Kyrgyzstan

Sometime in the seventh or eighth century -- the exact dates are obscure in the foggy confluence of history and myth -- a warrior named Manas united the Kyrgyz tribes in a rebellion against China.

It's been more than a month since the storming of the presidential palace in Bishkek. But the aftershocks of the uprising are still rattling Kyrgyzstan. Earlier this week, new clashes broke out over control of provincial administration buildings in the south of the country, where supporters of the ousted president have been restive ever since the revolution. Throughout Kyrgyzstan, the post-revolutionary chaos has sparked redistribution of property, power, and jobs -- sometimes by violent means.

Alexandra Poolos, for the Pulitzer Center

When I traveled to Kyrgyzstan a few years ago, I had reservations about meeting with Edil Baisalov. At the time, he had lost his funding support through a major U.S. democracy organization and pointed the finger at organization leaders reluctant to further aggravate declining U.S.-Kyrgyz relations. I wasn't sure what to expect from this young reformer or the remote Central Asian country that happens to house the sole U.S. forward operating airbase into Afghanistan.

On April 7, some 85 people were killed during the storm of the presidential palace in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Many more got wounded. Later that month, the victims recuperated in Bishkek's hospitals, while the interim government tried to consolidate power. In the meantime, the ousted president lingered in his ancestral village in the South of the country.

Late at night on April 7, Erkin Bulekbayev walked out of prison and into one of the toughest jobs in Kyrgyzstan: looking for evidence of financial crimes allegedly committed by the ousted regime.

Of all the intrigues in the political life of Kyrgyzstan, few can rival the mystery of Gennady Pavlyuk, a local journalist with a sharp pen.

A few days ago outside of Bishkek, people flooded onto a field and started parceling out land for themselves according to a master list someone had drawn up. There was a problem: that land already had owners.  But the land-grabbers, most of them destitute laborers, saw an opportunity in the political chaos of Kyrgyzstan. Their logic was simple. In the capital, a group of politicians seized power. So why can’t we seize land?

These days, I sleep while walking, so if I lose my train of thought, perhaps you could nudge me,” Roza Otunbayeva, the interim leader of Kyrgyzstan, said on Saturday. She was drinking strong tea to keep herself from nodding off at her desk.

Philip Shishkin, for the Pulitzer Center
Jalalabad, Kyrgyzstan

The other day, Asylbek Tashtanbekov, a squat former running champion without a job, was proclaimed mayor of Jalalabad. This turn of events surprised many, not least Mr. Tashtanbekov himself.

Green and quiet, Jalalabad is a small town in the South of Kyrgyzstan, a country where political fortunes have risen and crashed with bewildering speed after last week's violent overthrow of the president.