Customer Reviews

So Many Enemies, So Little Time: An American Woman in All the Wrong Places

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This is the rarest of books: at once hugely entertaining and hugely thought-provoking; both an exercise in pure fun and an attempt (successful) at genuine political and sociological enlightenment. It's a breezy travel memoir; it's a serious and timely look at the image and impact of the United States abroad. It reflects very much the issues that 9-11 raised, and yet it's also more timeless than that. Burkett bops through the former Soviet Union, Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, China and, in almost every place, challenges the conventional wisdom about what's going on and offers less predictable glimpses and insights. It's a book full of hope; it's a book laden with hilariously cranky pessimism. It's terrific.

Unfortunately, most Americans "learn" about life in Islamic countries only through the news media and only in the context of the War on Terror. Burkett's most significant achievement with this book is to provide a glimpse into the lives of ordinary people in Central Asia and the Middle East - one that avoids the dual pitfalls of self-indulgence (for the most part) and political demagoguery. After reading this book I found it much easier to imagine life in the Middle East and felt I had gained a better understanding of what people in that part of the world love and hate about Americans. It's not a political book per se, but I would highly recommend it as supplemental reading for anyone interested in the region.

Elinor Burkett and her husband, Dennis, having become restless and wanting what might be a final adventure, decide they want to spend some time abroad. Not as tourists, but she as a teacher and he as her companion. They've been to Europe, South America and other usual destinations. Checking on the Fulbright program, she elects to become a professor, teaching journalism in Kyrgyzstan, a fragment of the former Soviet Union. Unfortunately, it seems, they arrive at their home for the next year a week before 9/11.

The book begins right after the attack when all Americans abroad must have been frightened and wanting to go home. She and Dennis, like several others elect to stay. This beginning makes some readers think that this book will be the story of fear and frustration as they cope with hatred and tension over their being Americans in a part of the world that must hate them and their country.

But there is actually very little of that which is what makes her story amazing. During the months following 9/11, the two of them travel to countries in central Asia and the far east. The only real difficulties in their travels is getting there -- the beueaucracy and bribes, suspicions of minor border guards. Everywhere they hear much the same things from the people: America is arrogant and brought the attacks on itself by interfering in the affairs of other states. They should keep their noses out of other people's business. But why don't they do something about . . . (take your pick)" Never has it been more clear that America has such a love-hate relationship with the rest of the world.

In her teaching in the Kyrgyz university her own biases keep her at odds with the administration. In her mind, she is there to teach the journalism students western-style, in-your-face reporting. Never does she say that's what she was asked to do. But this is the style she knows and it puzzles her that none of her students understand, or want to understand, how to do things her way. Nor does she understand their willingness to accept the status quo, or their desire for a return to Communist control. Independence and individual freedom seem beyond their ability to accept.

What surprises most Americans who read this story is our lack of understanding about most of the smaller countries that the Soviet Union brought inside their boundaries. We tend to think that they must be grateful for the breakup of the Soviet state and attaining their new-found freedom. Not so. Everywhere the Burketts run into people who long for the return of order and running water. They accept governments of nearly cult personalities. And wish America would help them get back some of the things they miss most. But don't tell them what to do.

The Burketts' journey is an amazing one through countries where most of us would fear to go. This is an informative read about peoples we don't even begin to understand. But perhaps we can begin to understand that, although we value our way of freedom so highly, not everyone else can embrace it.

Burkett's journey is an interesting one. But her writing is so incredibly self conscious, full of chunky words with absolutely no flow, that the book becomes a difficult read. A sample sentence: "Rather than plod through the expected, I let myself be swept along past the graceful architecture of old Silk Road cities like Khiva and Bukhara into the center of Kabul during its first unreal days of freedom and to an Iran just emerging from behind its national chador, moving to the syncopation of calculated daring and the adagio of improvised caution."
Ple-e-e-e-e-z!!!
And that's just one sample of incredibly pretentious and strained prose that runs throughout this book. I recommend the author's journalism students heed this as a writing style to avoid - the writing gets in the way of the story, instead of telling it. How on earth did this author qualify for a Fulbright?

With remarkably unlucky timing, Elinor Burkett and her husband, Dennis, arrive in Kyrgyzstan a week before September 11, 2001. They came to Central Asia in a fit of midlife restlessness, and get rather more than they bargained for.

Europe was too easy and South America too familiar. So they decided on Kyrgyzstan, a former Soviet Republic, and Burkett got a job as a journalism teacher at the Kyrgyz university for a year. After September 11, they decided to stay and stick it out. After all, the attacks had been in their home of Manhattan, halfway around the world.

For the next year, in between teaching her journalism classes, Burkett and her husband visited Afghanistan, Mongolia, Iran, Iraq, Pakistan, and most of the other -stans. Remarkably enough, they faced almost no physical threats, and nearly everyone they met was fascinated with their American-ness. In every country they visited, even during the Afghanistan war and the run-up to the Iraq invasion, they were welcomed by the people, if not by the border guards, and made to feel welcome.

What Elinor and Dennis experienced is what America has experienced internationally -- people everywhere disagreed with American foreign policy, but they welcomed actual Americans. Nearly everyone they encountered, in every country, resented American "meddling" and arrogance, thought that America had brought the New York attacks on themselves, and yet were perfectly willing to share their homes with two American travelers.

As a journalist, Burkett knows how to tell a story. So Many Enemies, So Little Time starts off on September 11, 2001, then fills in the gaps a little later. She is very opinionated, and never hesitates to tell her guests and students what she thinks or if their arguments are weak. In spite of this candor, she doesn't seem to fit a blatantly left or right political stereotype. By the time I finished the book, I still couldn't predict who she will vote for in November, 2004. This works in her favor, because if there had been an obvious bias to the right, I wouldn't have been inclined to continue reading, and I'm sure those with a right-wing tendency would feel similarly if the book had been obviously left-leaning.

It's a real eye-opener to find out what the average Uzbek or Iranian thinks about America, especially during the events following September 11. By the end of the year of travel, Burkett has reached her limit of hearing America being criticized for interfering too much and for not helping enough. She lashes out, at least on paper, at those who hold America to a higher standard than other countries and who conveniently forget the sins of former Western powers like Germany, Britain, and even Belgium. But her exasperation clouds her reason -- she tells her journalism class that although America had allowed slavery once, we realized it was wrong and stopped it. She doesn't mention that the actual people holding slaves had to be forced to give up slavery after a bloody war. I wonder why she doesn't cut the old European empires the same slack she does for America?

So Many Enemies, So Little Time is a real slap-in-the-face of a book. You will have a strong opinion about it, one way or another.

If you really want to know how the rest of the world thinks, "So Many Enemies, So Little Time," is a great place to start. With subtle humor and wonderful vignettes, Burkett gives us a clear picture of the peoples, cultures and issues of Central Asia. Using her students and colleagues at a university in Kyrgystan to illustrate most of her stories, she describes how tradition, religion and Communism have stymied their ability to grasp Western concepts like democracy, capitalism and "freedom of the press". Alternatively waiting for the U.S. to rescue them from "Tradition" that has them slipping backward into subsistence farming and nomadic life, and the Russians to bring back the "good old days" of Soviet rule and subsidized factories, the people seem sadly incapable of rescuing themselves. For the first time I understand why some countries simply cannot seize the brass ring. Most of us will never reach Kyrgystan, Afghanistan, Iran or Iraq, but through Burkett's eyes we are able to imagine the issues and realities they face, why concepts such as independent thinking and challenging authority are so foreign, and how the love-hate (or really envy-hate) relationship many countries have with the U.S. has evolved. This is the type of book I wish all Americans would read, just to give us all a clue as to how other countries perceive themselve and the U.S.

I enjoyed Burkett's tales of her 1 year teaching experience in Kyrgyzstan and her sidetrips through Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan, China, Mongolia, Vietnam, Cambodia, Myanmar, Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, & Russia (hope I didn't leave any place out). Her bluntly honest writing style is refreshing in this age of political correctness. Her experiences in each country were different, but probably the main theme of the book can be summed up in one of her paragraphs:

"Even the most virulent revilers of the Stars and Stripes were tangled in contradictions, spouting half-truths based less on U.S. foreign policy than on local political machinations. They were simultaneously applying for visas to a country they claimed to despise, and demanding that American cease its adventurism while insisting, with equal intensity, that American solve the world's problems."

I do have to contradict one of Ms. Burkett's statements that Americans don't see Russian movies. I saw my first Russian movie while I was a student at U.T. Austin. It was "Siberiade". Now, 20 years later I enjoy Russian movies on VHS & DVD owned by my public library system, which, by the way, have pretty decent check-out histories.

I've read all the previous reader reviews of this book, and I'm struck by the wide variety of opinions regarding Burkett's political point of view. One reviewer calls her "right of center", another says she's radically leftist. How could this be? Did we all read the same book? Actually, I was glad to see that others seem confused about her political stance because that's how I felt after finishing the book. Now, politics aside, I need to say that this book is outstanding and a must-read for anyone (Americans in particular) who considers him or herself politically and culturally aware and active. The street-level accounts of everyday life described by Burkett are exactly what we are NOT getting from the corporate news outlets, and even the independent media's offerings are often low on detail and nuance, none of which is lacking in Burkett's gripping narrative. I cruised through the book happily and eagerly.. and then I ran into her two-page diatribe, very near the end, in which she abruptly lashes out at Western Europeans who criticize the U.S. for its foreign policy while seemingly ignoring the low points of their own historical legacies. It was like Ann Coulter stepped in and wrote for two pages while Burkett ran out to grab a Starbucks or something. I was so taken aback that I had to go back and re-read those two pages after I'd finished the book. Yep - there it still was. I just couldn't figure out how that rant got in there, when the rest of the book seemed to characterize the author as - well, as the kind of person who just wouldn't indulge in that sort of thing. Anyway, then I read the blurbs on the back cover from other authors and - lo and behold! - a blurb supplied by Ann Coulter! I literally got a sick feeling and wondered if I was so obtuse that I may not have noticed that this author was some kind of ultra-conservative. I mean, why else would Ann Coulter supply a recommendation? After further thought and reading the reactions of others, though, I'm confident that Burkett was just letting off steam and that the moderate-to-liberal viewpoint that I thought I detected is indeed the prevalent one. Burkett does tend to sound a bit arrogant at times when commenting on the Central Asians' difficulty with letting go of old ways, but a perceptive reader can easily dismiss this and focus on the nitty gritty of her observations and experiences. Here's hoping Burkett and her husband DON'T go on a cruise for their next trip - how about more travels through those corners of the Eastern world that remain "mysterious" to much of the Western world?

I tend to agree with "A lot of Intellect, Little Heart." I know Burkett went to Kyrgyzstan with the idea of teaching, but all good teachers learn from their students, and Burkett was so bent on criticizing that she didn't enjoy the differences in culture she professed to be seeking out. Having spent a year in Central Asia, I know the place can be infruriatingly bureaucratic, gloomy, and, well, sure, not as wonderfully enlightened and democratic as the US. So what!!! It's also fascinating, culturally diverse, dynamic, and unbelievably hospitable. She should have recognized from the onset that she wasn't going to "change" anything, per se, in fact, it was arrogant for her to have thought she might. Instead, she might have done her best to impart some new ideas and enjoyed her surroundings a bit more. 70 years of communism may have taken a toll in some negative ways, but they constitute a generation in the history of her hosts' lives (traditions and all) and should not be so summarily dismissed as a waste.

She was particularly snotty about the food, which I found disrespectful. Yeah, a lot of people around the world don't have access to fresh fruits and veggies year round. So, she can't handle a diet of carbs for a few weeks until she jets off to the MIddle East? And the sheep, procuring that sheep might have cost that family a month's salary or more. Would it have killed them to sample just a bit, maybe not from the head but from the body? Why go to such places and get involved with locals if you aren't prepared to be a bit adventurous?

Just finished Elinor Burkett's So Many Enemies, So Little Time.
I liked it a lot. It's really a Marco Polo travel diary for today. Burkett provides needed background to world events, in a lively personal style. Fun to read, and you can think about it afterwards, too. The book recounts Burkett's adventures in Kyrgystan, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Afghanistan, Iraq, Russia, Burma (officially Myanmar), China, Vietnam, and Cambodia during the 2001-2002 events, when she was a Fulbright Scholar. I agree with her view that the Fulbright program is one US government initiative that really works as it was intended. She explains how her view of the world changed after her experience teaching abroad in the wake of 9/11--just the kind of growth experience Senator Fulbright wanted. Burkett has a real gift for noticing the interesting detail. Her description of the little things at her university in Bishkek--such as wandering around the hall trying to find a classroom after being kicked out for some sort of seminar--tracked pretty exactly to my experience at UWED in Tashkent (which I was pleased to see she called the Harvard of Central Asia). Burkett's observations are generally acute, the most telling ones based on her personal confrontations with age-old traditions.

Most of all, I enjoyed Burkett's Kyrgyz anecdotes, which I think reflect a certain mentality--and reality--in the region. Here's a sample:

While walking in the countryside, two Uzbeks and two Kyrgyz fell in a hole. "I'll give you a hand up," the younger Uzbek said to the older. "Then, when you're on solid ground, you can pull me up." The older man agreed, the Uzbeks freed themselves and then went on their way.
The two Kyrgyz men looked at each other grimly, and one began climbing out of the hole on his own. "Hey, you can't do that," yelled the other man, pulling on his companion's legs. "If you get out, I'll be alone and stranded."