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Aleksandr Golovanev, who is Russian, was born in 1916 and grew up in Bishkek, Kyrgyzstan. Orphaned at an early age, he was wounded fighting in World War II and taken prisoner. “They divided us up in order to kill us. The Germans shot people in the head with their rifles,” he recalled. After making his way back to Bishkek, he worked as an architect designing government buildings. Bahtiyar Kurambaev interviewed him in his apartment in Bishkek on Feb. 20, 2009.

I was born in Almaty but my parents lived here [in Bishkek]. My parents went [to Almaty] so that my mother could give birth to me there. Then, after a month, we returned to Bishkek. This was in 1916. My memories are a little hazy but let me start with Bishkek. Back then it was called Pishpek.

I think I’m one of the last [living] people to have known old Pishpek, which was renamed Frunze in 1926 in honor of the Soviet military commander Mikhail Frunze [and was renamed Bishkek after the fall of the Soviet Union]. I spent my childhood in this city.

In those days, the city had little in common with the present Bishkek: there were poor wattle-and-daub houses everywhere and narrow curved streets. People used to take water directly from irrigation ditches, called aryks. After sunset, everything was plunged into darkness. Only Dubovy Park, founded in 1898, was surrounded by several kerosene lamps and, from somewhere inside it, you could hear the sound of the generator that produced energy for the city’s only Edison cinema.

I regret that the present generation will never have the opportunity to see this beautiful panorama around the city: everywhere you could see blooming snowdrops, irises, and different colored tulips. On the streets there were giant poplars, elms, apple and cherry trees, birches, white acacia trees, big oaks, and English elms, protecting residents from the scorching sunlight. They shaded almost all of the buildings. It was like a huge, beautiful garden, where you could hear nightingales’ warbling and the calls of pheasants.

In the center of the city, there were only a few buildings made of wood and bricks and two
churches: St. Nicholas and Serafimov. The names of streets revealed a lot about the lifestyles of their residents. At Klyuchevaya Street [now Manas St.] there used to be a large number of springs flowing from under the ground. At Kupecheskaya Street [now Chui Ave.] there used to be lots of shops. Doctors used to live on Lazaretnaya [Moscow] and Bolnichnaya [Logvinenko] streets. Zapadnaya [Turusbekova], Yuzhnaya [Bokonbaeva], Tokmak [Frunze], and Atbashy [Molodaya Gvardiya] streets were full of cargo-hauling carriages and teams of carriers.

Now, everyone knows that two rivers flow through Bishkek: the Alamedin and the Ala-Archa. However, in those days there were four. Today, there is no Bazarnaya and no Klyuchevaya – they disappeared forever.

There were pedagogical, agricultural, medical, and vocational schools. There were only two drug stores. Where the modern nine-story building with the Ocean shop on the ground floor now stands [near the intersection of Chui Ave. and Manas St.], there used to be a shop owned by a Dungan, and instead of Molodaya Gvardiya Boulevard, there was a pasture for grazing cattle. The city’s Botanical Garden is located on the place where the people who died in the famine of 1932-33 [1] were buried.

In those years, we didn’t have any railroads. The city had very few stores. The population was about 25,000. In 1925, a railway was constructed by Lenin’s decree. The Pishpek railway station was located right in the steppe. A Czech visitor came to Pishpek. His name was Intrigov and he came to help build the railway. As soon as the railway appeared here, the city gradually began developing.

The parks started to appear on Chui Street. The Kajovniy Number Two factory was built. At that time, the city was only between [the current] Togtogul and Djerjinsky streets. International workers came to construct the city, including the factories. Until the construction of the various factories, people were busy raising cattle. After 1925, working people were attracted to the city. The city developed along with its industries. Accordingly, people changed. New people and new industries started appearing.

At the beginning of 1930 or, I think, 1929, construction began on the capital buildings. By 1930, the Medical Academy began to appear on Logvinenko Street. Then construction of a theater began. It was the ballet and opera theater. When the war started, construction of the theater was stopped. After the war, construction was started again. Then a construction boom began.

By the 1950s, Ala-Too Square [the city’s main square] had been built. Basically, the city was built during the 1950s, including the administrative buildings, hospitals and the resorts out at Lake Issyk-Kul [about three hours east of Bishkek]. Everything was [constructed] between 1950-1980. It was a grandiose construction period. However, construction stopped when the Soviet Union collapsed in the 1990s because there were no construction materials and no financing was available for construction. Now, not much construction is going on. Most of the buildings you see now were built during the Soviet Union.

When I was eight, I lost my parents. I was left with only an older sister. I was taken to an orphanage named after Krupskiy. Everyone worked there and everyone studied at a school named after Tashmanov. Everyone was equal. Kids got involved in agricultural activities. Basically, they were feeding themselves.

When I was at the orphanage, it was difficult and we all worked. I started to do dangerous roofing work. Like many poor people, I worked hard for the Dungans in the rice fields for a piece of bread and in the sugar beet fields around Kant for stew made from beet greens.

Once, I remember, two [people] came to us to pick some of us for work. Guess what? They wanted kids without parents. It was in case something undesirable happened – such as if the child died due to heavy work or an accident – then there would be no one to hold those people responsible for the child’s death.

“Do you have a dad?” they asked. “No.” “Do you have a mom?” “Yes.” “Not you.” “Do you have a mom?” “No.” “And do you have a dad?” “No.” “Then come with us.” It was like this. They did not pick children with one or both parents. I realized then that they chose kids without parents because the work was dangerous.

After some time, my older sister took me away from there. After I left the orphanage, I went to study. I started school when I was about eight. When I studied, there were only three schools in Pishpek [Bishkek]. They were: Tashmanov, Maslanov, and one more school. I can't remember the name of the third school. Schools were not numbered then [as they are now] but had particular names.

The director of the school was Tashmanov and the school was named after him. We only had four teachers at the school. We studied math, Russian, military training, and I think we also had history. The other subjects we studied were physics, chemistry and a foreign language – the foreign language was German.

The teachers were great. The students were also good and we got along well. Tashmanov school was located in the Leninskiy rayon. Maslanov was located where the Bishkek city hall is now. The current Seytek Center was a school at that time, too. It was a one-story school. Another small school was located at Kalinin. What I remember is that there was no city beyond Togolok Moldo Street - Panfilov Street. Beyond that, there was no city, just nothing. There was a sort of airport, which is now a hospital.

I have three brothers. Two of my younger brothers served in the military. I got a postponement until 1945 because I did not meet the minimom weight requirement. But I felt uncomfortable in front of my brothers. Why do I have to be here while they are serving, I asked myself one day.

Once, in 1940, I learned that in the evening, a group of young people were leaving to serve in the army. After work, I immediately went there [to the military office]. The military office was where the White House is now. It used to be a one-story building. I went there.

I talked to a lieutenant. He asked what was going on, as if demanding to know what I was doing there. I said that I wanted to join the military. Guess what? That day one young man [who was supposed to leave for the army] was missing. I guess he was the only one to escape, out of 40 young people. They [the military office officials] were glad I was there. I went through a medical examination. I was okay for military service. They told me that I should come with my things the next morning. I went home and I told my sister that I was leaving for the army. She asked me how it was possible. She reminded me that I had a postponement.

I went to Saratov [Russia] with a friend for tank training school. I was assigned to a tank unit. I learned about tanks. I knew the BT-7 well and I even repaired them. My service went fine. Conditions were good. Discipline was excellent. We did not have any birthdays in the military unit. We treated each other equally – even other guys from other military units. We never had scandals. On June 15, 1941, the war started.

We heard that in the Baltics, the war was raging. Then we were sent to the Baltics and everybody was saying that there were Germans. We came to a place where the Germans were bombing. We had a car and the driver was killed by the German bombs. When they bombed everything in the city with airplanes, we thought that everybody was going to die.

One day, we were getting closer to the Baltics and on the way there was a small German military unit. We saw them and decided among ourselves to attack them with grenades. We worked out tactics for how to attack them and where to throw the grenades and all that stuff. We attacked and destroyed them. We took their food and all their weapons.

Later, we arrived in Belarus. Basically, we were moving at night. June, July, August, September and October. It was freezing. We moved further, probably to Prague or something. On the way, there were houses with dogs. We approached one of the houses. We didn't know who lived there. We asked if we could rest and have something to eat. I cooked some potatoes.

We only moved at night and only after careful scouting. One day, Germans saw us or found out about us and attacked us. I was wounded. I still have the scar. I fell down and lost consciousness. I lost some of my vision: my left eye does not function properly. The guys from my unit carried me, despite my wounds. I asked them to leave me, but they did not.

The house where we had stayed and eaten earlier – our guys left me at that house and said that if anyone from the house told anyone about the wounded Russian soldier, then he or she would be killed and the house will be destroyed and all the family members, too. “We will come back for him,” one of our guys told the owner of the house.

The owner of the house gave me some food. I slept most of the time. I was in pain all the time. One day a German officer, a doctor, came to the house to give a woman an injection. The woman then started screaming, saying that there was a Russian in her house. She was shouting that the Russian officer should be shot. But the German doctor was wonderful – just a good human being. He shouted at her in German and she gave me some bread.

Gradually, I became better and better. One day, the woman took me somewhere. I started worrying but we came to a place where there were about 15 Soviet soldiers. Among them, there were Russians, Kyrgyz, Ukrainians and others. They fed us some soup. We were taken to a village. I do not remember the name. There was a temporary [German] camp. I was placed in that camp. It was cold and it was in October. We had nothing to warm ourselves with. No blankets. It was like keeping a dog. They treated us like that. No humanity. Nothing. They [the Germans] placed us on a train and sent us to other military units. I said once to all the guys, “Let’s run away.” We tried but it was unsuccessful.

One day, they brought us into a barracks. There were guards in front of us, behind us, on the left and on the right. They were all around us so that we would not be able to run away. I was walking behind a German. It was cold. I couldn't carry on walking because one of my shoelaces came untied. I fell behind. The German man noticed and came to me. And he spoke Russian. “What happened?” he asked.

Gradually, we started talking. He said that his name was Witsurin. He said that he listened to the radio about the Soviet Union. He said he often listened to Soviet radio and he added that there were some good radio speakers from the Soviet Union. I always like listening, he said. He said that he listened at night or even 1 a.m. He might have thought that I was a spy or something. He was wondering who I was.

About two or three days after we met each other I was called. We had numbers so we could be called. I was placed into another unit. The group had about 30 people. It was a death row of people. I was in it. Dogs were everywhere. They divided us up in order to kill us. Germans shot people in the head with their rifles. Most of us died.

Then, one day at about 2 p.m. they gathered us all together again – those who were still alive. I looked at them. One of them was Witsurin. He saw me. He took my hands. He told me that everything was all right. Then the Germans released all the dogs from their ropes. The dogs bit people. And then he not only saved me but also he took me to work in the kitchen. I became a cook. I cleaned the potatoes.

One night, Witsurin brought an old bicycle and took me to nearby areas just to show me so that if I ran away, I would know how to get away from the camp. He showed me the homes he himself frequently visited. He gave me hope. It was January of 1944.

Polish hostages appeared in our camp. The Germans brought them because the Germans had bombed Poland. All of them were against the Germans. But, before they brought them [the Poles], they took all the Russians and sent them somewhere else. I was the only Russian left in the camp.

Then one day he [Witsurin] said that we should go. I completely trusted him by that time. By that time, if the Germans had found out about his actions, he would have been shot. Witsurin took me to Hanover. I remember the house, the workshop. I could even draw the place now if I could still see well. I was placed in the workshop with two Belgian hostages. Next to me, there was a high wall, behind which were Germans. There was a camp next to us. There were two barracks full of [Russian] military hostages there. They worked at a weapons factory.

I worked and worked in the workshop. Once, I convinced the owner of the workshop to allow me to sleep in the camp with the Russian hostages. He talked to the security guards so that I would be able to do it. There was a minibus close to the wall. I told the Russians that we should move it closer to the wall. They asked me why. I said that, if there was bombing, people would be able to escape over the wall. They would not hurt themselves because the minibus would help them jump over.

That’s exactly what we did. One day some planes flew over us. They were American airplanes. They dropped bombs. We were wondering why the American airplanes didn't bomb the weapons factory. We thought they were fools. There was a smokestack between the barracks and the weapons factory. I suggested to the others to signal to the Americans that there was a weapons factory. I asked them who knew the best way to signal. We took headlight from the minibus and connected it to a car engine. Then we pointed it at the smokestack. The headlight flashes were signals and the Americans saw them and bombed the factory. The fourth plane saw it. The Americans bombed and destroyed the factory. They did not hit us, since we were a little way away, but a part of our barracks was damaged.

The two Belgian workers suggested that I go to Belgium, because they would guarantee me a house there and a life. I told the Belgian guys that I wanted to go closer to the front. They gave me a bicycle. I looked around and at that moment, the owner of the workshop came by with his tractor. He took me about three or four kilometers out of the city and then wished me good luck.

[After the war, Golovanev returned to Bishkek and became an architect].

I was the chief architect for the government for over 20 years. I designed numerous buildings not only in the city of Bishkek city but also all around the country. I designed the Technical School in Kara Balta, the Finance and Economics College in Bishkek, the National Bank, the building that currently houses the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the Ministry of Culture.

I designed the building for the Ministry of Finance, the main square in the city of Naryn, the Manas Movie Theater, and the technical school in the city of Tokmok. I designed Kyrgyz National University with its kitchen for 500 students and dormitory for 800 students. I have many pictures and designs. I even designed this apartment building that I'm living in.