(NB: This is the 2nd entrance I have; the first one was written and intended to be put up January 10th, but upon arrival at the internet cafe I realized I had not uploaded the entry onto my flash drive. Frustrating! But that's the way things are.)
18/1/09
This past week I was in Bishkek for the 2nd-to-last time all the volunteers in my group will officially get together. It was... interesting. There are certainly some characters in my group. I spent most of the time not dedicated to sessions (which was 8-6 every day for the week) hanging out with friends etc. Comparing my personality to that of the group as a whole, I can safely say I'm more inclined to spend time with a select few and forget the rest. They aren't bad people, it's just my style doesn't jive with the will of the group.
The week started off oddly enough. I had made plans to travel in with my friend in Talas, though later on I got the call that my training buddies would be going back to visit the ol' families. I wanted to do it too, but decided not to turn back on the plans (and, on the 10th, found out it was a good idea -- apparantly I'm on some sort of probation; in Sept. or Oct. I couldn't call PC when I got back to site after being out-of-site on weekend travel because the electricity was out and the cell antenna was down, so I got a warning for that -- when I last went into Talas, I called the person I was supposed to call when getting back to site at 1 pm instead of the 12 pm deadline, thus they put me on probation). Anyhow, I arrived in Bishkek and met up with my good friend in Talas, who had been in America the week prior due to his sister's wedding. He brought me back some Reese's Pieces, some delicious organic peanut butter, and some Swedish Fish. What a pal!
The first couple days of conference were with counterparts. These were odd days. There was plenty of information that I wish was covered that wasn't, and I think the information that was covered was good/necessary, but I'm not so certain of how far it will play out in the realm of practicality. I hope hope hope it works out, but I've gotten the same old song and dance a few times already.
After the counterparts left, it was more issue-related and technical talks. Issues with sites, problems with heaters and electricity, even a session from two Russian dudes on how to, apparantly, kick the crap out of someone (under the guise of self defense). The last two days had language sessions. I never thought I would say this, but here it is. I miss language sessions, and I miss them so much. It felt so great going back and taking the time to work on my language in this setting. At site I feel like an idiot 90% of the time because people tend to talk over me instead of to me, and I've felt like my language has suffered consequently. During these language sessions, however, I realized I've come a long way and am so much better than what I perceived myself as previously -- I can not only understand most/all of what's being said, I can utilize grammar, tenses, words, and dialect that I couldn't even 4 months ago when I felt I was at my peak. It's especially apparant when seeing other volunteers in action -- several of them haven't come as far, I feel, with their language. So I think it's time to lay on the heat back at site... I'm not as bad as I thought I was. And for the first time in a long time I can actually say I'm excited, truly happy, to learn a language, this language, Kyrgyz. Also, it was amazing going back to my Kyrgyz teacher from training. I think the rest of my training class unfairly gave her a hard time -- I loved her, she was and is a spectacular teacher, and I hope where I'm at now gives her some sense of gratification.
The week was very tiring, but it's helped me out so much. The hotel we stayed in has showers -- I took one every day, using up a bar and a half of Irish Spring, and felt clean for the first time in months (big difference between simply being clean, for a while, and feeling clean). I had something I haven't had in a while: motivation. True, actual motivation. I spent some time writing down my goals, which I think will help me out quite a bit back in Talas. Aside from getting my hours changed, getting my counterparts to actually work with me, and getting an English classroom, I have several goals otherwis: I'm interested in acquiring, reading, and possibly translating the Kyrgyz epic Manas, both to improve my language and knowledge of culture; I'd like to learn how to ride a horse - where better than a land claiming to have some of the best riders in the world? - so I obtained a bicycle helmet (required by PC); I want to start exercising, particularly jogging/running; I'm very interested in looking into and helping with sites for future Talas volunteers, particularly since there have been issues that caused volunteers to leave and I feel a volunteer perspective is drastically needed; I obtained some books on working with youth, and hopefully I can learn and get ideas for my future prospect of a youth group; I also have support and interest from some other volunteers on starting up baseball in my village (possibly working in conjunction with aformentioned youth group). For the first time in a long time I feel good. Truly good, useful, and motivated. It's a good feeling, and hopefully I can start over a bit and do things better in the new year.
When I got back from Bishkek, a few things had noticably changed. First, we're now eating on the floor (tablecloth spread out with tushuks - coushins - spread around it) instead of at the table. Second, a male neighbor was over by himself eating with us when I got back -- an akward situation, I think, because he should have his own family and all. Third, the mail came, but now someone else is handling it. It's odd how much things have changed in just one week.
However, when I did get back, three packages were waiting for me at this new place. The new place is a store, quite a ways farther away from my house than the previous person who handled my mail, so my host eje picked up a taxi to take us there and back. There was a ton of stuff in these packages, most of it very good. One package was pretty leaky though, and when I got into it I saw a big, messy bag -- one glass jar of tomato sauce was smashed. Everything else was fine, though. Perhaps I'll wait until the summer when tomatoes are back in season before working on making food that requires the sauce, just need a recipe. But wow. My once-empty food-store cabinet is now overflowing. Much thanks! My gratitude for this bounty of deliciousness is boundless. Now my problem is not having enough space in my room, which isn't something that bothers me so much as it aggrivates the fam.
Today, since one of the two tomato sauce jars survived, I went out into town in an attempt to find some cheese (as well as sign some papers the store owner forgot to give me last night when I obtained my packages) to no avail. Very odd, I thought, since cheese isn't necessarily hard to come by in a country where milk-products are a major cultural aspect and way of life. But, thinking it over, people here rarely eat cheese -- it's more of a special occassion food and from my experience Kyrgyz taste buds don't seem to enjoy cheese, at least not to the extent that American 'buds do. They're more into oily and salty foods, we're more into spicy and cheesy. But I digress, pizza bolboit (negation of the verb "to be," used for many things) until I go to a bazaar or bigger town to get my hands on cheese. It won't be mozzarella, but pizza needs it.
I feel grateful and upset that I'm working these next two months. Many volunteers aren't. It's good that I have something to fill this potential void of free time, particularly after two weeks ago when I was going a bit nuts from break. It'll definately be a challenge going in and trying to implement/incorporate a new way, especially since it hasn't worked for the first two quarters of school. Lots of volunteers will be holding clubs and camps during this break, and unfortunately I won't be able to participate (mostly, I might be able to go in for part of one). Lots of volunteers are also using this time to travel; some are going back to America, some are going to India/Thailand/Turkey (one couple even went to Jordan).
That brings up an interesting point. Lots of volunteers take this opportunity of living abroad to visit neighboring countries. At the moment I've been a bit too busy to consider this, but seeing so many people making plans I'd like to think of something for myself. Some people travel with other volunteers, some people meet up with family, some people go on their own (though this seems to be the least common method). I basically have no qualms in regard to travel -- any and everywhere is fair game. I guess that's a problem for me since I can't settle on much (aside from preferring not to go back to America during my service). I'd like to go somewhere in this region of the world, however, because it's one that's not readily available to those in America. The biggest two destinations are India and Thailand, with the third being Turkey, all for their cost and convenience. Lots of volunteers are already planning trips. I just need something of an idea for options. I think I'm going to start saving money. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I'm all ears.
--
As my 8-year-old host brother is trying to be Jackie Chan in the mirror outside my room (or the Kung-Fu Panda, I think that's his favorite), I'm taking the time to reflect a bit. My home situation seems to be getting a bit better. Meals aren't comfortable, but for a completely different reason -- we're sitting on the floor now, and my knees haven't taken too well to such positions since I finished football. But otherwise it's a good move because now I'm spending more time with them; we're watching TV and I'm trying to help them with English. I told my counterpart we need to work together on lesson plans; she's insisting it cannot be because we'll be perceived as lovers. She wants me to teach lessons on my own and have her as an observer; I'm not necessarily opposed to the idea, but it's not what I think will work toward my purpose here.
I just realized, today is the 20th. Good thing I'm writing at night, so it's the 20th back in America too. Happy innauguration day! Congratulations to Obama, and may his term as president be successful! Hurray for President Obama!
--
After a week back at sight, things are good and things need work. Things with my counterparts are wishy-washy; they seem more apt to letting me do stuff in class now, but planning seems iffy. I've been trying to move away from using the book that they swear by all the time, but they seem more prone to using it. Here's why: in Kyrgyzstan, the schools are all monitored by a comission. This comission doesn't seem to do a whole lot, aside from inspecting schools. When schools learn the comission is coming, it's time to polish things up, make everything look tip-top, and bring on the presentation. The day after, things are back to normal. The same is true with class plans -- quarterly plans must be submitted beforehand, and they (apparantly) have to abide by some sort of guideline. In my case it seems they "have" to use this book.
To me this is all just remnants of Soviet nonsense. I feel particularly useless when I can't perform my primary function here because "we have to go by the book." I can't introduce new methods of teaching when stringency is the name of the game and deviance is a capital sin. It's particularly frustrating getting the same old rhetoric after the week in Bishkek, which was supposed to help teach counterparts how to work with volunteers and vice-versa. I have so many materials and ideas that won't get used because the core of our work comes from a book, not teaching English. It's very, very frustrating trying to cope with this idea that books are the end-all-be-all of teaching, and that it's impossible to teach without one. My club students have learned more English in the 3 or 4 sessions we've had than they have in all the classes they've had this year (particularly since they're actually speaking, or at least attempting to speak), and I haven't used one book. I'm loathe to say it, but the book is my enemy here...
That, however, isn't an indication to everything going on at the moment. Yesterday (Thursday) I had one of my most rewarding moments in-country. In Bishkek I bought two copies of Eric Carle's "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," which are in both Kyrgyz and English. My counterpart and I took our copies to the 2nd graders, and wow. The reaction was priceless. I've never seen kids so enthused about anything. This book, first written 40 years ago, enraptured my second graders and opened their eyes like no other. My counterpart told me that there really aren't children's books here in Kyrgyzstan, and she wished that the people who sold TVHC had more books to sell. I told her we have lots of children's books in the States, but they wouldn't be in Kyrgyz or Russian. She said that doesn't matter, we can always translate. (Uh oh...) So if anyone has any spare children's books they're willing to part with, Kyrgyzstan is more than open to accepting them.
Right now I'm talking with my counterparts about getting our own classroom. It's very important to me because if we get books and posters and maps and things of the sort, we'll have a place to put them. Not to mention I won't have to beg for keys to free classrooms in order to hold club, which aggrivates me all the time. I'm still jealous of all the volunteers with their own classroom.
My afternoon schedule was changed again, which is probably the 40th time that's happened since I've gotten here. The most significant aspect of the most recent change is that they decided to start teaching English to 1st graders. This is not what I would consider a prudent move on any account. First, the kids are just starting to learn Kyrgyz and Russian, and they don't even know the all Cyrillic alphabet. Second, they're less attentive than the 2nd graders, and that's saying something. Third, I wasn't trained to be a babysitter, and have been helping out with the 2nd grade primarily out of courteousy. Yesterday, before TVHC reading, my counterpart tells me "go to the 1st graders, I'll be in right behind you." I've heard that line before, so I went and waited in the hallway for her to come along. Ten minutes, twenty minutes, thirty minutes, still no counterpart. So I told myself, whatever, and went back to the teacher's lounge and spent the remaining ten minutes talking with whomever was there. After the bell rings, my counterpart comes up to the lounge and was upset; she had left her things in the 1st grade classroom. She told me "Don't do that again." Rich, quite rich. I'm not teaching the very young 'uns unless I'm there with a counterpart, no compromise on that, and I'm tired of being left to classes on my own (particularly since "by the book!" is rule #1 for them). I'm also not going to watch someone's things in such a manner, that's a poor carrot.
Tomorrow I'm going to attempt to make my pizza, finally. My friend is coming in, and his village actually has cheese. Should be interesting. Tomorrow is also some sort of "Ms. -insert my village's name here-" pagaent (sorry but I'm not supposed to broadcast my exact location). People here seem to eat this sort of thing up -- girls singing, dancing, 10 year olds wearing belly dancing outfits... you name it. I'll probably go just to check it out, but I have to be wary of my actions. My perceptions so far tell me that people think I'll "take a Kyrgyz girl," which in their minds is an 11th grade high school girl. My friend will come along, so that will help me. But still, once people get talking...
Case and point: This morning, at a late breakfast of 8 am (didn't have club until 10), my host eje set out some food and told me to serve myself. Yes! I think. I love eating on my own, don't have to worry about being shameful, can set my own pace, don't have to bother people to serve, don't get the "no no no I'll do it" when trying to do something on my own. It's very gratifying. However, about 2 minutes after I set into my wonderous food freedom, the neighbor's daughter comes over and plops herself into the room to watch a dvd. My freedom shattered, I disgruntledly attempt to finish my breakfast. However, before that's done, I look up and see what this dvd is about: it's a wedding from my village. Uhh... interesting... young 10th grader just happens to come over when I'm by myself and decides to watch this particular dvd. I try getting myself some tea, but nope! can't do that on my own with someone else in the room. So I finish eating quickly and leave. She seemed somewhat miffed at that; while brushing my teeth in the next room over I hear her quickly gathering her things and leave. There had to have been a good half hour left on that dvd. So yeah... Kyrgyz subliminal messages don't really work on me. And I'm bolboiting this nonsense -- I really hope my host family isn't trying to set me up or anything (which, as it turns out, is fairly common).
--
I've hit my first speedbump in regards to the cooking scene (aside from my sandwich fiasco back in training) -- I need to learn how to roll dough. The pizzas came out alright enough, but when it came time to take my flour, yeast, and oil concotion, slap some more flour on it, and try rolling it into a round, things were more than just sticky. It takes some sort of skill to smooth the dough into something resembling a pizza crust, and I don't have it at the moment. After consulting my host sister about it, (they roll out bread and pasta dough all the time here) she seems to think the problem is I went at it too fast. I'll take that into consideration next time; if anyone else has any suggestions, I'm all ears.
Speaking of ears, my left ear is giving me one heck of a hard time at the moment. It seems to happen annually, but this time I know for sure what the aggrivating factor was. On the way back from my week in Bishkek, my ears decidedly didn't take to kindly to the rather high elevations of the mountain passes. I didn't think much of it at the time, but having been back at sight for a couple weeks now I realize it caused the problem I'm currently having. There's a buildup in my left ear, and I'm not sure if it's from pressure or what, but my ear canal is bleeding on and off. It's effectively clogging to a degree that I haven't been able to hear out of the ear for a few days now. Like I said, this is something that's happened periodically in the States to me as well -- just I don't have the conveniences of a shower and running water to attempt to stymie and thoroughly clean it out this time around.
Things are a bit rough at the moment. I'm not entirely sure there's a good explanation for my feeling down, but it's there. I'm sure my ear isn't helping, and work poses an ever-present challenge. Yesterday I was relegated to holding club in the cafeteria because no classrooms were available (re: vice-principal wasn't around, for who knows whatever reason, thus no key), which was one of my lower moments here -- two or three classes of little 'uns were having snack break while I was trying to teach, and one girl in particular kept knocking my things over. When I got back from Bishkek I found my certificate of "Quietest Volunteer of the Year" in the mail from PC -- while not something to throw me down it does kind of put me off, esp. since I've been trying to remain conscious of and improve my vocal and outgoing-ness over the years (I'm aware it's not a slight or meant to be offputting; it just recalls certain aspects of myself to myself). I dunno, it's all a conglomoration of things I think -- feelings of isolation, ineffectiveness, inability to communicate, missing friends and family, the weather, the food, incomprehension on all parts.
--
The other night I heard something rustling around in my food store -- a familiar sound I hadn't heard since 57 Harvest Lane. It was the scamper of a mouse. I remember it well from the nights back home where the creatures who won the war (re: they're capable of taking food off the trap without setting it off -- after witnessing these feats, I gave them the benefit and stopped trying to catch 'em) would scurry about in the basement ceiling, causing quite a ruckus. So I grab my flashlight, put on a pair of gloves, and open the door. Sure enough, there's a little brown mouse sitting on a stack of PC papers, frozen by the sudden disturbance. My first instinct is to try grabbing the bugger and tossing him outside. This didn't work -- as I was trying to clear enough space in the cabinet, it bolted out and scurried like grease lightning to an impenetrable corner of my room. After mulling things over, I'm retiscent to go after the little guy. True enough, I don't want to take chances with a mouse and whatever it may be carrying. But I've heard of and seen the Kyrgyz remedy to the rodents -- lets just say, spring traps are tame and humane in comparison. That, plus a somewhat soft spot in me, both having had mice as pets way back when and just an overall sympathy for most (but not sea/ocean!) animals, I think I'll just leave it alone. It hasn't gotten into any of my packaged foods -- I think it's subsisting off of loose bits of peanut and the like. If it's smart, it'll stay in my room. In a way it's almost heartening... I can have an almost pet! I woke up this morning to it venturing onto the carpet in my room -- my waking scared it back to the corner, though.
To reiterate the food situation here... I've never eaten so many meals where there's more than one ingredient but things are all the same color. I've had so many meals of whitish-yellowish food, I don't know if I'll be able to stand some of this stuff after two years. There's only so many ways to put noodles, potatos, onions, oil, and fat together. I miss seafood so much...
I've been plowing through books like it's my job. Just finished reading David Mendell's "Obama From Promise to Power" this morning (spent a good 3 or 4 days on it) and am halfway through Mark Twain's "Joan of Arc" this evening. What I really want to start on, and what I haven't been able to at the moment, is Manas. My family told me they have a copy of Tomes 1 and 2 in the house -- they also told me they're in my room. Tome 3 is in my room, the others are not. Theres a book in Russian going over the history of Manas, but it's not the epic itself. Perhaps my school will have a copy of it. If not, it's time to start looking around. A friend in Chuy said she found a version in English, quite expensive at that, so it has to be around somewhere.
--
Today I had an interesting and enlightening experience. After getting the buck passed at the literal last minute from my 'meh' counterpart, with a "You have ideas for class right? Here, handle the next class on your own," me having no preparations for such an ocassion, and enduring a head-splitting ringing while being incapable of hearing out of my left ear (consequently feeling nauseous throughout my 8-6 day), my decent counterpart and I were walking away from the school after a day of work. At the entryway to the school, a drunk guy bumbled in and immediately picked up the scent of American (as is the case 99% of the time) and grabbed me, intending to talk my ear off till kingdom come. My counterpart, who was right beside me, decided to just let this guy have his way and walked off, leaving me to fend off the continuously-transitioning-to-Russian man by myself. After about 10 minutes, with him physically not letting me leave his presence, I convinced him to start heading toward home. Halfway home, he decides he doesn't want to lose this juicy morsel and stops again to chew out my ear for not knowing perfect Kyrgyz. After 30 minutes of this ordeal, with plenty of students and ejes walking by with an "Oh he's in for it now" look on their faces, three sober and friendly men came to the rescue and pulled me away from him, freeing me to go home.
I've been trying to contemplate this situation for the rest of the day. Counterparts are supposed to work with volunteers, be their guide in a sense, not only being a work partner but also a cultural and community aid. This is seemingly not the case in my particular situation -- we don't work together as partners, we don't exchange ideas, and no help is given between us. This recent feeding to the wolves has clarified my state. I'm sick and tired of dealing with this nonsense -- I'm tired of not getting work done because my counterparts can't give me 1 or 2 hours a week to write lessons, I'm tired of being left by myself to classes that they supposedly prepare themselves and skip out on 1/2 of, I'm tired of begging for room to do the only meaningful work I've been doing here so far -- my clubs -- and not getting it half the time, and I'm in general just fed up with this system and the people who are supposed to be helping and working with me. I've been very hesitant to give my feedback, criticism, and let my problems out in the open. The few cases I've done that so far have been met with apathy, a sense that I'm wrong, and always a thought that I have no idea what I'm talking about. Even my host family is like this -- the times I've brought up issues with them they've aired on indifference and basically told me "so what." It's time for me to change things up a bit. I'm going to meet with my school director and have a talk with her. If things don't work out there, I'll call my program manager. If that doesn't work, I'm going to request a site change. Plenty of volunteers have problems, but most volunteers don't put up with the stuff I do. I'm really not the type to start flinging mud, and for that I've been taken advantage of and thunk of as some meager workhorse, beholden to the biddings of all others.
--
One thing I forgot to mention previously. The same day I was being abandoned by my counterpart, another serious event occurred at school. Several kids, about 7 or 8, decided to take it upon themselves to severely beat up one boy. The cause of aggression? Seemingly a pushing match, which is fairly common at most schools here from my experience. But this particular outcome was more drastic than the others -- this boy was left bloody and with (perhaps) a broken leg. It recalls to my mind several incidents at different schools in my area where even more severe outcomes took place, with boys losing their lives either by their own hand or by anothers. It's very serious and one reason I'm becoming more adamant about looking into starting a youth group -- boys in particular are losing too much here for no good reason. It frustrates me, makes me angry, and makes me sad. Tomfoolery is one thing, but it's taken to another level all too often.
I can't state enough how much I love my 7th formers. All of them aren't great or amazing or bright, but they're more willing to learn (albeit a bit more... rowdy) than the other forms. And there are some great students and personalities among the group. Mostly girls, per usual, but there are a handful of hopefuls among the less fair gender. If my school does something ridiculous like change their "extra" language to German next year, I'm going to fight it. Surprisingly, my 1st graders are quiet and well-behaved. Still, they're so young -- I have no idea how effective a third, impractical language will be for them at this stage.
Friday, January 30, 2009
One of two
Today I'm writing on pure battery power. Last night I fell asleep with the light on, so when the power came back on (at around 3 or 4 am) I went to turn it off. When I did so, the directly adjacent electrical outlet decided to explode on me -- pretty gigantic sparks were flying out of it. I had left my cell phone charger plugged in (no cell phone connected though) -- I tried unplugging it, but that just resulted in more sparks. So I made sure nothing was burning, flipped the light switch, then went to bed. Now I can see that the plastic socket protector is all melted, burnt bits of metal and plastic are covering the area, and a piece of metal connector is missing between the wiring and outlet. Fun!
--
New Years Eve. Today I had the local electrician/religious dude/gets-lots-in-a-bottle guy come over and fix my socket. Hmm that doesn't sound right... Anyway, I tried it a bit on my own, and when I got shocked fiddling around with things I figured it was time I stopped and got someone who knows what they're doing. I like the guy, he's friendly enough and everything, but man -- his hands were shaking so much, he couldn't seem to focus his eyes, and he just had the air of drink about him. Needless to say, though, he did a slap-up job of things... if only he didn't have to drown in order to alleviate the pain of post-Soviet depression. But now I have access to electricity again (as in, I can use it when we have it, again), and can write! Woo.
Yesterday I went to the nearby biggish town-type... uh... town? (sorry I'm not into the whole borrough and township fad, you Pennsylvanians!) for some errands. Halfway through I get a call from my counterpart -- I'm told there's a "New Year's preparation committee starting at 2, but this is Kyrgyzstan so you don't need to be here until 3." I'm thinking 'what the heck could this be? I'm free until January 19th' and say I'll try to make it. Now, I have to explain that Kyrgyzstan does not have much, if anything, in the way of public service. Trash collection? Ha, it's called the backyard fire (and people love to burn leaves for some reason...). Clean the streets of cow poop? Hello Mr. Rain. Snow plow? Pff, just follow the path countless other cars have forged. Now, that also means nobody clears sidewalks et al, and people here have no concept of using salt to melt ice (rather, they prefer to douse their summer salads in the stuff, quite ruining the taste of tomatoes). I bust my hump, much to my students' delight, nearly every day. While I was in this town on errands, I decided to buy a pineapple for New Years. Right after I bought the beautiful and delicious fruit of my dreams, I hit a patch of black ice... on the sidewalk. I slipped and fell right on my ass. Everyone around let out quite the "Ohhhh!" and I think 'Thanks... for watching and not helping.' I try to get up, but I'm still on the black ice, so *bam* again, and another, louder "Ohhhhh!" Some kids nearby started acting out my fall. I asked them sarcastically, "Jaktabuh??" (did you like the show??) but I don't think sarcasm exists in Kyrgyzstan. Cleaner country my ass!
So I left the town around 3, opting to hang out a bit with a couple other volunteers before heading back to my village. I got back around 4 with quite possibly the most incompetent driver I've had yet. Then I went to the school, and heard what was going on before I saw it -- a party. Guess the staff was holding the New Year's party. I go in, find my counterpart (only one was here -- the more amicable one), and see that things are already quite underway. I take a seat, feeling a bit underdressed (jeans and a turtleneck, though my scarf and coat cover up most of what I wear - honestly, it's a notch above what the other men were wearing, but still...), and proceed through the party process. Since I'm no longer fresh meat, per se, I had no excuse not to do all the stupid stuff that's done at parties -- play the games, dance, give toasts, sing. I did all of the above. The games I'm used to -- just kind of go along with whatever's going on, usually letting my partner do most of what needs to be done. Toasts are always dicey since most of my speech is geared towards conversation rather than well-wishing, and I definately don't say what everyone else does. Singing I'm getting used to -- my rendition of Jingle Bells is old hat with the kids now, and ABC's was my first hit. Dancing though. Ugh. I can tolerate singing, but dancing... let it be known, for the record (Mr./Ms./Mrs. Judge), that I am white. Very white. And I cannot dance. I'm a very stiff person (hmm... again, that doesn't sound right...), my legs don't move so well, and I just have no rythm when it comes to moving my body. That, and old ejes decided to sieze the opportunity and grab me up, so when I'm not moving my hands and feet 2 centimeters at a time, I'm twirling with grandma. I would have much prefered one or two other teachers 'cause they're young, beautiful, and not creepy, but I don't think that would fly given the culture and forum. Oh, and the music... lets just say, whatever wasn't accordian was something in the line of pop. I'm a terrible, terrible dancer, and I'm letting the US down in that regard...
So, back to today. Happy New Year! It's currently 1:45 in 2009 here, 2:35 pm for you East Coasters in 2008. This is supposed to be the big holiday here -- I enjoy it just because it's quieter and less guest-intensive than the other holidays I've experienced here. A nice, quiet meal with the fam, went to go see the family friend and her family, then we all went out to let off some fireworks at midnight (along with the rest of the neighborhood). I'm just happy I got to eat pineapple. The food was standard fare party food -- lots of fruit, candy, and cookies (most of which wasn't eaten, although more was eaten - particularly by me - this time because it's with the family), some plov, sprite, coca-cola, and champaigne (which they give to the little 'uns as well, though some of my fam didn't drink - me as well - because they're being good Muslims). I also got some gifts. Let me extrapolate a bit about gifts here as well. Females have no clue what to get men here. Men have no clue what to get females here. Add in the fact that I'm an American and don't buy into cheap shiney Chinese products, or take seriously what we would consider a severe joke in the way of fashion in America, and it's a monkey wrench for the Kyrgyz gift giving system (although I do absolutely love the Kyrgyz stuff -- 4 kalpaks and one felt heart-shaped pouch, love em all). So what do I get? I get: bottles of what appears to be cologne that didn't make the cut in France - 212 On Ice, Number One, and my personal favorite President for Men; I also get a pair of socks from China, labeled in English 'Faashion Women' (double a not a typo on my part). I'm starting to miss ties, and blue balls - no wait - blue bowling balls, and gag gifts, and the usual cheap toy, bought from a bargain bin in Target or a super market, that takes more batteries than we have and lasts for 1 hour before dying, and the stocking of stuff for Spike, and the palm-full of sweaty 20 dollar bill, the great stuff that we can really use, the great stuff that wasn't asked for, the 'what the heck was this bought for' gifts, and just all the great times we have with thoughtful presents. Oh well... there's always 2010.
Anyway, to all a good night! And a Happy New Year -- it's hard to think, realize, comprehend... I'm passing the new year, a full year to be spent here, in Kyrgyzstan. Wowsers. Here's to half a year here already!
--
It's been a week off. I've enjoyed the rest, but it's still a big question of what to do, what to do. My fam is probably thinking I'm a bit nuts. So far I've read a few books, started up painting again (not pictures -- little metal people), and watching my movies. I've been going through a Rocky a day -- just got finished with #4. Man, it's pretty interesting watching that particular movie here and now, esp. since I can actually read the Russian (still not sure if they're spouting gibberish most of the time when speaking Russian though -- I'm primarily learning Kyrgyz, remember). My food stash is all but gone, the only thing remaining some Christmas candy morsels. It will be an interesting week, what with no work and all. At the moment I'm perusing my iTunes in an attempt to find something my ears and soul can take in -- so far, lots of good stuff on here. Between Rock n' Country (I know, right?) I've been having a pretty good time with music.
In my copious amount of free time, I've been thinking of things not here that I could utilize. Like some shoe (or, more appropriately for my instance, boot) laces because my boots' laces are coming undone. Crackers -- you'd be surprised at how such a simple thing like a cracker doesn't really exist out here (aside from the rare trip to Bishkek, and they're expensive there!!), and how much one starts to miss the things. Hot running water... oh what I wouldn't give for that. Regular access to internet, mmhmmm. Going to the kitchen for a snack... Retreating to the warmth of inside... Having space to put stuff in, rather than stuffing things under the couch and bed and table in order to avoid a complete pigstie. Having access to anything necessary, all within a 20 minute's drive from home. Hmm. Just ponderances, nothing getting to me (at least not to a point of harm, just a point of conformity).
In two weeks' time I will be in Bishkek again. Unfortunately it won't be good and fun Bishkek -- we, that is the volunteers, will be cooped up in a hotel for the week, rather far away from what services the city has to offer. The week will be full of sessions on how to be better volunteers and all that sort of fun stuff. I'm looking forward to seeing some of my friends again and potentially taking away some useful information (though how much is a question -- I don't think PC has its head on straight with this team-teaching modus operendi); I'm not looking forward to the inevitable terror that will come from 50 someodd mostly post-college-phase people getting together in one place. Hopefully things don't get out of hand, as I believe our choice of venue is privy to banishing PC if things do. And hopefully we have some time to go out into the city, particularly since I'm one of the rare volunteers whose school will be open during winter and I actually have to go back to my village after the week's sessions are over.
--
Wow. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, quite like waking up and walking into the kitchen while sheep meat is being cooked for lunch's soup. What a stinky, smelly meat! Oh my. I almost passed out -- my host eje literally walked out of the room when I went in to brush my teeth. Whew...
--
For the past few days, my family has been ranting about "the ice" -- prior to "the ice" it was "Adeen Doma" or, in English, the movie Home Alone, which is apparently the big holiday movie here. Anyway, yesterday my family asked me if I wanted to go to "the ice;" half out of bemusement, half out of curiosity, I said sure. Today they ranted again and again during breakfast and lunch, and after lunch we went to, "the ice." Apparently "the ice" means sledding, although true to the nomenclature they do it on an icy hill rather than snow. Now, in America kids have their nice blow-up tubes, plastic sleds, tobbogans etc. Here, kids take a cushion, stuff it in a plastic bag (albeit a big, strong plastic bag), and go to town. There's also the plank with nails nailed down into it, fastened somehow to a small metal sled/sleigh frame, but those seem a bit harder to come by. Now, to get to "the ice" we had to cross over a small brook/creek (deemed river by the Kyrgyz); the bridge: a felled, icy, smooth and round tree... not what you would call the most safe or reliable means of traversing water. The hill also ended at said brook, so some e-brake action is necessary if you don't want to catch hypothermia and die. However, it's still all fun and the kids had a great time -- my knees didn't feel up to the task after my 2nd try, though having not sledded in probably over 8 years now it was a good time. I'm not so sure about my family's claim that it's better at night -- granted there are the stars and moon, making it beautiful, but it's a helluva lot colder, you can't see, and there's all sorts of things that could go wrong. Oh well, glad to know they enjoy winter here.
--
So I have here some pictures. They might need some explaining. First off, I've been a bit bored this week, so take that into account, please. The blown-up electrical socket is self explainable, esp. if you read my most recent first blog paragraph. The cologne and socks are part of my mystifying New Year's gifts , I'm as perplexed as you all are. Also explained in he blog.
Now, as you may or may not know, pineapple is my favorite fruit (although I have had mango on the brain... uh, hope that doesn't sound wrong, esp. for you SNL watchers). My mind walked up a wall and did the "woo-woo-woo" dance (Homer fans, anyone?) when I first saw the fruit available in the bazaar. Less so exciting was finding out the price -- by far the most expensive fresh fruit available. But, since it was New Year's, I bought one. And it was delicious! But, I just had to capture the moment. And to commemorate the occassion, I took a picture of my baby... but that just wasn't enough. I had to make a ridiculous excited face to go along with it, to give it my stamp! So, here's to my favorite fruit. Pineapple!
The dancing picture is really, really strange. This was how my school celebrated New Year's. For at least two weeks, the kids prepared dance sessions and singing and this whole procession (meanwhile, they didn't really do much work, woo...). Then on the day before New Year's Eve, they held this gigantic marathon event (gigantic for Kyrgyzstan village) that lasted from, I believe, 11 am to 4 or 5 pm. I didn't know what the heck was going on, but my eje wanted some pictures. So I stopped by the school for a few minutes to see what was going on. All the kids are dressed up as who-knows-what -- princesses, fairies, belly-dancers, zorro, spiderman... it was like Halloween, only without the candy. But, they're not just all running around the school. Oh no. In the gymnasium the main event is going on. So I walk in there, and there's more ejes than I can shake a stick at seated around the place waiting to see their kid or students or whomever. There's a big Christmas Tree on a table in the middle of the gym, with balloons strung up across the ceiling. Each form is called out individually, so 10 A gets its own turn, then 10 B, 10 V, etc. Each form gets something like 2-5 songs to perform to, and it's essentially just the girls doing anything -- the boys just stand in line being zorro or whatever. But, that's not all! Santa Claus and his... uh... granddaughter, I believe it is (although she seemed more a mistress...) walked around the place lording over everything. Santa had this pretty big staff/scepter/beating stick thing, with boas wrapped around it. Why? No clue. But that's not the best. Santa basically walked around the entire time, sort of dancing to the typical Kyrgyz pop that all sounds the same and has the same beat, banging his staff. He then randomnly stops and bellows out (if you've seen Japanese samurai flicks, it was soooo a Japanese shogun guttural 'Ohhhh") then speaks in same said tone. It's like he's king! I couldn't understand it, and I have no idea what any of it had to do with Santa, but damn it was funny. And interesting. Santa, lording over these kids, ruling his domain, semi-dancing with his pimp-cane, and randomnly bellowing out commands and dictates. Ha! No ho ho ho's, though if I recall correctly there was a bought of laughter, possibly a ha ha ha...
--
New Years Eve. Today I had the local electrician/religious dude/gets-lots-in-a-bottle guy come over and fix my socket. Hmm that doesn't sound right... Anyway, I tried it a bit on my own, and when I got shocked fiddling around with things I figured it was time I stopped and got someone who knows what they're doing. I like the guy, he's friendly enough and everything, but man -- his hands were shaking so much, he couldn't seem to focus his eyes, and he just had the air of drink about him. Needless to say, though, he did a slap-up job of things... if only he didn't have to drown in order to alleviate the pain of post-Soviet depression. But now I have access to electricity again (as in, I can use it when we have it, again), and can write! Woo.
Yesterday I went to the nearby biggish town-type... uh... town? (sorry I'm not into the whole borrough and township fad, you Pennsylvanians!) for some errands. Halfway through I get a call from my counterpart -- I'm told there's a "New Year's preparation committee starting at 2, but this is Kyrgyzstan so you don't need to be here until 3." I'm thinking 'what the heck could this be? I'm free until January 19th' and say I'll try to make it. Now, I have to explain that Kyrgyzstan does not have much, if anything, in the way of public service. Trash collection? Ha, it's called the backyard fire (and people love to burn leaves for some reason...). Clean the streets of cow poop? Hello Mr. Rain. Snow plow? Pff, just follow the path countless other cars have forged. Now, that also means nobody clears sidewalks et al, and people here have no concept of using salt to melt ice (rather, they prefer to douse their summer salads in the stuff, quite ruining the taste of tomatoes). I bust my hump, much to my students' delight, nearly every day. While I was in this town on errands, I decided to buy a pineapple for New Years. Right after I bought the beautiful and delicious fruit of my dreams, I hit a patch of black ice... on the sidewalk. I slipped and fell right on my ass. Everyone around let out quite the "Ohhhh!" and I think 'Thanks... for watching and not helping.' I try to get up, but I'm still on the black ice, so *bam* again, and another, louder "Ohhhhh!" Some kids nearby started acting out my fall. I asked them sarcastically, "Jaktabuh??" (did you like the show??) but I don't think sarcasm exists in Kyrgyzstan. Cleaner country my ass!
So I left the town around 3, opting to hang out a bit with a couple other volunteers before heading back to my village. I got back around 4 with quite possibly the most incompetent driver I've had yet. Then I went to the school, and heard what was going on before I saw it -- a party. Guess the staff was holding the New Year's party. I go in, find my counterpart (only one was here -- the more amicable one), and see that things are already quite underway. I take a seat, feeling a bit underdressed (jeans and a turtleneck, though my scarf and coat cover up most of what I wear - honestly, it's a notch above what the other men were wearing, but still...), and proceed through the party process. Since I'm no longer fresh meat, per se, I had no excuse not to do all the stupid stuff that's done at parties -- play the games, dance, give toasts, sing. I did all of the above. The games I'm used to -- just kind of go along with whatever's going on, usually letting my partner do most of what needs to be done. Toasts are always dicey since most of my speech is geared towards conversation rather than well-wishing, and I definately don't say what everyone else does. Singing I'm getting used to -- my rendition of Jingle Bells is old hat with the kids now, and ABC's was my first hit. Dancing though. Ugh. I can tolerate singing, but dancing... let it be known, for the record (Mr./Ms./Mrs. Judge), that I am white. Very white. And I cannot dance. I'm a very stiff person (hmm... again, that doesn't sound right...), my legs don't move so well, and I just have no rythm when it comes to moving my body. That, and old ejes decided to sieze the opportunity and grab me up, so when I'm not moving my hands and feet 2 centimeters at a time, I'm twirling with grandma. I would have much prefered one or two other teachers 'cause they're young, beautiful, and not creepy, but I don't think that would fly given the culture and forum. Oh, and the music... lets just say, whatever wasn't accordian was something in the line of pop. I'm a terrible, terrible dancer, and I'm letting the US down in that regard...
So, back to today. Happy New Year! It's currently 1:45 in 2009 here, 2:35 pm for you East Coasters in 2008. This is supposed to be the big holiday here -- I enjoy it just because it's quieter and less guest-intensive than the other holidays I've experienced here. A nice, quiet meal with the fam, went to go see the family friend and her family, then we all went out to let off some fireworks at midnight (along with the rest of the neighborhood). I'm just happy I got to eat pineapple. The food was standard fare party food -- lots of fruit, candy, and cookies (most of which wasn't eaten, although more was eaten - particularly by me - this time because it's with the family), some plov, sprite, coca-cola, and champaigne (which they give to the little 'uns as well, though some of my fam didn't drink - me as well - because they're being good Muslims). I also got some gifts. Let me extrapolate a bit about gifts here as well. Females have no clue what to get men here. Men have no clue what to get females here. Add in the fact that I'm an American and don't buy into cheap shiney Chinese products, or take seriously what we would consider a severe joke in the way of fashion in America, and it's a monkey wrench for the Kyrgyz gift giving system (although I do absolutely love the Kyrgyz stuff -- 4 kalpaks and one felt heart-shaped pouch, love em all). So what do I get? I get: bottles of what appears to be cologne that didn't make the cut in France - 212 On Ice, Number One, and my personal favorite President for Men; I also get a pair of socks from China, labeled in English 'Faashion Women' (double a not a typo on my part). I'm starting to miss ties, and blue balls - no wait - blue bowling balls, and gag gifts, and the usual cheap toy, bought from a bargain bin in Target or a super market, that takes more batteries than we have and lasts for 1 hour before dying, and the stocking of stuff for Spike, and the palm-full of sweaty 20 dollar bill, the great stuff that we can really use, the great stuff that wasn't asked for, the 'what the heck was this bought for' gifts, and just all the great times we have with thoughtful presents. Oh well... there's always 2010.
Anyway, to all a good night! And a Happy New Year -- it's hard to think, realize, comprehend... I'm passing the new year, a full year to be spent here, in Kyrgyzstan. Wowsers. Here's to half a year here already!
--
It's been a week off. I've enjoyed the rest, but it's still a big question of what to do, what to do. My fam is probably thinking I'm a bit nuts. So far I've read a few books, started up painting again (not pictures -- little metal people), and watching my movies. I've been going through a Rocky a day -- just got finished with #4. Man, it's pretty interesting watching that particular movie here and now, esp. since I can actually read the Russian (still not sure if they're spouting gibberish most of the time when speaking Russian though -- I'm primarily learning Kyrgyz, remember). My food stash is all but gone, the only thing remaining some Christmas candy morsels. It will be an interesting week, what with no work and all. At the moment I'm perusing my iTunes in an attempt to find something my ears and soul can take in -- so far, lots of good stuff on here. Between Rock n' Country (I know, right?) I've been having a pretty good time with music.
In my copious amount of free time, I've been thinking of things not here that I could utilize. Like some shoe (or, more appropriately for my instance, boot) laces because my boots' laces are coming undone. Crackers -- you'd be surprised at how such a simple thing like a cracker doesn't really exist out here (aside from the rare trip to Bishkek, and they're expensive there!!), and how much one starts to miss the things. Hot running water... oh what I wouldn't give for that. Regular access to internet, mmhmmm. Going to the kitchen for a snack... Retreating to the warmth of inside... Having space to put stuff in, rather than stuffing things under the couch and bed and table in order to avoid a complete pigstie. Having access to anything necessary, all within a 20 minute's drive from home. Hmm. Just ponderances, nothing getting to me (at least not to a point of harm, just a point of conformity).
In two weeks' time I will be in Bishkek again. Unfortunately it won't be good and fun Bishkek -- we, that is the volunteers, will be cooped up in a hotel for the week, rather far away from what services the city has to offer. The week will be full of sessions on how to be better volunteers and all that sort of fun stuff. I'm looking forward to seeing some of my friends again and potentially taking away some useful information (though how much is a question -- I don't think PC has its head on straight with this team-teaching modus operendi); I'm not looking forward to the inevitable terror that will come from 50 someodd mostly post-college-phase people getting together in one place. Hopefully things don't get out of hand, as I believe our choice of venue is privy to banishing PC if things do. And hopefully we have some time to go out into the city, particularly since I'm one of the rare volunteers whose school will be open during winter and I actually have to go back to my village after the week's sessions are over.
--
Wow. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, quite like waking up and walking into the kitchen while sheep meat is being cooked for lunch's soup. What a stinky, smelly meat! Oh my. I almost passed out -- my host eje literally walked out of the room when I went in to brush my teeth. Whew...
--
For the past few days, my family has been ranting about "the ice" -- prior to "the ice" it was "Adeen Doma" or, in English, the movie Home Alone, which is apparently the big holiday movie here. Anyway, yesterday my family asked me if I wanted to go to "the ice;" half out of bemusement, half out of curiosity, I said sure. Today they ranted again and again during breakfast and lunch, and after lunch we went to, "the ice." Apparently "the ice" means sledding, although true to the nomenclature they do it on an icy hill rather than snow. Now, in America kids have their nice blow-up tubes, plastic sleds, tobbogans etc. Here, kids take a cushion, stuff it in a plastic bag (albeit a big, strong plastic bag), and go to town. There's also the plank with nails nailed down into it, fastened somehow to a small metal sled/sleigh frame, but those seem a bit harder to come by. Now, to get to "the ice" we had to cross over a small brook/creek (deemed river by the Kyrgyz); the bridge: a felled, icy, smooth and round tree... not what you would call the most safe or reliable means of traversing water. The hill also ended at said brook, so some e-brake action is necessary if you don't want to catch hypothermia and die. However, it's still all fun and the kids had a great time -- my knees didn't feel up to the task after my 2nd try, though having not sledded in probably over 8 years now it was a good time. I'm not so sure about my family's claim that it's better at night -- granted there are the stars and moon, making it beautiful, but it's a helluva lot colder, you can't see, and there's all sorts of things that could go wrong. Oh well, glad to know they enjoy winter here.
--
So I have here some pictures. They might need some explaining. First off, I've been a bit bored this week, so take that into account, please. The blown-up electrical socket is self explainable, esp. if you read my most recent first blog paragraph. The cologne and socks are part of my mystifying New Year's gifts , I'm as perplexed as you all are. Also explained in he blog.
Now, as you may or may not know, pineapple is my favorite fruit (although I have had mango on the brain... uh, hope that doesn't sound wrong, esp. for you SNL watchers). My mind walked up a wall and did the "woo-woo-woo" dance (Homer fans, anyone?) when I first saw the fruit available in the bazaar. Less so exciting was finding out the price -- by far the most expensive fresh fruit available. But, since it was New Year's, I bought one. And it was delicious! But, I just had to capture the moment. And to commemorate the occassion, I took a picture of my baby... but that just wasn't enough. I had to make a ridiculous excited face to go along with it, to give it my stamp! So, here's to my favorite fruit. Pineapple!
The dancing picture is really, really strange. This was how my school celebrated New Year's. For at least two weeks, the kids prepared dance sessions and singing and this whole procession (meanwhile, they didn't really do much work, woo...). Then on the day before New Year's Eve, they held this gigantic marathon event (gigantic for Kyrgyzstan village) that lasted from, I believe, 11 am to 4 or 5 pm. I didn't know what the heck was going on, but my eje wanted some pictures. So I stopped by the school for a few minutes to see what was going on. All the kids are dressed up as who-knows-what -- princesses, fairies, belly-dancers, zorro, spiderman... it was like Halloween, only without the candy. But, they're not just all running around the school. Oh no. In the gymnasium the main event is going on. So I walk in there, and there's more ejes than I can shake a stick at seated around the place waiting to see their kid or students or whomever. There's a big Christmas Tree on a table in the middle of the gym, with balloons strung up across the ceiling. Each form is called out individually, so 10 A gets its own turn, then 10 B, 10 V, etc. Each form gets something like 2-5 songs to perform to, and it's essentially just the girls doing anything -- the boys just stand in line being zorro or whatever. But, that's not all! Santa Claus and his... uh... granddaughter, I believe it is (although she seemed more a mistress...) walked around the place lording over everything. Santa had this pretty big staff/scepter/beating stick thing, with boas wrapped around it. Why? No clue. But that's not the best. Santa basically walked around the entire time, sort of dancing to the typical Kyrgyz pop that all sounds the same and has the same beat, banging his staff. He then randomnly stops and bellows out (if you've seen Japanese samurai flicks, it was soooo a Japanese shogun guttural 'Ohhhh") then speaks in same said tone. It's like he's king! I couldn't understand it, and I have no idea what any of it had to do with Santa, but damn it was funny. And interesting. Santa, lording over these kids, ruling his domain, semi-dancing with his pimp-cane, and randomnly bellowing out commands and dictates. Ha! No ho ho ho's, though if I recall correctly there was a bought of laughter, possibly a ha ha ha...
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