirut. Nearly all of them, and several additional students who found themselves in third countries, went to Bishkek to continue their studies. Their journey is not over. We are now working through OSUN and foundations and universities in the US and Europe to secure the longer-term future for the students until a time comes when they can return home. But for now, we can celebrate that they are safe and that we were able to accomplish what we set out to do. 51
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Aselya Umetalieva Director of International Students AUCA As Director of the International Student Office at AUCA, I develop and manage international student programs and support services for a diverse group of students. Our students are bright and open- minded young people who make the university community more special and unique. AUCA is an educational institution that welcomes students from many parts of the world but the majority of international students at AUCA come from Afghanistan. There is an AUCA team that supports Afghan students with whom I am working on a daily basis. The mission of this team is to provide on-site support on many aspects such as living, adapting as well as guiding and legal assistance to help them integrate into the new academic and cultural community. It is more important than ever for Afghan students to feel the support of the community and have them know there are people who care and stand for them. Human abilities are endless and we keep growing with the new challenges and experiences we are given throughout our life. This is exactly what I can tell about the evacuation mission conducted successfully by AUCA and Bard College with the support of international donors and partners. It was a professional task but it also carried a human sensibility for me personally to be a part of this process. Our aim was to not only help people to get an education but also protect youth so they might have a better future. That was the main reason we stayed so strongly connected with each other and focused all our efforts on achieving this goal. Despite the difficulties and sometimes disappointments the team had to face, we always believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The tireless work and daily support of the evacuation team as well as the patience of students and their responsible attitude and awareness all contributed to the evacuation’s success. It was a huge accomplishment to get permission to evacuate students to Islamabad and ensure their arrival in Bishkek. Many thanks to the AUCA administration led by Interim President Jonathan Becker and Vice President/COO Chingiz Shamshiev who made this possible. There were days and nights we stayed on calls and email, communicating at length with students who shared heartbreaking and sad stories. We wanted to help everyone but the resources were not unlimited and that was the time that made us weak sometimes. The lack of sleep and intense workload we experienced was stressful but our belief in the missions was stronger and that made us all keep working until we finally had students out of Afghanistan. Some of the evacuees were happy they made it and some were upset they left their loved ones. The great outcome of this experience is that more than 185 evacuees successfully crossed the border and made it to Bishkek safely. It is essential to mention that there were other groups of students who had been evacuated to other OSUN network institutions– Bard College in the US and Bard College Berlin. The logistics of the evacuation process was managed professionally by our colleague at Bard College, Bryan Billings, who worked incessantly with all the institutions involved to ensure that all proceedings go smoothly and accurately. There were several groups of students who were welcomed to AUCA: Afghan Alumni, AUAF exchange students and other individuals who decided to choose AUCA as a destination to study and continue their education. Each group needed special attention and support. The AUCA Afghan response team provided all the resources they needed – arrival orientation, academic advising, mentorship, counseling service, cultural activities and most importantly, financial aid for accommodations and assistance for the whole time they would be studying at AUCA and living in Bishkek. Viktor Frankl wrote that “Everything in life boils down to making choices and every choice we make makes our life.” I believe our students who have experienced these difficult, life-changing situations, are very strong people who can now build their own bright future. 53
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Omar Waraich South Asia Advocacy Advisor at Open Society Foundations Ivividly recall my first conversation with Jonathan Becker, last September. I had been playing a small role alongside many dedicated colleagues as they worked tirelessly to evacuate our incredibly brave colleagues from Afghanistan. By the time Jonathan and I spoke, the last military aircraft had left, and Kabul airport was now closed. A few private flights managed to slip out of another airport in the western city of Mazar-e-Sharif before it, too, was shut down for several weeks. In a moment when people desperately needed to get out, the paths out of Afghanistan were being choked off one by one. There were just two options left, both by road and neither of them easy: Iran to the south, or Pakistan to the east. Pakistan has an appalling record on human rights, and its involvement in Afghanistan has been deeply controversial because of its backing of the Taliban. But one thing it has notably done, for more than four decades, was host millions of Afghan refugees. I had been exploring the Pakistan option as a contingency in case our colleagues weren’t able to leave Afghanistan while flights were still taking off from Kabul. Now, I suggested the option to Jonathan, who patiently indulged me. “I’ve spoken to the Pakistani foreign ministry, and they said we can get transit visas for the students. It should be a straightforward journey by road,” I said. “It would take four hours to reach the Pakistan border from Kabul, then immigration checks at the border, and then a shortish drive onwards to Islamabad, the Pakistani capital.” I don’t think I realized just how fraught each element of the journey would be. When I first contacted the Pakistani Foreign Ministry, the official I spoke to sounded keen to help. He said the Foreign Minister was onboard, too. I thought it would be easy. I sent him a list with all the details he had asked for but I heard nothing back. I tried calling and messaging, but there was silence. After feverishly casting around the ministry, being diverted from official to official, I eventually reached “Mr. S”, the director of the crisis cell. It was the only time we ever spoke. In a call that barely lasted three minutes, he explained what details I needed to provide him, then hung up. Next, we needed to find a way to get the students to the border and across. They couldn’t just flag a cab or hop on a bus. The Taliban had set up checkpoints across the country. They were discouraging Afghans from leaving. There were fears that they could stop the cars, turn them back, or worse. A senior colleague at Open Society came up with a solution. She introduced everyone to a security firm that was not only working in Afghanistan but had partners in Pakistan and could fill many of the other gaps – booking hotels and arranging airport transfers. There was one catch. To be safe, the security company could only ferry a dozen or so students each day. The students would have to volunteer, braving a journey that they were unfamiliar with. Unlike earlier generations of Afghans, they had no experience of being displaced. Up to this point, their lives had mirrored the growth of an Afghan democracy, albeit one that was deeply flawed. They lived in a city that was deeply scarred by the war of the past two decades, during which the Taliban launched horrific terrorist attacks on schools, markets, hotels, hospitals and even their own university. But they had also enjoyed key freedoms, like the right to move freely and to learn, that were now snatched away – particularly for women and girls. Jonathan, Bryan, Aselya and I now had an established ritual. Every night, I would receive a letter detailing the names and passport numbers of each of the dozen or so students ready to go. The next morning, I would dispatch it via WhatsApp, with a plaintive note to “Mr. S.” I would then wait. Mr. S. would never acknowledge my messages. I worried that he’d changed his mind. Then, a few hours later, he wordlessly dropped a PDF with the visa letters into the chat. We went through the same routine every day, for several weeks. Sometimes, the replies 55
came back within an hour or two. Other times, it took much longer. My blood pressure would heighten around 6pm Pakistan time, when I feared Mr. S had clocked off. But he delivered. Each time the visas landed on my phone, I felt a rush of childlike excitement. What we couldn’t control, however, was the border itself. On the third day, there was a frantic rush, as thousands tried to get across. The Taliban unleashed their fury, beating people away. Some students were hit, too. I can’t even begin to imagine the fear they must have felt, or the bravery they were forced to summon. When I was their age, the only difficulty I ever faced getting to university was a subway strike, or a snowstorm. These students had just a few hours to grab whatever possessions could fit into a small bag, bid farewell to their families and the only lives they had known, and set off on a journey without knowing if they’ll ever return. The cars would set off in the early morning, Kabul time. I live in Amman, Jordan, a couple time zones away. I used to wake up at around six each morning and ask Bryan where the students had gotten to. Bryan was up through the night, it seemed. Jonathan used to sleep with his earphones on just in case he missed an important call. We all got used to calling each other spontaneously, without any consideration for what time it was. There were conversations that took place at 4am, both New York time and Amman time. I remember hearing the crickets chirping in the background when Jonathan was out on his porch. When the cars approached the border, we braced ourselves. There were days when the students slipped through within minutes, and everyone could try and get a few hours’ break. But then there was one unforgettable day when the students were stuck at the border for 15 hours. A few convoys were stopped at every one of the four hurdles they had to cross, including a rapid covid test, which a few students tested positive for and were stranded in a grim local hospital for a week. The students were also stopped by immigration, or the military, or by border police. On some days, presented with valid documents, the authorities refused to accept them, handing back the students’ passports. I would frantically call officials at these moments, including Mr. S, pleading for them to get through, while the security firm engaged in negotiations. All of the students did eventually get through, but that was never guaranteed. Each crossing was a victory, and each morning we were confronted with a fresh set of challenges. What worked yesterday wasn’t going to work tomorrow. It felt like running across a bridge that was collapsing behind us. At one point, the border crossings stopped. The Taliban and the Pakistani government had a row. Luckily, by this time, Pakistan International Airlines (PIA) resumed flights from Kabul to Islamabad, for a steep fee. A ticket for the hour-long journey cost as much as a flight to London. We still needed visas, and the PDFs transmitted by WhatsApp wouldn’t do – the Taliban demanded to see stamped visas in valid passports. The most terrifying moment for me came when we had designated a student to go to the Pakistan Embassy in Kabul to get the passports stamped with visas. I had no direct contact with the embassy. I was relying on an official in Islamabad to relay messages. When the student got to the gate, he was denied entry by an armed Talib. At one point, I could hear them shouting each other over the phone. Then the line went dead. I feared something terrible had happened. I called Bryan and told him I couldn’t do this anymore. It was too hard. Mercifully, the student resurfaced, and he got the passports back – complete with stamped visas – the next day. After that scare, we decided against sending students to the embassy again. It was too complicated, and too risky. PIA offered to get the visas done for us. Like everything else, this wasn’t as smooth a process as it first seemed. Two students turned up early in the day, but there was no one to help them. Then we got a message asking that all 50 students wanting to fly had to deposit their passports, with completed visa forms, within a couple hours. I don’t know how Aselya and Bryan pulled it off, but they all somehow got there on time. 56
The next day, Jonathan called me to ask where the passports were, if they had gotten visas, and when the students could get them back. I had no answers for him. We both knew that in this crisis the possession of a valid passport was the difference between being able to get out of the country or being left stranded indefinitely. By now, I had gotten to know many of the PIA officials involved, in Kabul and in Karachi, but none of them were answering their phones. Eventually, the manager in Karachi called back. “The Taliban have detained our guy and are interrogating him about why he’s getting visas for Afghans,” he said. I kept this piece of news to myself. Later that night, the PIA official in Kabul sent me a voice note on WhatsApp: “Every passport I took with me now has a visa. You can collect them tomorrow.” Everyone will recall the harrowing scenes at Kabul airport, where people desperately clung on to military planes as they took off, some plunging to their deaths. There had been crowds massed in the thousands outside, all hoping for a chance to board a flight. A day before the evacuations ended in August, an ISIS suicide bomber had killed more than 180 people at one of the gates. It would not be easy returning to the airport for the students, especially now, when there was no international presence, and the Taliban were in full control. It seemed advisable to try with a few students at first. I remember exchanging messages with Aselya in Bishkek on those days. The first group, it turns out, were bumped up to first class – not that it makes much of a difference on a 45-minute flight on PIA. The greatest moment of joy I experienced in those days was when Aselya messaged to let me know that the second group, all 50 or so students, had boarded. Around the same time, we found solutions for the students now growing restless in Islamabad. There were no direct commercial flights from Islamabad to Bishkek. One night, though, when I was idly browsing the “Flight Radar”, I spotted a plane making that journey. It belonged to a small Pakistani airline and, it turned out, was flying Pakistani medical students to Kyrgyzstan for a modest fare. They had spare seats. What Bard and the American University of Central Asia achieved was remarkable. During my university life, I had a pretty cynical view of university administrators. What Jonathan, Bryan and Aselya revealed, however, was a dedication to the welfare of students that cannot be adequately acknowledged. They recalled Bard’s finest traditions, opening its doors to scholars fleeing persecution at other points in history, whether it was during the Second World War, or in the wake of the Soviet invasion of Hungary. I was relatively new at Open Society when these evacuations began, having joined just a few months earlier. What I discovered was a group of colleagues unrivaled in their commitment to the people of Afghanistan, coming together to overcome every challenge, finding answers in the unlikeliest of places, taking every setback in stride, and persevering to the end. They were involved in supporting the people of Myanmar earlier in this way and are expending effort supporting people in Ukraine now. It’s an honor to work with them. There are far too many of them to mention, but I do want to note one: Yasin Yaqubie. For all those weeks, Yasin was a rock. He was central to the Open Society evacuations, supporting other organizations trying to help people out. He was indefatigable. I would call Yasin at least twice a day, and he would patiently talk me through everything: helping think through problems, devising innovative solutions, listening as I complained about something or other that went wrong that day. I’m incredibly grateful to him. Most of all, I think of the students. I was only at a distance from them through all of this. Meanwhile, Aselya, Bryan and Jonathan were in touch with them every day, offering them whatever assurances they could. Most of us have gone through our lives taking so much for granted, never having to worry that it could all be overturned one day, that the dreams we chased up to that point could suddenly vanish. No one should have to go through what they did. These students are the real heroes of this story, and I hope they will now have a chance to build the futures they each deserve. 57
Bryan Billings Director of Global Outreach Center for Civic Engagement Bard College Inthe summer of 2021 Jonathan Becker asked me to work on a program to help relocate Afghans ahead of the US withdrawal from Afghanistan. As time passed and there were minimal updates on the project, I assumed my assistance was not needed. Then very quickly the whole situation changed; the last two weeks of August became one of the most challenging periods in my life. Stress levels went through the roof as we worked with colleagues at AUCA, AUAF, OSF, Bard College Berlin and the US State Department round the clock to try and get as many students as possible on flights out of Afghanistan. There were moments of elation, when we thought we had secured passage, and deep despair as time ran out and we were not able to help anyone leave. I cannot imagine how difficult this must have been for students, who on multiple occasions said goodbye to parents, spouses and children, but then wound up having to remain in Afghanistan facing an uncertain future as the final US troops withdrew. After several other options were explored and dismissed, the decision was made to attempt an overland evacuation in small groups. , Some experts on the region (which I am not) were skeptical, but Finnish colleagues from FRF International assured me, after conducting reconnaissance on the ground, that the route was possible, as long as we had the necessary gate passes from the Pakistani authorities (which magically materialized thanks to Omar Waraich). As I reached out to the first group of students to suggest the overland route, I was filled with trepidation. Were we putting lives in danger? Was it worth the risk? To my surprise all were ready to attempt the crossing. The students showed astounding fortitude, leaving under the cover of night, crossing a chaotic border on their own with little knowledge of what lay ahead. There was incredible support for one another during the journey, even though they were often strangers until they gathered to leave for the border. Words can not describe the fear, frustration, and helplessness I felt as students contacted me in New York when things didn’t go as planned. But with the unwavering commitment of our team, the resourcefulness of the students themselves, the wonders of digital communication, and incredible good fortune, in the end everyone crossed and eventually made it to Islamabad. Nine students were forced to quarantine in a local hospital, where conditions were extremely challenging but even these students persevered through this difficult setback. The overland evacuation was physically and emotionally draining for all involved, but it allowed 114 students to cross into Pakistan at a time when it was unclear what each day would bring. As Pakistan International Airlines began operating flights we decided to take the risk and attempt flying students to Pakistan. While booking flights and getting to the airport may sound much simpler than negotiating Taliban checkpoints on the road to Torkham, the process was far from simple or easy, and it was only thanks to the dedication and quick thinking actions of the evacuation team and students that so many were able to fly to Islamabad. The night 52 students converged at the PIA office to apply for Pakistani visas were one of the most stressful of the entire operation. Meeting students’ needs while they were in Islamabad was a further challenge, and a debt of 58
gratitude is owed to Ehsan Achakzai, an Islamabad local who volunteered to work with students as they awaited Kyrgyz visas and flights to Bishkek. Not only did he meet with students and work with those in quarantine in Landi Kotal, he helped students buy warm clothing, get PCR tests and Covid vaccines. Without his help it is doubtful we would have been able to fly 29 students to Bishkek in early October, after rules were suddenly changed to require not only PCR tests for travel, but also full Covid-19 vaccination (the team in Bishkek scrambled to gather copies of vaccination cards and determine which ones were acceptable). It is hard for me to remember any feelings of joy when students first arrived in Islamabad or Bishkek, as I was so wrapped up with the students who were yet to make the journey. There are still many AUCA and AUAF students and family members in Afghanistan; there is much work left to be done. I remember team-members in Bishkek and I being very excited the first time all students were contacted in August to let them know they would be evacuated and how low I felt when it did not happen. I also remember feeling very relieved when one student was finally issued a Kyrgyz visa and left Pakistan on the final day she was legally allowed to be in the country (after waiting there for 30 days). How was it possible that both a visa and flight came about for her at the very last moment? The process was traumatic. For six weeks there was constant stress, countless obstacles and challenges, fear and danger, emotional outbursts and little if any time to sleep, eat, bathe or change clothes. It is hard for me to think back and relive the experience, but what immediately comes to mind is: six weeks of extreme exhaustion; insistent and rapid-fire dinging of my cell phone; adrenaline rushes, pulsing nerves, sweat and the stench of my body; the fearlessness of the students; the commitment and self-sacrifice of our team, ready to help as many students as possible; and the ever changing variations and iterations of lists of students. The fact that so many students were able to arrive in Islamabad and that there were no serious incidents is truly astounding. There were so many unknowns and uncertainties but somehow all of the pieces came together. I have incredible admiration for all those who worked to help bring the students to safety. My sincerest gratitude to Aselia Umetalieva, Zarlasht Sarmast, Omar Waraich, Ilari Könönen, Asel Sydykbaeva, Indira Sagynova, Ilias Sulvanov, Abdul Walid Azizi, Zhamilia Irsalieva, Aizhamal Dzhanibekova, Umut Kydyrgychova, Tatiana Orlova, Florian Becker, Bendetta Roux, Stephanie Hausotter, Marion Detjen, Arni Arnthorsson, Colman Joyce, Matt Trevithick, Ian Bickford, David Sedney, Chingiz Shamshiev, Nurgul Ukueva, Jonathan Becker and all of the others who made it possible (some of whom are still in Afghanistan). 59
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Zarlasht Sarmast OSUN Global Engagement Fellows Program Coordinator My name is Zarlasht Sarmast. I work as a program coordinator for the OSUN Global Engagement Fellows Program I don’t really remember much about how it all started. It was chaotic. I remember exactly a night before Kabul fell. I had a phone call with the head of the Crisis Rescue Unit (CRU) Mr. Stanikzai. I knew him because when I was in Kabul, my sister and I were doing the research for a documentary on CRU for Netflix. They were well aware of the situation, the deals and everything that was happening. It was early in the morning of the day when Kabul fell, I went outside for a walk and to get a coffee, I called Mr. Stanikzai and asked “Stanikzai sahib, senga ye? Halat Senga da, Hamkaran sha de?” (How are you, how are your colleagues? What’s the situation like?) He told me it’s all gonna be over tomorrow, we talked for about an hour. His voice was very heavy, as if he was controlling himself to not cry. I couldn’t stand anymore after the call was over. I sat down on a bench. I went to Instagram and my sister posted a video of the Afghanistan National Army, a group of them walking away from the battle- field without their guns, their guns were in the hands of the Taliban. Somehow, I was still able to hold it all in. I remember, even during those days, I had a feeling thinking Kabul will not fall, everything will be okay and I can go back soon and see my family. I would Zoom with my family every night and speak with them. That night when the Taliban arrived at the entrances of Kabul, I saw the news. I made a zoom like every day and sent it to my sister so they could get online and we could talk, they got online and we started our daily “Family time”. We usually started that by taking a few deep breaths and we all started talking about our days because we have been living in different countries for work and education. That night, the feeling of “everything will be fine” was gone in all of us. I think that is what was going on in every house in Afghanistan that night. The next day Ashraf Ghani left the country along with his assistants and other close allies. The country turned into a total mess, the situation at the airport was the same as what happened in the last days of the Vietnam War. The pictures and videos were just like the scenes in Saigon and maybe even worse than that. By August 30th, all forces of the United States Government as well as other countries’ military forces were out of Afghanistan and Taliban took complete power and freed all their prisoners right away. Dr. Jonathan Becker was the one who first proposed the idea of doing something and doing it immediately. I remember before the whole country fell I was added on a Zoom call on Google Calendar. The call was with the AUCA president Dr. Jonathan Becker, development office at AUCA, International Students office, Finance office and a few others. During the call the discussion was about getting the AUCA students and AUAF students out of Afghanistan as soon as possible. I was so hopeless those days that I honestly didn’t believe we would be able to do anything for anyone. I think the commitment of our team, a month with very little sleep, putting this mission as our top priority, the bravery of all students the help from governmental sectors like the Ministry of Forgeing Affairs of Kyrgyzstan, our resilience and the generous financial support of the OSF and OSUN made this evacuation possible. My worst memory from the evacuations was when I got a call from one of the students saying the Taliban had started whipping and beating the students and others at the border. They sent me some photos and videos. I couldn’t watch it. I just deleted the photos and videos on the spot and put my phone away and got 61
out of my apartment. Our students in that group couldn’t cross the border that day. They all went back to their homes hopeless. Some of them had come to Kabul from provinces. For them it meant going back to their provinces for a couple of days at least. That was the moment I was feeling very down and out of energy. The happiest moments were when the first group of our students crossed the border and made it to Pakistan. We thought “We did it and we can get all the students out now”. The second happiest moment was when the first group of students arrived in Bishkek and were picked up at the airport by our colleagues from the International Students Office. Now that our students have made it out of the country, we need to make sure we can help them in the next steps as well. There is no way they can go back to Afghanistan. At least not now. There is a lot of need for finding funding resources and making sure the students are getting the support they need in securing further fully funded academic programs or finding jobs. We hope you join us in this important mission. If I could describe my experience throughout the evacuation process in one sentence I would say it was a very long, scary, exhausting yet exciting roller coaster ride. At the end, I want to dedicate a poem by Mario Benedetti to all the people who made this mission possible and Thank them for being the kind of people that I like: The people I Like I like the people who vibrate. The people who you don’t have to push and tell them what to do. They know what needs to be done and do it. The people who cultivate their dreams until those dreams take on their own reality. I like the people who have the capacity to measure the consequences of their actions. The people that risk the certain for the uncertain when chasing a dream.Who allow themselves to get away form sound advice leaving the solutions in the hands of God. I like the people who are just with their peers and themselves. The people who are thankful for every new day and for the good things that exist in their lives, who live every hour with a good spirit, giving the best of themselves, thankful for being alive, for being able to give away smiles and to offer a helping hand without expecting anything in return. I like the people who have the capacity to criticize me, constructively and to my face, but without hurting or wounding me. The people who are tactful. I like the people who posses a sense of justice. It is they who I call my friends. I like the people who know the importance of joy and practice it. The people who through joking teach us to live life with humor. The people who in this sense, never stop being child-like. I like the people whose energy is contagious. I like the people who are frank and sincere, capable of opposing the decisions of anyone with reasonable argumentation. I like the people who are faithful and persistent, who don’t give up when it comes to reaching objectives and ideas. I like the people with criteria, who aren’t ashamed of admitting when they are wrong or when there is something they don’t know. The people who, after acknowledging their mistakes, genuinely strive to not make them again. The people who fight against adversities. I like the people who look for solutions. I like the people who think and meditate internally. 62
The people who value their peers not because of a social stereotype or how they look. The people who don’t judge or allow others to judge them. I like the people who have personality. I like the people capable of understanding that the biggest mistake a human being can make, is to try to take away from his mind that which won’t leave his heart. Sensitivity, courage, solidarity, kindness, respect, tranquility, values, joy, humility, faith, tact, confidence, hope, appreciation, wisdom, dreams, regrets, self love and love for others are all fundamental in order to be called PEOPLE. I am committed for the rest of my life, for anything, with people like these. Just for having them with me I’m well remunerated. 63
Special Thanks to the following people for making this evacuation possible Open Society Foundations (OSF) Open Society University Network Andrew W. Mellon Foundation Aselia Umetalieva Omar Waraich Jonathan Becker Bryan Billings Bonnie T. Goad Zarlasht Sarmast Ilari Könönen Asel Sydykbaeva Indira Sagynova Ilias Sulvanov Abdul Walid Azizi Zhamilia Irsalieva Aizhamal Dzhanibekova Umut Kydyrgychova Tatiana Orlova Florian Becker Bendetta Roux Stephanie Hausotter Marion Detjen Arni Arnthorsson Colman Joyce Matt Trevithick Ian Bickford David Sedney Chingiz Shamshiev Nurgul Ukueva Emil Martinez Yasin Yaqubie Ehsan Achekzai Jose Roberto Roope Ruokonen Kamila Mateeva AUCA Development Office Bermet Tursunkulova Anna Kim Nazgul Koilubaeva 64
Aikanysh Imanova Jumakadyrova Gulsana Erik Black Vitess Del Prete Saltanat Rustembekova Aidai Sarykueva David K Lakhdhir Tatiana Orlova Celine Carbullido Ilias Suvanov AUCA Public Relations Office Saikal Anvarbek kyzy Christopher Baker Aizhana Dzhumalieva Tamo Chattopadhay Elena Kosterina Galina Gorborukova Akylai Muktarbek kyzy Cholpon Turdalieva Jibek Toichubekova Gulzada Kochokova Aidai Anvarbek kyzy And everyone else who made this possible. 65
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