KYRGYZSTAN: There is, if looters have not destroyed it, a photographic exhibition running in the Kyrgyz Museum of Fine Arts devoted to the wholesome virtues of the Akayev family.
There are pictures of the president relaxing on horseback with his son, and being greeted by clan elders in Kalpak hats and long quilted coats. These are iconic images of a traditional Kyrgyz life still lived by many. We see Madam Akayeva surrounded by adoring children her charity has helped, and as the dignified recipient of an honorary doctorate. Should one tire of art, then a trip to the nearby State Historical Museum should reassure one that there also "the family" is making history.
In the bars and bazaars of Kyrgyzstan, the Akayevs have been a source of marvel and complaint. They, their extended family and close associates, own or have a stake in almost every major business in the republic, including most of the mass media. Stories of their reputed gambling problems, profligacy, malfeasance and sometimes menace abound. On occasion I have comes across Aidar, the president's son and now a newly elected MP, in Bishkek nightspots, his disgruntled arrogance and band of armed, aggressive heavies reinforcing the brutal point of power. Everyone stays well clear.
For many in Kyrgyz survival is a struggle. The public's interactions with the institutions of state give rise to abundant tales of petty harassments and demands for bribes. At its lowest level, bribes are needed just to survive.
A friend who earns a monthly salary of about $30 as a university lecturer charges her students for higher grades. She detests this practice, but her family must eat. In such ways many are forced to become complicit in their humiliation.
The Akayevs stood at the apex of a system of power, preferment and wealth that trickles down to minor officials and the police, especially along clan and regional lines.
This system of running government has a long history in central Asia and it is not a system that will be easily changed, whoever leads the country. It will involve grappling with the contradictions between national, tribal and regional political structures. The states of central Asia were created by decree between 1924 and 1936 out of the Muslim region of the Russian Imperium. They were given an invented past, an ethnic history, even a national language. This was done as part of Stalin's strategy to divide and control a region that until the late 19th century had been filled with stateless nomads, city-states and fluctuating regional powers.
After Stalin's terrors, Khrushchev and Brezhnev developed a new policy of colonial management. The central Asian states were run by a "Russified" local regime, with a Russian deputy who reported to Moscow. They encouraged the renaissance of old tribal structures and gave support to trusted clans under the umbrella of the communist party.
These clans were given great freedom within the states, which they used to engage in the massive corruption that set Moscow reeling in the perestroika years. The arrival of independence did little to change this behaviour, except that now Moscow was off their backs.
In Kyrgyzstan, Akayev, then the new president of a new republic, made some early reforms that received plaudits at home and abroad. But the country was poor and looked like remaining so. Early optimism wavered and national interests gave way to traditional clan and regional ones, and of course the lure of easy riches.
The departure of the president now means that a whole hierarchy of people, from wealthy businessmen and bureaucrats to poor local supporters, have lost their patron. Their response will be will be of immense importance.
Even if they were to show relative goodwill towards the interim government, there will still be a chain of mistrust and tension between the exercise of government orders and local security. Fears remain about what might fill the vacuum, including the ethnic Uzbek-Kyrgyz violence that led to the murder of hundreds in 1990.
The motivation for discontent and protest was less about the abstractions of democracy than about continuing poverty and the inability to the state to deliver a basic standard of living.
Kyrgyzstan is geographically isolated, in a sparsely populated region, with few of its own natural resources. To ease poverty will be a massive task. Maybe the best that can be hoped is that Kyrgyzstan may become a well-managed poor country.
What will become of this revolution? Will the structure of power change, or just the clan or regional interests?
Spring is a wonderful time to be in Kyrgyzstan. Soon families will ride with their horses and sheep up into the high pasture to the fresh shoots and flowers revealed by the thawing snow and ice. They will erect the felt tents that will be their home in the mountains until the autumn chill indicates it is time to return.
A revolution can mean different things. Time will tell.
David Korowicz is from Dublin and has been travelling and living in central Asia for a number of years