The soft strumming of a tanbur resonates through the mountainous landscapes of Tajikistan. Anisa Sabiri, a former tour guide who found her voice as a poet and indie movie director, captures this narrative in her work. Her films and photographs, such as “The Crying of Tanbur” and “Rhythms of Lost Time,” challenge the Western-centric view of progress that prioritizes speed and economic growth. Through her lens, Sabiri invites viewers to consider a broader understanding of progress, one that values social cohesion and quality of life, deeply rooted in the communal focus and slower rhythms of life in her homeland.
The historical context of Tajikistan underscores the need to redefine success and progress. Following its independence from the Soviet Union in 1991, Tajikistan endured a devastating civil war that left its economy in tatters and its social fabric frayed. Despite these challenges, the country has maintained cultural continuity and a strong sense of identity. This endurance shows a different kind of success, one that is not measured solely by economic indicators but by the ability to preserve and adapt cultural traditions in the face of adversity. Sabiri’s personal connection to the Zarafshan valley, where her ancestors were relocated by the Bolsheviks in the 1920s, and her mistrust of a stable future after growing up in a post-civil war country, reflect a nuanced understanding of progress. Her work does not romanticize the past but rather acknowledges the complex history that has shaped the present. The significance of the tanbur in Tajik culture, the influence of the Samanid Empire, and the legacy of the Silk Road all contribute to a redefined narrative of success that honors the past while looking towards the future.
Embracing global diversity in well-being is crucial for fostering a more equitable and inclusive society. Western narratives often prioritize individualism and competition, yet in many parts of the world, including Tajikistan, community bonds and hospitality are central to the experience of happiness and fulfillment. Sabiri’s experiences, such as the generosity she encountered at a roadside teahouse, exemplify the rich hospitality that is a hallmark of Tajik culture. These moments of connection and the tradition of welcoming guests with food and tea are not mere anecdotes; they represent a fundamental aspect of well-being that is often overlooked in the pursuit of material success. By recognizing and valuing these expressions of community and care, we challenge the prevailing narrative of what constitutes a good life. Sabiri’s photographs, like the one featuring a Soviet bus stop and Tajik children, serve as visual affirmations of the importance of being present and finding joy in simplicity. They remind us that there are many ways to live a fulfilling life, and that progress can be as much about nurturing relationships and savoring moments as it is about achieving tangible goals.
Recognizing and valuing diverse cultural norms is not a distraction from our challenges; it is a way to enrich our perspectives and find innovative solutions. By learning from the experiences of others, like those in Tajikistan, we can build a more adaptable and resilient society that is capable of integrating multiple definitions of success and well-being. Sabiri’s journey from a tour guide to a poet and filmmaker, and her deep connection to the unhurried pace of rural Tajikistan, serve as reminders that progress is multifaceted and that embracing a broader view of it is not only possible but necessary.
