Family,
Sacred Places and Islamic Law:
Islamic Approach to Reproductive Health in Ferghana
Valley
By Svetlana
Peshkova
Department of
Anthropology, Syracuse University.
2
In this report I
describe and analyze the relationships between family structures, religious
networks and
institutions in
the Ferghana Oblast’, Uzbekistan. In the first part of the report I
identify several models of family
structures in the
area. These models are analytical abstractions that allow the researcher to
consider the decision-
making strategies
used by the individual members of the families in the area regarding families’
reproductive
health. Yet
reproductive decision-making is not limited to the family arena in the
oblast’. The networks of
relatives,
friends, co-workers, neighbors, medical doctors and religious leaders are also
involved in reproductive
decision-making
processes. Hence, I suggest that the role of religious leaders is crucial in
considering the
articulation and
implementation of an Islamic dimension of health reform. More specifically, in
the second part
of the report I
look at the role of religious networks and institutions in intra-family
reproductive decision-
making. A strong
interest in this role is motivated by my interest in Islam in Central Asia and
the desire to find
entry points for
an Islamic approach to reproductive health as a dimension of local and national
health reform in
Uzbekistan. The
final part of the report suggests methodological recommendations for an Islamic
health
promotion in
regard to reproductive health.
ii
I conducted a
pilot ethnographic study of structures of family and religious institutions in
Ferghana
Valley,
Uzbekistan, in May-June, 2001. The geographic scope of this pilot study included
Ferghana oblast’. An
oblast’ is
an administrative unit which is smaller than a region but bigger than a county.
Later in the report I will
use the term
rayon, also an administrative unit, which approximates a township. I
utilized the following
ethnographic
methods: participant observation, semi-structured, unstructured group and
individual interviews,
network analysis,
and life histories. The data collected in the field was analyzed in
August-September 2001.
This final report
reflects an analytical assessment of the ethnographic data. It includes a
descriptive analysis and
methodological
recommendations regarding an Islamic approach to local health reform.
The report is
divided into three sections (1) a description and analytical assessment of the
diverse and
fluid structures
of family and residence units in the area; (2) a survey of local Islamic
networks and institutions,
more specifically
networks of otincha
iii
(female
religious teachers), the institutions of Imam (religious leaders
and
administrators) and doml’ya (local lay and formal religious
leaders);
iv
and (3)
methodological
recommendations.
By institutions, I mean administrative religious units which operate under the
government’s
supervision. They
have a certain established structure which is not immutable to change. I call
them formal
units. By
networks I mean non-administrative, not dogmatically organized social
relationships. They have fluid
and temporary
structures which are (re)created situationally. I call these networks informal,
and the individuals
who constitute
them - informal religious leaders. In this study, I have identified the basic
structures and nuances
of these
networks/institutions and individuals who constitute them. These networks are
possible entry points for
local and
national health promotion in Uzbekistan and possibly elsewhere in the Central
Asia. Finally, I
recommend
methodological proceedings that (1) are contextually constructive, i.e. accepted
as defined by the
local population
as traditional
v
; and (2)
legitimize the framework and material, which address issues of
reproductive
health and family planning in the ZdravPlus project (Abt. Associates
Inc.).
vi
GEOGRAPHIC
AREA OF THE PILOT STUDY
Uzbekistan’s
territory in Ferghana Valley includes three oblast’ - Ferghana, Andijan,
and Namangan -
and several
rayons. Oblast’ is an administrative unit, which is smaller than
region but bigger than county. Rayon
is also an
administrative unit, which approximates to township. I conducted a pilot study
in the Ferghana
3
Oblast’
from the 30
th
of May until the
20
th
of June 2001.
During this time I was able to visit about forty local
families, four
masjids (mosques), and two hundred individuals residing in the Ferghana
oblast’ in the following
rayons and
cities: Yazyavan, Kuva, Ahumbabaev, Altiarik, and Furkat rayons, Ferghana city,
Margelan city, and
the city of
Kokand. I also made a trip to the Andijan oblast’, the city of Andijan
itself, where I was able to
observe and
conduct a brief open-ended interview with a human resources manager at a local
madrassah
(religious
school). I was, however, unable to meet with the madrassah’s scholars and
administrators. The
possibility of
such a meeting at the time was predicated on permission from a local
hakymyat
vii
(oblast’
administrative
apparatus), which I did not obtain beforehand. Thus, the data collected during
the study, on the
one hand,
reflects the limitations of access to the educational and administrative
departments of Islamic
institutions in
the area. On the other hand, it is informative about everyday religious and
social practices in the
aforementioned
communities.
I observed,
interviewed, and interacted with individuals and groups in the individuals’
homes,
individuals’
backyards, masjids (mosques), bazaars, and clinics. I find it unnecessary
to classify some settings as
private and
others as public, as indeed, during this study, some private places, such as
individual homes, were
situationally
transformed into public places during different occasions, such as Arabic
language studies or
memorial rituals
performed on the fortieth day after a burial service (qirq). On the other
hand, seemingly public
places, as
masjids, were, private places for the religious authorities and male
populations of the locales. Yet,
during my visits
these places were transformed into private areas where interviews and
discussions about some
personal matters
were conducted. Moreover, I intentionally visited with and observed the same
individuals in
different
settings, such as their homes, bazaars, group gatherings, and readings of
namaz (prayers). Hence I
pursued an
in-depth study of a relatively limited number of individuals in different
settings.
I met more than
forty families, extended and nuclear, and over two hundred individuals during
this four-
week pilot-study.
Some of these individuals, about sixty, are the members of the aforementioned
families.
Others, about one
hundred and forty, were either consultants or cultural brokers and experts in
such areas as
Islamic beliefs
and practices, medical practices or reproductive health.
In order to
carry out effective and efficient research, my methodological framework
consisted of the
following
ethnographic methods:
(1) Through the
application of participant-observation (e.g., Dewalt 1998), I both participated
in and
observed
religious practices, individual religious rites and rituals such as qirq
(a ritual performed on the
40
th
day after the
funeral), or duba (feasting and crying at the gravesite). I also observed
and participated
in interactions
among local religious leaders and local populations, among male and female
religious
leaders, and
among religious leaders and non-locals (such as migrants and foreigners). While
staying on
the weekends in
the otinchas’ homes, I tried to systematically observe (Johnson &
Sackett 1998) their
everyday
lives. Sometimes I took part in domestic chores pertaining to different
times of the day, in the
social
interactions surrounding them, and in religious rites and rituals performed at
home. Thus,
participant-observation
allowed me to gain an insight into the domestic chores, religious rites,
religious
celebrations,
family gatherings, intra-family and communal conflicts, debates, inconsistencies
and
compromises in
families’ everyday lives (e.g. Lamb 2000).
(2) Structured
interviews. Structured interviews were used in the early stage of the project.
They included a
preconceived set
of questions regarding religious practices and beliefs, morphological structure
of the
4
families,
religious networks and institutions (its members, fluidity of the membership,
frequencies of
their
gatherings), and their interconnectedness with other socio-cultural institutions
in the area such as
the
non-governmental organization Ishonchi (Trust) (cf.,Weller 1998). This
method helped me to
identify diverse
family models, religious beliefs and practices, and communal religious leaders,
both
male and female.
(3) Unstructured
or open-ended interviews. Unstructured or open-ended interviews covered such
thematic
topics as (1)
religious beliefs and practices; (2) relations within one’s family; (3)
interactions among the
members of an
extended family, and among the members of otincha networks; and (4)
bodily
experiences and
emotional conditions of otincha during the performance of the rituals
(e.g. Hare 1988,
Schweder &
LeVine 1994). I hope that this open-ended method created a comfortable and safe
environment
between the interviewee and interviewer, which was important in the process of
building
rapport (cf.,
LaCompte & Schensul 1999) and crucial in helping me to move from a
descriptive to an
explanatory
focus in my work. Furthermore, this method made it possible for me to discuss
with the
consultants the
material dealing with such sensitive issues as Islam, individuals’ spirituality,
and
individual
relationships with the Divine.
(4) Life history
approach. Collecting life histories is another ethnographic method that I
applied during the
second part of
the project (cf., Johnson, J. 1998). Life history as an autobiographic narration
given by an
individual about
the most significant events in one’s life was a crucial method at that stage of
the
research for two
reasons. First, it provided a venue for contextualizing and critically assessing
the
available
ethnographic data (e.g. Alimova & Azimova 2000, Akiner 1997) and, following
Buechler and
Buechler (1996),
the re-analysis and re-conceptualization of the complexity of families’ and
women’s
experiences in
the Ferghana oblast’. Second, individuals’ life histories served as both
mirrors and
windows for the
assessment of the dynamic religious beliefs and practices and their spiritual
and
political impact
on individuals’ lives in the area. Hence, the life history approach provided me
with an
ability to
represent the local diversity of religious women’s experiences (discussed in the
second part of
the report), of
models of family and decision-making (discussed in the first part of the
report), the
processes of
transformation of women’s (e.g. otincha’s) positions in the family and
society,
transformation
of the families in the area, and the contextualization of women experiences
vis-à-vis
experiences of
other socio-cultural networks within the wider social framework of the region
and
globally. Life
histories presented an insight not only a contextualized history of individual
women, but
also a history
of local peoples, and a history of the region and the country (e.g. Kamp 2001).
(5) Network
analysis. The final stage of the research and the analysis included network
analysis. Firstly,
through the
application of network analysis as a sampling method, I connected with a number
of
individuals that
constitute an individual otincha’s network and probed the intensity (in
terms of trust,
reliability, and
sincerity) of relationships between and among individuals constituting a
particular
cluster (cf.,
Barnes 1983, Gould 1993). This method helped me (1) to view an individual’s life
within a
context of other
individuals that s/he interacts with (e.g. Gulliver 1971); (2) to explore the
manner in
which an
individual constructs her/his identity with reference to those who surround
her/him; and (3)
how, in turn,
s/he is situated by others (e.g. Buechler & Buechler 1996). Finally, this
method allowed
me to trace the
regional and extra-regional extant of families’ and religious leaders’ networks
later at the
stage of the
data analysis.
(6) A survey.
This survey was conducted during a group interview and included a set of
questions
elucidating
local individuals’ knowledge about and attitudes towards reproductive health
among the
believers and
female religious leaders in the area. Regrettably, I did not have a chance to
conduct a
similar survey
among the male religious leaders in the area.
The
aforementioned research methods complemented each other. These methods allowed
the informants to
become the
interviewers and the researcher to become an interviewee; also the observed
individuals became the
observers of my
actions and responses. The awareness of this cultural negotiation informed the
latter analysis of
the data. Thus
interpretations and suggestions put forward in this report are not absolute.
They are informed by
my experiences in
and of the peoples living in the region during the duration of the project.
5
The project had
to do with two broad issues, family structure and religious networks. Forty
local families
constituted the
sample for the discussion of family structure, and forty local otincha
for the discussion of female
religious
networks. During the pilot-study I was able to get to know about forty local
otincha (ages 28 to 85),
meet with them on
more than on one occasion. I got to know closely ten of them. The thirty other
otincha I met
on different
occasions, yet, I was not able interview them.
The amount of
time spent in the field influenced my sampling strategies. The families were
chosen, first of
all, on the basis
of purposeful sampling in order to reach a targeted sample – local families and
otincha -
quickly. I admit
that proportionality was not the primary concern in this process. Secondly I
used a snowball
sampling whereby
I identified a couple of individuals who met the criteria of (1) having a family
of her/his own,
and (2) being
religious, i.e. practice Islamic beliefs on everyday basis. Then, I asked these
individuals to
recommend and
introduce me to other individuals whom they knew who met these criteria.
Snowball sampling
method allowed me
to identify religious networks of otincha, single parent and polygynous
families. Thus, the
individuals and
families which constituted my sample were not selected randomly. Consequently,
the population
sample that I
worked with may not accurately represent the population of the Ferghana
oblast’. Yet taking into
consideration the
time limitations of the research and the sensitivity of such topics as one’s
intra-family
relationships and
religious beliefs and practices, it was not practically feasible to do random
sampling (cf.,
Trochin 1999).
I.
FAMILY
STRUCTURES AND DECISION-MAKING
An individual
does not exist in isolation but always is situated within a human context. In
the Ferghana
Oblast’,
this context is the socio-cultural institution of family, which often takes
precedence over an individual
and serves as a
supporting network in an individual’s everyday
life.
viii
The family can
both constrain and enable
an individual’s
choices. For example, the well being of one’s family can determine the choice of
one’s spouse,
yet not to the
expense of the individual’s preferences on this matter.
Families in the
Ferghana oblast’ are diverse in terms of their composition and functions.
I have
identified
several models of family structures in the area, which I list below. However,
each individual family’s
structure and
composition in the Ferghana oblast’ is not limited to the suggested
models. These models are
analytical
abstractions that allow the researcher to consider the decision-making
strategies used by the individual
members of the
families in the area regarding families’ reproductive health. More specifically,
these models
offer a deeper
insight into such matters as who decides how many children should a family have,
should a
female of
reproductive age (approximately 15 – 45 years old) use contraception and what
kind, and when to start
giving
supplementary feedings to infants. In order to understand how these choices are
made and who makes the
choices, it is
important to understand the composition of a family and a
household.
ix
Reproductive
decision-making can be defined as cultural specifications
…concerning
who should have children, when childbearing should start, what is a desirable
interval between
children, and
[at] what juncture in social aging childbearing should cease” (Polgar, 1972,
p. 209; emphasis in the
original).
I want to
emphasize that reproductive decision-making is not limited to the family arena
in the Oblast’.
The networks of
relatives, friends, co-workers, neighbors, medical doctors and religious leaders
are involved in
reproductive
decision-making processes as well. In this report I suggest that the role of
religious leaders is
crucial in
considering the articulation and implementation of an Islamic dimension of
health reform. Below, I
demonstrate the
connections between family, reproductive health and religious institutions. But
let me begin
with the
description of several family and decision-making models.
6
Family
Structure
Family structure
in Uzbekistan is often defined by social scientists as patriarchal, i.e. the
decision-
making power is
concentrated in the hands of male members of the family, and patrilocal, i.e. a
married couple
lives with (or
near) the husband’s father’s family (op.cit., Akiner, 1997 p. 227). Based
on my research, this
general model
neither gives an adequate description of everyday interactions within a family
nor does it explain
the meaning and
the function of its individual units in regard to reproductive health
decision-making. In the
following
sections I describe and explicate (1) contextual variation of family models and
(2) decision-making
processes within
several families in the Ferghana oblast’.
The
socio-cultural institution of family constitutes an important aspect of an
individual’s life and
provides
instruments, such as marriage, that assure social reproduction, i.e., continuity
of a society. More
specifically,
marriage is a socio-cultural institution and a social process that often
involves a man and a woman,
transforms the
participants (both physically and socially), the relationships among the kin of
each party, and
assures
continuity of social patterns through the production of offspring who have
certain rights and obligations
(Schultz &
Lavenda, 1995 p. 321).
Sonalia, one of
the informants, nicely summarized marriage patterns in the Ferghana
oblast’:
Marriage…Sometimes
we marry our cross cousins or parallel cousins. We cannot marry a brother or a
sister, aunts,
uncles or
nephews. Often our marriages are arranged. Usually elders (parents and
grandparents) would make an
arrangement;
women (mothers or grandmothers) more often than men. The groom’s relatives are
supposed t o initiate
the
arrangement. The bride’s or the groom’s parents should approve the choice of the
spouse. If parents do not
approve their
child’s choice then the marriage arrangement might be terminated. Parents’
approval is very
important.
We, two families, have to live together. If we do not like each other, how can
we live together? We all see
and
understand that. Even young children agree… (interview, 5/30/01).
It is difficult
to generalize about marriage patterns in the Ferghana oblast’. At large
there is no single model
which could apply
to the peoples in the area. Yet, the research prompted me to make the following
conclusions.
First, marriage
in the Ferghana oblast’ often is arranged. Out of forty families,
thirty-five claimed to have
arranged
marriages. Second, the incest taboo excludes immediate relatives such as
brothers, sisters, mother,
father, uncle,
aunts or nephews. It is possible to marry one’s cross cousins or parallel
cousins. Third, there is a
rare marriage
pattern among the peoples in Ferghana oblast’: it is an exchange of
brides between two otherwise
unrelated
families. The brides can be exchanged in the same or different generations. Four
families in the area
showed evidence
of this pattern. Otherwise marriage partners are chosen on the basis of their
education, social
and economic
status, and the status and lived experiences of his or her family in the
community.
x
In the Ferghana
Oblast’, neolocal and patrilocal are the prevalent patterns of
postmarital residence. Almost
three fourth of
the sample, thirty families, have patrilocal residence, and one fourth –
neolocal. Patrilocal
residence is a
common postmarital residence pattern, at least during the initial stage of
marriage, in the Ferghana
oblast’.
It is represented by a group of consanguinally related men – a male ego, his
brothers, their sons, and
their in-marrying
wives. In other words, patrilocal residence means that a married couple lives
with or near the
7
husband’s father.
Neolocal residence is a type of residence in which the new couple sets up an
independent
household at a
place of their own choosing.
Among the
families that populate the Ferghana oblast’, neolocal residence in the
initial stage of the marriage
is less
prevalent. Yet, even the families residing with the parents of the husband, in
time (unless the husband is
the younger or
the only son) will move into an independent household. The place for a new
household can be a
young family’s
own choice. This decision is, however, negotiated within the extended family, as
the following
suggests:
Sonalia
always wanted to marry a good man who physically and spiritually would resemble
her father. Her
supplication
to the Allah often included a request for the God’s guidance on the matter of
finding an appropriate
spouse.
Looking back at twenty-five years of her married life, Sonalia says that the
Allah answered her prayers. Alim,
Sonalia’s
husband, is a third son in the family of five sons. When he and Sonalia got
married they lived with his parents
for a period
o f six years. Later they build their own house across the street from his
parents in the same qishlaq – they
created their
own, separate nest, where their life and work evolved around their growing
family. Alim’s job required
him to spend
more time in the city and the family moved into a city’s residential district,
into a new apartment. The
house in the
qishlaq, however, was and still is their home. Alim’s parents and his younger
brother with his family live
across the
road in the qishlaq. Sonalia’s parents, brothers and their families, and her
sister’s family all live in the same
qishlaq as
well. Sonalia and Alim’s love for their home in the qishlaq is represented by
the poetics of ariq (the body of
the running
water on the side of the road), a fruit garden, a sparrow’s nest under the
gate’s arch and the shadow of the
grape leaves
over the back yard. Additionally, the home means social responsibilities towards
the other members of
their
extended family. It means social relationships that are nurtured and sustained
through the shared talk, food, tears
and laughter
in everyday of their lives (recollections from the diary 05/30/01 &
06/12001).
xi
Based on my
observations in May and June 2001, three types of the family structures –
nuclear,
extended, and
joint - exist in the Ferghana oblast’. These types are intertwined with
and complicated by
residence
patterns, in that they reflect residence patterns more than they actually
reflect extended networks of an
individual and
family relationships. Every individual and family in the Ferghana oblast’
were situated within a
wider than family
network of relatives and friends. Additionally, family structures in the area
are rather diverse,
i.e., they differ
from family to family, and fluid, i.e., they change overtime. This is to say
that an individual
family type is
not static. It has a potential for transformation from an extended to nuclear to
a joint type of
family and vice
versa, as in fact we see in Sonalia’s story above.
Five out of the
forty families that constituted the sample were nuclear families. The nuclear
families in
the area consist
of two generations, the parents and their unmarried children, and can be divided
into
monogamous and
polygynous types. In the former type, a husband has one wife and intra-family
relationships
evolve around
relationships between husband and wife, parents and children, and among the
children.
In the research
sample two families out of forty were polygynous. In the polygynous family, a
husband
has more than one
wife. The wives may or may not know about each other’s existence, and may or may
not
have children. A
second wife usually lives in a separate household, although anecdotal evidences
suggest that it
is possible for
both wives to share the same household if the first wife is either infertile or
needs medical care. In
the case of the
two families, the wives did not share the same household and knew about each
other existence.
Both of them had
children from parented by the same man. One of these two marriages was a legal
marriage;
another one was
legitimized as a religious marriage (nikoh in Arabic).
The
relationships between co-wives in Ferghana oblast’s families differ in
intensity and intimacy. In
one of the
interviews (06/01/01), the interviewee stated that it is possible that co-wives
occupying the same
residence unit
would interact with each other more often and create some sort of a friendly or
a competitive
bond. The
relationships among them would therefore differ from the relationships between
the co-wives residing
in different
households. During the research I did not observe or to interacted with families
with co-residing co-
8
wives, and
consequently was unable to test the intensity of these relationships. Thus, it
is possible that the
polygynous
families are not extended in the area.
Hence, the
relationships among the members of polygynous families in the area revolve
around the
same relational
lines as in monogamous families and, additionally, around relationships between
husband and
co-wives, between
co-wives and among their offspring. Finally, relationships within polygynous
families
transform over
time as well: spouses may get a divorce, remarry, change residencies, or die.
Annush’ and
Nargiza’s life-histories exemplify the relationships and their possible
(trans)formations between
two co-wives and
between the co-wives and their husband:
Annush’s
husband kept his second marriage a secret. Annush knew about his second
marriage; a friend-of-a-friend
broke the
news to her. She never reproached the husband on this matter. They continue to
live as if nothing had
happened. Her
husband would occasionally spend the nights elsewhere. Annush never asked where
or why. When they
did spend
time together, he was very generous and kind – “because of guilt” says Annush.
They talked about their
kids,
relatives, and petty everyday problems. They did not talk about love; they had
no time. The now-co-wives would
occasionally
meet at communal affairs, such as “qirq” (a memorial service) or a “toy” (a
wedding). They exchange a
couple of
friendly phrases and even occasionally visit each other. Annush could not and
did not want to compete with
the second
wife for their husband’s love and affection. She did not hate the second wife.
She did not hate her husband.
She felt
nothing: nothing at all. Annush used to say that everything that she felt for
her husband died inside of her. It
was burning,
but now his place is empty and the only thing that keeps her going in this
relationship are her children,
their
well-being and future (field notes, 6/6/01).
On the way to
a friend’s house, Nargiza was whispering in my ear the story about her mother’s
disclosure of her
father’s
second marriage. After the unpleasant discovery, Nargiza’s mother spent weeks in
contemplation about the
future of h
er marriage and family. In a year period Nargiza’s parents were divorced. “The
divorce was my mother’s
decision,”
Nargiza remarked at the end. She smiled (field notes,
6/22/01).
I have also
identified single-parent families among families in the Ferghana oblast’.
These families include a
single mother,
who can be a widow, divorced or not married, and a child or children. The mother
and her
children reside
either neolocally, or in her natal household (with her parents). The ex-husband
is expected to
bear social and
financial responsibility toward his children. The in-laws, ex-husband’s parents
and other
relatives
participate in the children’s lives as well. More often, however, it is the
wife’s parents who provide
social and
financial support for the children and the mother. Three families in the sample
had wife’s parents care
for the children
and the mother. In rare cases, the single mother bears all the weight of social
and financial
support for her
children. Finally, divorced or widowed spouses are able to remarry and create
new families.
Mahutpharat’s
husband died in a car accident a couple of years ago. Her mother-in-law could
not bear his death and
committed
suicide. Her older daughter died in childbirth. Her daughter’s husband, a drag
addict, is incarcerated and
will not get
released for another five years. So now Mahutpharat is taking care not only of
her younger children – she
has another
daughter and a son - but also of her two grandchildren. Mahutpharat’s parents
are too old to help her
with the kids
or financially. The in-laws do not help either. So, Mahutpharat, a forty two
year old woman, has to rely
upon her wits
and hard work, doing a little trading at the local bazaar, and rely “upon the
Allah and kind people” in
order to
raise four children. “We live one day at a time, Svetlanahon. One day at a time.
We do not complain,” said
Mahutpharat
in one of the interviews (field notes and interview, 06/20/01).
The majority of
families in my research sample (thirty families) were extended, meaning that
three or four
generations –
parents, married children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren – live
together. Extended
families
transform overtime. Married children move to newly built homes or apartments.
Parents die. It is a
younger son and
his family (his wife and children) who usually stays with his parents and
provides for them
both physically
and financially. Hence, extended family as a social unit persists in the
Ferghana oblast’.
Extended family
is a general and vague category. Following Kolenda (1968), I suggest to talk
about family
structures in the
oblast’ in terms of the joint family category, i.e., a family, which
includes two or more related
married couples.
Applying this category to the sample I suggest that there are more lineal joint
families than
9
collateral joint
families in the oblast’. Following Kolenda (1968) by lineal joint
families I mean two couples
with a lineal
link between them, such as parents and a younger married son. By collateral
joint families I mean
two or more
married couples with a sibling bond between them, such as “brother-brother
relationships - plus
unmarried
children” (Kolenda 1968:346).
As I have stated
in the previous sections, family structures in the Ferghana oblast’ are
fluid. For
example, in a
nuclear family an older son gets married and his wife moves into his parents’
household. They
have a child and
the family becomes lineal joint family. When the same son marries a second wife,
the family
becomes
polygynous (often without parents’ and the first wife’s knowledge). From the
other vantage point, the
son, his second
wife and their children represent a nuclear family. Later, the younger son gets
married and his
wife moves into
his parents’ residence. When the elderly parents die, the family is no longer
lineal joint family.
It becomes a
collateral joint family, where brothers and their wives or sisters and their
husbands live together. If
the elder
brother’s first wife gets a divorce and moves out; he and his second wife
becomes a monogamous
couple. These
transformations of the same family provide different opportunities for
relationships among the
family members
at different points of the family’s history.
The
transforming family structures imply the continual transformation of
relationships among its
individual
units, which are directly reflected in the decision-making processes within a
family. These changes in
social
relationships make decision-making processes within a family multi-layered and
complex. I want to
emphasize that
consideration of multiple actors and their contesting agendas is extremely
important in the
analysis of the
decision-making processes within a family. Consequently, the decision made in
the process is
shaped by the
multiple points of view and therefore bears their imprint. Thus, intra-family
decision-making
processes are
negotiated: even a dominant actor’s agenda in the process of decision-making is
mediated and
contested by
other actors’ agendas. Finally, while making a decision the actors often
consider the outcomes of
the decision and
possible changes in the social relationships.
xii
The following
brief life-story exemplifies this process:
Giving into
her husband and mother-in-law’s insistence she decided to stop using IUD and get
pregnant. Before
executing
the decision, she consulted with her mother and her gynecologist. No health
reasons are given to the
prevention
of pregnancy. The contraception could be terminated. She realized that the
decision to terminate
contraception
would affect her husband, her in-laws, her children and her parents. Her husband
will perform sexually
more
regularly in order to impregnate her. He will also have to start thinking about
saving money for a future child.
Her in-laws,
as she happens to live with her husband’s parents, will start preparing presents
for a future grandchild,
thus
decreasing the allowance for other family needs. Her sister-in-law will take on
a partial physical load of house
chores that
the expecting mother is responsible for. As a result, small complaints will grow
into conflicts between her
and her
sister-in-law. Although her parents may expect to see their daughter more often
in their house, where she can
rest from
the house duties and the routine, she anticipates her brother’s wife to be
disappointed with the additional
cooking and
cleaning. Her children are expected to take part in the child caring and to
share their food. After a critical
reassessment
of the expected social and financial changes, the husband and the wife decided
to postpone having a child
(field
notes, 06/15/01).
Although
individuals may consider the outcome of the decision, the outcomes do not solely
determine their
behavior. For
example, an additional child in a family with five children might be a financial
burden for this
family; the
financial burden would not necessarily preclude the family from having the
child. There are no
theoretical
axioms, which would explain the variety of human choices (see Crosbie, 1972).
10
Marriage and
family are not abstract socio-cultural systems as they form a critical part of
individuals’
lived
experiences. Their crucial aspect is sexual intercourse. Spiro argues that a
desire for sexual relationships is
a strong
motivation for getting married (Spiro, 1997). In the Ferghana oblast’,
marriage is in a sense a formal
prerequisite for
becoming sexually active, at least for females. I have not gathered any data
that would allow me
to address
premarital affairs.
Intercourse
brings both physical and spiritual pleasure to the parties engaged in it and
serves as a
reproductive
social mechanism. Every society is concerned with “self” perpetuation. In order
to ensure its social
reproduction, a
society develops a complex of ritual practices and beliefs which are a subject
to change. There is
a complex of
ritual and social practices and beliefs that ensures reproduction in the area.
First, there is a strong
ideological
drive to have many children. Children are thought of as the wealth of the old
days, even if they are a
financial
disaster in their youth. Second, there are several social practices already in
place in the Ferghana
oblast’
which regulate reproduction. In the following sections I will discuss some of
them.
Abortions and
IUDs are still the predominant methods of fertility regulation in the Ferghana
oblast’ (as
elsewhere in the
post-Soviet world). Only in the last ten years did the medical emphasis begin to
shift from the
termination of a
pregnancy to preventive contraception. Still the majority of women in the area
use IUDs.
According to
local gynecologists (six local gynecologists were consulted on different
occasions), IUDs often
create problems
with the menstrual cycle (field notes, 06/04/01). Their improper maintenance
results in vaginal
or ovarian
infections and inflammations.
At a group
interview with twelve local women at one of the local clinics, the women stated
that on the
matter of
contraception they often decide themselves.
xiii
But the women
also identified a number of actors who
influence their
decisions: the gynecologist, husband, mother-in-law, sisters, and their friends.
Islamic rights and
obligations,
such as moral and financial responsibility towards children and the need to
consult with their
husbands on the
matter of contraception, influence women’s decisions as well. Some women
reported that they
followed their
gynecologist’s recommendations. Others gave priority to their husband’s advice
about a method
of
contraception, yet others made this decision themselves or got an advice from
their friends.
Ten of the
twelve women reported using an IUD as the main contraceptive device. The women’s
preference of
the IUD device seems to be based on three main factors: IUD’s efficiency (“easy
to take care of”),
its relative low
maintenance (“less visits to the doctor”), and its monetary value (“it costs
less than other
methods”)
(interview 06/04/01). Two women reported using a surgical method of
contraception, terminal or
temporary
sterilization.
xiv
None of the
women reported taking contraceptive pills. A fear of hormonal imbalance
seems to be
socially pervasive among the local women. I suggest this fear in part precludes
women from using
oral
contraceptives. The women also reported that there are several families in their
qishlaqs (villages) and
elsewhere who
have ten to sixteen children, and expressed a concern about social and financial
conditions of
these large
families (interview 06/04/01).
To summarize,
within a majority of local families in the area, the mother–in-law and
the husband play
important roles
in the decision-making regarding reproductive health of the family (field notes
06/04/01,
06/10/01). Yet,
the contemporary socio-political and economic conditions in Uzbekistan made the
Ferghana
oblast’s
families and their structures more flexible and adaptive. Consequently,
reproductive decisions
increasingly
include other extra-family actors. Friends, co-workers, religious leaders,
international groups and
companies, and
mass media have their stake in the process of individual decision-making as
well. Hence, the
local women are
not passive victims, but active participants in the decision-making process
regarding their
reproductive
choices. Local gynecologists and nurses play an important role in the
reproductive health of a
11
family through
the local clinics, which provide in-patient services for and home visitations of
local women and
their families
and general reproductive health promotion.
Additionally,
in the single-parent families, the main actors in the reproductive
decision-making
processes are
the female, her parents, and her current partner. In the polygynous families,
the decision-making
processes
regarding reproductive health is more complicated. In order to understand these
processes, one has to
make a
distinction between the first and the second wives: their reproductive decisions
may be premised more
on the desire to
compete for the husband’s attention, or to terminate pregnancy as a result of
the disillusionment
in the husband
and failed expectations of the monogamous marriage. The wives’ place of
residence also plays an
important role
in the decision-making processes. The wife living with the husband’s parents may
be subjected to
the pressure by
her mother-in-law, whereas the wife living in the neolocal residence would
consider her own
mother’s advice
on the reproductive matters. These decisions also reflect the socio-economic
standing of the
families. Thus,
to say that mother-in-law and husband play important roles in the family’s
decision-making
regarding
reproductive matters is not to say that these roles are limited to the
aforementioned structural
positions. Other
actors and other considerations are as important and as persuasive in the
Ferghana oblast’.
xv
Folk
contraceptive practices
Discussion of
sexual intercourse is a taboo topic, which is raised only within a safe and
friendly or medical
environment. It
usually resulted in the following response among the women in the Ferghana
oblast’,
I used
different methods of contraception: I used injections, I used IUD, and I also
had an abortion. But none of the
methods
worked for me. With IUD I had bleeding; through injection I’ve developed disgust
towards my husband.
Condoms do
not work for us. My husband does not receive full pleasure (interview,
06/01/01).
When medical
contraception fails to provide comfortable and safe physical condition, women
can always fall
back on the folk
methods.
During the
study I collected data which reflects some of the folk contraceptive methods in
the Ferghana
oblast’.
These methods are as follows:
1.
Menstrual
calendar based on the 28
th
days cycle:
1-8
th
day is safe for
intercourse; 10-20
th
day – unsafe;
21-28 is safe.
2.
A tampon with
cotton oil is inserted inside the vagina before the intercourse.
3.
Manganese-water
under pressure is used to wash out the sperm from the vagina after the
intercourse.
4.
In order to
create an alkali environment a piece of lye-based household soap is
inserted inside the
vagina before
or/and after an intercourse.
5.
The practice
al-azl (coitus interruptus) is another contraceptive method, which
is supported as a
sanctioned
method of contraception in the Qur’an.
6.
Personal urine
is used to wash out the sperm outside and inside the vagina.
7.
Condoms are
also used. Yet, they are believed to cause skin irritation and to decrease the
level of
pleasure during
intercourse. Males complain about negative effects of condoms more often than
females.
Another
important social mechanism that regulates reproductive choices is a
postpartum sex taboo. By
postpartum sex
taboo, I mean a fallow period or a period of rest of the mother after the
childbirth, whereby a
wife and a
husband are supposed to abstain from sexual intercourse for forty days after
delivery. In practice,
however, sexual
intercourse can reconvene as soon as a week after the delivery. Some women admit
that if their
husbands insist,
they have to comply, not necessarily uneagerly (field notes 06/04/01, 06/1/01).
One of the
strategies
employed by women in order to assure a fallow period is to move into their natal
homes (with their
parents) for
forty days. Although the period of forty days is formulaic - it is required by
the Islamic Law – in
practice it is
often violated. The postpartum sex taboo serves as one mechanism
of contraception. The period of
lactation
assures a certain level of contraception as well. According to the
Shari’ah, the length of the lactation
12
period is ninety
weeks, meaning that a baby should be breastfed for two years at least, and a
female would not
conceive for
this period of time. In practice, however, this period is often shortened, both
because lactation-as-
contraception
fails and a female gets pregnant, or because of other socio-economic
considerations.
The most
elaborate social practices and beliefs are related to female infertility. The
issue of infertility is
especially
poignant in a context where ideological framework about individual existence and
socio-cultural
benefits is
predicated on the female fertility and female procreative abilities (for a
comparative analysis see
Inhorn, 1996).
There are different contextual ways of addressing female infertility in the
Ferghana oblast’. Aside
from the medical
treatment that every woman is supposed to have an access to through “women’s
consultations,”
xvi
infertile women
use other folk methods of overcoming infertility. Some of these methods are
visitation and
veneration of the sacred places, purchase of neonatal infant’s hair, and certain
physical procedures
and prayers,
which are performed by the folk healers and religious leaders. Considering
spatial restrictions, I am
unable to talk
at length about every method. Thus, for the purposes of the report I will
briefly describe the
aforementioned
methods.
Sacred places
are in abundance in the Ferghana oblast’. Such sacred places in the area
as Yuvosh ota-pirim,
Hujand
Poshsho, and Bibi-Fotima are burial places of saints with a mausoleum or a
fenced grave. Some of them
are situated in
the parks, next to the graveyards, and become places of communal gatherings and
feasting in the
oblast’
qishlaqs. The burial places of the saints are separated from the feasting
areas.
Infertile women
come to the sacred places to be healed both spiritually and physically and
become pregnant
shortly after.
They come early in the morning and stay at the place for several hours. They
often bring a
domestic animal
which will be slaughtered near the sacred place, along with vegetables and
fruits, a piece of
white cloth and
some money. The sheikh (a male or female keeper of the place) receives
the white oqaqk (cloth)
of about three
meters. The oqaqk can also be left on the sacred gravesite. The meat of
the slaughtered animal
and vegetables
are used to cook osh (rice and lamb dish) and/or domlah (meat and
potatoes dish). Before the
food is cooked
and consumed, women clean the space around the sacred grave. They sprinkle water
and sweep
the ground.
These actions symbolize both the respect for the saint and the purification of
the holy ground and
women’s bodies
from negative spirits and “evil eyes,” which believed to affect women’s ability
to conceive.
The water
settles down both the dust and women’s anxiety (field notes, 06/06/01, 06/14/01,
and 06/14/01).
Another
remedial practice regarding female infertility (or miscarriage) is a purchasing
of a neonatal infant’s
hair. This
practice includes a longitudinal set of rituals that start with the purchase of
the infant’s hair. Strictly
speaking, this
purchase is not an economic transaction. One does not simply buy infant’s
hair. One exchanges a
gratuity fee for
the infant’s hair. The purchased hair is kept under the woman’s pillow for
several days, and then
put in a
suitcase. If a female did get pregnant sometime after the ritual, she has to
thank the saint. Furthermore,
her newborn
baby’s hair becomes a valuable unit in this shared chain of fertility. The
infant’s hair, a small area
on the top of
the child’s head, is kept unshaved until a sequential ritual of shaving the hair
is performed.
In a year, the
family that has been blessed with a child sacrifices a lamb and redistributes
the meat among
their neighbors,
relatives, and the poor, so that all of the above would enjoy the meal and give
thanks to Allah
for this
blessing. The family makes osh (a lamb and rice dish) and consumes it
within the family circle. The
elders in the
family or religious leaders, otincha (female religious teachers) or
mullah (male religious teachers)
invited for this
occasion, read the Qur’an during the meal and give thanks to Allah for
the child. Later this day
the unshaved
piece of the baby’s hair is shaved off (either at home or at the sacred
place)
xvii
and brought
back to
the sacred
place. Someone else will purchase it and possibly conceive a child perpetuating
this chain of shared
fertility.
Finally, there
are folk remedial procedures performed by local healers or/and
otincha that are thought to
treat
infertility. I disclaim the popularity of these procedures. They are used very
infrequently, if at all. Yet,
these procedures
still constitute the cultural memory about methods which address the issue of
infertility.
xviii
The local
healers are called momokamper or karakamper, meaning elderly women. They
said to possess
special
knowledge and power to appeal to the appropriate divine
source
xix
and to perform
certain methods of
massages that
“awake” and “develop” female procreative organs. The ritual often includes
prayers and sacrifice
of chickens or
other domestic animals. The massages are performed afterwards. Some
momokamper
recommend using
hot sand on the stomach of a barren woman. Others recommend buying infant’s hair
at the
sacred places,
while some momokamper prepare a steam bath and perform vaginal massages.
13
Although women
are the primary patients of the momokamper, she also treats men who are
impotent or
sterile. I was
told that there are special sacrifices and special herbs collected in the
mountains to treat men’s
impotency. Since
males often keep their impotence a secret, the details of these procedures are
mainly unknown.
Another
physical procedure that is thought to cure infertility or to prevent a possible
miscarriage is “the
shaking of the
stomach”. The momokamper smoothly palpates and then shakes the stomach of
a pregnant female
who previously
had one or several miscarriages. This movement is thought to awaken the baby and
prevent a
miscarriage. It
has been reported that if a female cannot get pregnant (often diagnosed
infertility), her internal
organs – uterus
in particularly - need to be “awakened” as well (an interview, 06/20/01). In
this case the
momokamper
prepares a black chicken’s egg, which is warmed up and cracked. The yolk of the
egg is put in the
palm of the
momokamper’s hand and then inserted into a female’s vagina. The vagina is
said to “sack in the
yolk.” The yolk
is believed to enhance female’s fertility.
Indeed, in the
Ferghana oblast’, reproductive practices are situated on the crossroads
of intra-family
relationships,
socio-economic considerations, social control of sexuality and personal
networks. By intra-family
relationships I
mean the transforming relationships among the husband, wife, in-laws, children,
and other
relatives who
co-reside or not within a household. Social networks are extremely important in
regard to
reproductive
practices as well. All members of the local communities are positioned within
constantly
transforming
social relationships that include family members, members of one’s household,
neighbors,
professional
acquaintances, co-workers, doctors, teachers, friends, local religious leaders,
and local authorities.
Sumaya’s story
exemplifies how a decision-making process regarding her reproductive health
became the
concern of many
individuals (members of her personal networks). This process transformed the
participants and
the
relationships among them. Hence, Sumaya’s reproductive health is an ongoing
process and multileveled and
complex
project, which is still unresolved (personal communications, An-Naim,
1997). This story is based on
interviews,
observations (06/02/01 – 06/22/01), and more recent electronic communications
(07/07/01).
Sumaya’s
story
I met Sumaya
at her brother’s “toy” (wedding). I did not see her right away. She was hiding
behind the piles of cloths
and scarves
that were given as presents to the newlyweds.
At the “toy”
everyone seemed to have a good time. A band from the city of Fergona (Ferghana)
was performing a
high-pitch,
rich in cords and differing notes, melody. Its upbeat rhythm made my feet and
shoulders move with the
singer’s
voice, along the hyperbolic line of melody. Some guests were dancing. Others
were watching and talking.
They would
occasionally come into the dancing area and put banknotes in the hands of the
dancers. The decoration of
the dancers
with banknotes would later become a gratuity fee to the band.
The groups
of guests rotated around the clock. I got into this spinning visiting crowd
around 1 p.m. at the time when
men were
cooking “osh” (rice and lamb dish). “Toy” is a special occasion, I was told,
where women are only helping
the men by
serving the food to the guests. They had done their share of cooking the night
before. The tables were
gendered,
except for the one with the foreigners. I was positioned there first, and later
moved to several other tables:
one for
women only, another only for men. There was also a generational separation among
the tables and their
occupants.
The elders were seated at some tables and youngsters, mainly kids, were at the
others. The friends of the
newlyweds
had not yet arrived that afternoon.
After
practicing my “Iltimaz kishiri rsimga olsam mailimi?” [I am sorry; can I take
your picture?] I ventured into the
breathing,
pinching, and chuckling crowd of children who led me into the space occupied by
the older women. These
women, the
mother of the groom among them, allowed me to enter the living space of the
newly weds. This is where I
found
Sumaya. Her mother apologized, “My older daughter who is married, Sumaya. She is
not well. She has a
headache.”
Generously permitting me to photograph the presents hanging one over the other
on every wall, in several
rows, and
piled up on the floor, the mother left the room. I stayed there for a moment,
uncomfortably hiding my gaze
and
curiosity into the piles of presents, while feeling Sumaya’s eyes burning
through my right temple. I turned
towards her
and asked her name again. “Sumaya” she replied in Russian, her voice trembling.
She smiled. I
interpreted
her smile as willingness to talk and off we went into the celebrating crowd
outside.
14
While in the
crowd, I was afraid to let Sumaya’s hand go. I did not want to lose a chance to
hear her story, to
understand
this sadness in her eyes and weakness of her voice. I was afraid never to found
out why was she there
without her
husband, why did she have a headache, and why was she hiding? Millions of
mysterious and exotic
scenarios
battled in my head “she loves her brother… no, she hates her husband whom she’s
married against her
will…maybe,
she is abused by her husband or mother-in-law…or, she is pregnant and does not
want his child…
possibly…”
The real answers to these questions escaped me.
I was wrong
about all of these scenarios. What really mattered to Sumaya at that time was
infertility. She could not
get
pregnant. Not that I asked her about it. She initiated this information herself.
Sumaya got
married last year (2000), when she was 22 years old. The mullah from the
“qishlaq” (village) performed
the
ceremony. Sumaya and her husband never used contraception. The year passed, but
she was not pregnant. Later
she was
diagnosed with a small “undeveloped” uterus. Sumaya knew that it was a medical
issue: it was not a curse
or God’s
punishment. She understood that there were ways of improving her condition. She
also realized that it has
been a year
of medications, hopes, injections, hospitals, reassurances, yet, she could not
conceive. “The only thing
that I
want”, said Sumaya, - her words cut through the music and the noise of the
wedding - “is to have a baby. I am
afraid I
will not be able though.” She smiled. I swallowed the tears that were not
allowed on such a wonderful day.
“Our
choices” I thought, “our priorities…” I was working on finding the ways to
promote contraception and family
planning.
She was working on getting pregnant by any means necessary. If it took
injections of penicillin in her
ovaries,
Sumaya was ready for it. If it took a stay for a couple of months in the
hospital, Sumaya was ready for it as
well.
There was a
reason why Sumaya decided to share this personal information with me. When we
were talking about her
wedding, she
disclosed her condition abruptly. One would think that infertile women would try
to avoid the topic. In
fact to ask
them about their condition is considered a cultural felony in the Ferghana
oblast’. I was not about to cross
the boarder
of cultural propriety. It was Sumaya who was interested in what I knew about
reproductive health,
infertility
and the ways of treating it specifically. Her eyes filled with hope; her face
brightened up. In response to her
inquiry, I
promised to find out what else can be done in regard to the treatment of
infertility except for the methods
that she has
used so far.
For the next
couple of days I asked those whom I knew in the Abt’s office and among the Peace
Corps volunteers
about the
most efficient treatment of infertility and about a facility that provides s uch
treatment. In three days, I found
the address
of and the connection to the best clinic that specializes in treatment of
infertility in Uzbekistan, in
Tashkent.
I drove this
information back to Sumaya’s father’s home. She, visibly slimmer and sadder, met
me at the gates. Her
father-in-law was
there as well. I collected all my bluntness and spoke out my mind about the
necessity of both
Sumaya and
her husband being tested for infertility and possibly going for treatment in
Tashkent together. Her father-
in-law
agreed. She smiled. Her father smiled as well, but his eyes were touched with
sadness. Sumaya’s mother ran to
the kitchen
to get another teapot of green tea. When Sumaya’s father-in-law left, her mother
started to cry, wrapping
in tears the
story about a difficult life without children, people’s talk, in-laws aloofness,
her hurting heart, and
Sumaya’s
pain that the mother has to share with the daughter. Sumaya’s father patted his
wife on the shoulder and
walked with
me into the room - swiping the tears off his face - where he promised to collect
enough money to send
Sumaya to
the Tashkent clinic. I do not think that he made a promise to me. Who am I, a
visitor that will be gone in a
couple of
weeks? I think he made a promise to himself, using me as a witness.
Sumaya was
hospitalized in two days after our last meeting with high blood pressure and
persisting headaches. The
latest news
that I received through the electronic mail about Sumaya was encouraging. She
was out of the hospital
and her
father was saving money for she and her husband’s trip to Tashkent.
In the Sumaya’s
story, her reproductive behavior became not only her and her husband’s family’s
concern.
Different
individuals played and continue to play important roles in the decision-making
processing regarding
her infertility
and possible pregnancy. Some of these actors are Sumaya’s parents, her distant
relatives in
Tashkent, her
father’s and mother’s friends in the Ferghana oblast’, her college
friends and co-workers in the
city of
Ferghana, local religious leaders, the researchers (myself included), and the
Peace Corps volunteers who
15
are American
citizens. Sumaya’s reproductive health is now both a local and a global concern.
Second, these
processes are
multi-layered and complex. They are predicated on the economic status of
Sumaya’s family, her
in-laws’ and her
parents’ families. Such questions as how much should be invested in the medical
treatment and
who will
contribute the money are crucial in the processes of decision-making about
Sumaya’s reproductive
health.
Let me now turn
to an examination of the religious networks and institutions active in the
Ferghana oblast’. I
will present a
survey of local Islamic institutions; more specifically, networks of
otincha (female religious
teachers and
leaders), institutions of the Imam (mosques’ leaders and administrators), and
doml’ya (local
mullahs).
I want to clarify the terminological divergence between networks of
otincha and institutions of the
Imam and
doml’ya.
xx
By institutions
I mean administrative religious units which operate under the government’s
supervision.
They have a certain established structure which change slowly over time. I call
them formal units. |
