World War II. The Great War. THE War. It is one of those things that lingers in the mind not just because of the scale, but also because of the landscape of the last few months. One simply cannot cross Europe via road without being struck by the way each country was impacted by the war. Whether the lingering burns on the buildings of Dresden, the holes in brick walls of concentration camps marking the planned atrocities and people lost to hate, or the epic sculptures trying to make sure we never forget - the war is still so very present.
But today was a different sort of feeling as I went to the garage at Dasmia to repaint part of one of the rickshaws and saw a political party (literally - a politician hosting a party....) filled with military men wearing their medals. When I asked one of the girls who'd be sent to take us to the garage about it, she replied the medals were most likely from the Great War or the war in Afghanistan. These men have aged well - standing with strong posture and the sort of dignity that says I'm proud to be in this uniform. And almost all the men there, whether in army green uniforms or suits had chests full with ribbons and medals. I don't even know what to think, but it certainly makes one think. Especially with American troops still in Afghanistan and having only recently have been in Europe it seems the war's physical presence has yet to vanish from living memory. The sterilized list of facts from history texts seems inadequate to describe the contrasts between the black and white text and the proud men of different nations each carrying their own memories of what the war was for and what it meant.
I didn't actually get to talk to the men, I continued with my task of painting an auto-rickshaw, but as I heard classical music coming through the clear air my thoughts lingered on the guests on the other side of the garage. I wonder what they would think of an American or a Brit in their midst. Driving home and going past Victory Square - the World War II monument in Bishkek where many weddings happen in the presence of the eternal flame- it struck me how deep the connection is. So deep that it's normal for couples to go on their wedding day to remember the war and the national identity they protected as a soviet state. I don't think that would ever happen in the US. The World War II memorial is stoic and the gray stone is somber and asks for stately respect, rather than focusing on personal sacrifice as the statues at Victory Square do. Anyways, just food for thought, I don't know enough to have a real opinion on the matter yet, but I do hope to learn more while I'm here.
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