Kyrgyzstan Economy

Bleak and grandiose Soviet-era government buildings still dominate the icy center of this capital city, a mute, powerful warning to all who would try to break the grip of these temples of bureaucracy on the small Central Asian state of Kyrgyzstan. But it is precisely here that the International Monetary Fund, with the blessing of the United States, has tried to set up a free-market showcase for the 50 million people in the five newly independent states that once constituted Soviet Central Asia.

The old man roams what used to be the floor of the Aral Sea, coaxing a ram, a goat and a cow in search of food in what is now relentless desert. Not far away is the rusting hull of the fishing boat that three decades ago he sailed high above, on the surface of bountiful waters. The marooned wreck stands askew amid a ghostly fleet anchored in salty dunes. Stopping his tiny herd in a patch of desert grass, he encounters a stranger who inquires about the sea.

Alexander Chaichenko was up at 4 a.m., long before the sun revealed the flat, boundless steppe. He spent the morning rebuilding a tractor from old parts. Then he gathered seeds for the new planting season. Late into evening he was pouring a concrete floor for a barn. Six decades after Stalin forced his grandparents onto a Soviet collective, Chaichenko is working harder than ever--for himself. He produces nearly twice as much wheat per acre as the state farm he abandoned three years ago.

Alexander Chaichenko was up at 4 a.m., long before the sun revealed the flat, boundless steppe. He spent the morning rebuilding a tractor from old parts. Then he gathered seeds for the new planting season. Late into evening he was pouring a concrete floor for a barn. Six decades after Stalin forced his grandparents onto a Soviet collective, Chaichenko is working harder than ever--for himself. He produces nearly twice as much wheat per acre as the state farm he abandoned three years ago.

The old man roams what used to be the floor of the Aral Sea, coaxing a ram, a goat and a cow in search of food in what is now relentless desert. Not far away is the rusting hull of the fishing boat that three decades ago he sailed high above, on the surface of bountiful waters. The marooned wreck stands askew amid a ghostly fleet anchored in salty dunes. Stopping his tiny herd in a patch of desert grass, he encounters a stranger who inquires about the sea.

Ousted President Askar A. Akayev, who fled this Central Asian country after protesters took over the main government building Thursday in a popular revolution, reemerged Tuesday in Moscow and gave an apparent boost to the new authorities' bid to consolidate the dramatic political changes. Akayev told Russia's state-run Channel One television that he would be prepared to formally resign "provided I am given appropriate guarantees and if this fully complies with Kyrgyz law."

Bleak and grandiose Soviet-era government buildings still dominate the icy center of this capital city, a mute, powerful warning to all who would try to break the grip of these temples of bureaucracy on the small Central Asian state of Kyrgyzstan. But it is precisely here that the International Monetary Fund, with the blessing of the United States, has tried to set up a free-market showcase for the 50 million people in the five newly independent states that once constituted Soviet Central Asia.