Aiperi's Kyrgyz Grandfather and His Education

This story begins in the late 1938.  Our family was living in the village called Nookat, on the North of the Kyrgyzstan. There were only 5 neighbour families in our village. We had a house with 5 rooms and a farm with 200 sheep, 10 cows and 5 horses. Our family was large; there were 11 children in our family: 4 boys and 7 girls, of course for the new generation having 11 children in one family sounds very unusual but for us it was ok, because it was some kind of tradition.

          I was the smallest one in our family. None of us could write or read that is why I thought that I am the only person who can be educated. I was dreaming of reading, writing, calculating and so on. Well the first thing what I did was that I shared my idea of studying at school with my father. But the only thing that I heard from him was “No! Forget about it!” This answer got me disappointed.  But desire of studying still existed in me. Well what I did next!!! One day I with my 3 other friends planned to go to school and try to study. How I remember now it was 21 of September.  We woke up early in the morning and began our “journey” to school. It took us 5 hours to get there, of course on foot because at that time there were no cars, no buses, and no bicycles. Eventually we came to school. It was just named as a school, because there was only one room with no desks, no tables, no blackboards, well there was nothing except the poster of our leader V.I.Lenin. In the room were 5 other pupils and a teacher whose name was Aigul. And our first lesson was Kyrgyz language. Because of no notebooks we were writing on the floor with a rack. That day we had two lessons as I already said Kyrgyz language and mathematics. I found it very interesting and exciting. I was the happiest person in the world. When I came home and told my father about lessons he got angry and prohibited me from school. But in spite of it, I continued visiting.

Time passes and came one of the most frightful days in the life of the Soviet people - 21 of June of 1939. This awful day in the morning we got information from the radio that Germany attacked the Soviet Union. Our village was shocked and came to a standstill. At that time couldn’t realize what was happening. War? What is it? We didn’t even know about it. Next day all volunteers from our village were collected and transported to the battle-front. Among them were my father and my two elder brothers. Well, why did they do this? The answer is simple – they were patriots of their motherland, they were patriots of Soviet Union. Difficult days came. All members of our family were serving on the home front. What does it mean serving for the home front? It means cultivating vegetables, sewing clothes and doing it not for our own consumption but to give the soldiers. This passed 1 year, then 2 years, then 3 years. Then came 9 of May of 1945. All citizens of Soviet Union were celebrating this day as a Victory day. Soldiers were restored from the Front. Not one of my brothers nor my father came back. They were killed; they were killed as patriots of their country. After 2 years I went to Frunze [Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan] city which was the capital of Kyrgyz SSR. I passed to the university and it was the beginning of my happy life.