tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22219723437167777612024-02-08T09:37:25.999-08:00My New Life: An Adventure to the Kyrgyz RepublicChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-65433597944632267942010-01-02T02:57:00.000-08:002010-01-02T02:58:31.854-08:00Holidays 2009This has certainly been one of the strangest holidays I've ever experienced. For once I have people prompting and pushing to get the celebrations done -- usually it's the other way around in my experience. Lord knows this year I'm only half-heartedly into Christmas; I want to be back home with my family. Anyway, we start with the Christmas tree. Last year we cut off the top 1/3 of a tree in the yard and used that -- unfortunately, the top 1/3 of a tree doesnt really grow back (at least not in time for next year?). So we faced a conundrum when trying to figure out what to do, as my family understands that the 12 inch plastic trees that everyone uses here don't make the cut for Christmas (though they suffice for New Year's). So plan C: take the trunk from the top of the tree we used last year, cut off all the dead branches, and attach freshly cut branches from the still-living 2/3 of a tree to said trunk. We have, quite honestly, a Frankenstein's Monster of a tree on our hand. It looks pretty decent, even if a bit off -- I never thought I'd miss the infuriating color-coded branch system of my Grandfather's old plastic tree (measuring up and attaching live branches is a lot more difficult). Nevertheless, it worked out. Next came decorating. There's been no change from last year, so we have the same 20-odd small strands of very different-colored garland, one medium-length string of lights, a handful of ornaments (a good deal of which are the paper ones we made last year), and, of course, a return of the paper star to crown it all. I did the majority of the tree decorations, so the tree was pretty much all done by me. We also have a new addition to the room this year -- take colored streamer-type strings, a wad of cotton ('cause it looks like there aren't any cotton balls here), wet the cotton, stick the string to it, then fling it to the ceiling. Basically: a glorified spitball.<br /><br />Our Christmas celebration went ok. There were some extra people staying around the house, so that was awkward to deal with, but all-in-all things were smooth. Santa came again and my family enjoyed their presents, though not all of his presents arrived for Christmas (so some were distributed at New Year’s, though there’s a little bit more on the way too it seems).<br /><br />For my host family and for the volunteer get-together I made a billion cookies. Ok, not a billion, but ~300 or so. The fare? Gingerbread cookies and standard red/green sugar cookies. Of course, due to a lack of cookie cutters, I had to do everything with a knife – it was a lot of work – but I think things turned out decorative enough. My big project for the volunteers was making personalized gingerbread-people for everyone in the oblast, so 17 gingerbread men/women that had something unique to them. Quite a task! But I made it work, and thanks to a big bag of powdered sugar (that’s all gone now) I was able to frost them up nice!<br /><br />Both celebrations were fairly relaxed. On Christmas day I celebrated with my family, opened presents, had some lunch, then came into the city to make more cookies. On the 26th I got together with the other volunteers and had some very good food, and we sang some carols and just hung out. I was awarded volunteer of the month at this event, which was surprising. Afterward I just went back to my village as most of the other volunteers went off to visit other places.<br /><br />Right now I’m sitting on my hands, trying to prepare for the Talas Summer Camp (I’ve been recruited to be the director this year) and getting some needed R&R. New Year’s was a calm celebration, I made a velvet cake and some frosting because I don’t like the Russian store-bought cakes – they taste like cardboard. So all in all not too much is going on! Hopefully I get a good battery recharge during this break.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-24753584214623826492009-12-05T00:15:00.000-08:002009-12-05T00:17:04.161-08:00Kyrgyz AutumnIt's been a while since I last updated the blog.<br /><br />October was a fairly busy. I worked throughout the month, teaching classes at a regular pace with my counterpart; we had started to form a better relationship during this time. It was also a stressful time because I was preparing for a Halloween concourse on the 31st. Most things considered it went well-- we had about 65-70 children show up, a haunted house, games, pumpkin carving, skits (though only 3 of the 7 groups performed...), and everyone wore costumes. It was valuable to me because I learned a bit more about management, and I realize I have a lot of areas to improve upon (especially since I'm planning on putting together the summer camp this year).<br /><br />November was also busy, but in a different way. Right after Halloween, I went down to Osh for a week. My primary concern on this trip was being there for my buddy Daniel, who went down for a "big event." Things ended up going very well for him, so I'm happy for that. I also had a good time -- eating good food, getting a shower most every day, meeting with some good people. It's a very different place than what the rest of volunteers see in country.<br /><br />After Osh I came back to Talas for a week, taught classes, then headed up to Chui Oblast for VAC. First I went to see my training family for a few days. It was really great seeing them again, I miss them a lot -- it always breaks my heart when I have to leave them again, they're really great people. After a few days with them, I headed in to Bishkek. I had intended on utilizing the internet at PC headquarters while there -- I had been preparing for a month and a half all the things I wanted to send/see/do -- but many people were falling ill so the doctor closed down the building (with me being quite disgruntled at this). All things said, though, it was a decent enough trip. The biggest news from VAC is that I got elected president of the body, so now I have even more responsibility -- it will be a challenge due to my internet situation, but I'm planning on trying to use it more, and also move to more cellphone communication (which is the primary mode of communicating here). I had to stay in Bishkek for most of the week due to dental appointments -- thankfully everything went ok, the dentists we go to are good practitioners and, sans flouride treatments, are on par with very qualified doctors in the US in my opinion -- some PCVs even say they're better than the ones that they themselves had back in the States! Anyway, my primary objective was picking up stuff throughout the week for Thanksgiving. I was charged with picking up the turkey, something which was 'finagled' into the country from the States and awarded to us, a 22 pound Butterball. Also I tried looking for things for my personal project, and ended up picking up a few important ingredients. Unfortunately the sweet potatoes that my friend found weren't very good so we went without for the holiday (sweet potatoes are not known here, I can't even find a translation of it in Kyrgyz or Russian). I ate some decent food, got to shower once again, and after my week was spent I headed back to Talas, with precious Thanksgiving charges in hand.<br /><br />When I got back to site, I quickly learned that schools were closing throughout the oblast (another 'quarantine' or 'epidemic'), my school being no exception here. While in Bishkek I was shocked to see that a lot of people were wearing masks, especially because it reminded me of sars. Well, everyone is up-in-arms about the flu, particularly 'swine flu,' and the masks and 'quarantine' are all reactions to it. Now, Kyrgyz people are still very traditional or superstitious, esp. when it has to do with illness. I can understand this reaction, even if it's coming during cold and flu season. It's also a testament to the propagation of Russian news and how skewed it can (and tends) to be. Anyway, as far as I know there's been a very minimal outbreak of swine flu, something in the range of 25 people in the country, but given the trends of customs and the information they've been fed, people here are, quite simply, freaking out. Compile that with the season and regular colds or flus, and we have to present situation. Not to mention the "pig" aspect of it, pigs being an already abhorred animal here and the whole taboo that creates. Nevertheless, November was a month in which I did not work a whole lot. Thankfully I haven't been ill yet (knock on wood) and, despite my host family insisting that I devour raw garlic and lemon to stave off the epidemic, I've been watching what I eat and touch and have been washing my hands quite frequently (which is more than I can say for a lot of people here, despite trying to inform them of what to do...). Let's see how things go once I get back into the mix at school with all those kids and their unwashed hands and uncovered coughs...<br /><br />Thanksgiving was a good time. I was planning for most of the month how/what I wanted to make. As some of you may have gleaned, I've taken up baking while here, and I dare say I've started to get good at it. Originally I wanted to utilize the internet at PC HQ while I was in Bishkek to get some recipes, but was foiled on that front. So I quickly found something on the net while back in Talas and got charged an arm and a leg for it. Anyway, I was given the charge of pies. Pies were my baby this time around, and I took them to heart. While in Bishkek I picked up some caramel, whipped cream, and an extra pie pan -- the plan was set in motion, I was going to make a work of art here. Now, we didn't celebrate on Thanksgiving day itself because Thanksgiving is a Thursday, not a holiday outside the US, and some volunteers had work. So we celebrated the following Saturday. I came into Talas City on Friday and started baking at around 2 pm. At 12 am the power goes off, so I had to stop then -- so I resumed at 8 am the next morning, and finished up at 10:30 am, plenty of time before our 2 pm get-together. What did I make? Well, I had a city volunteer pick up a pumpkin (5 kilograms, much more than I wanted/needed). I also picked up some apples, along with a whole bunch of other stuff (butter, flour, sugar etc) for crusts and fillings. The result? Five pies. Each one has its own name: "Latticed Cinnamon Apple Pie," "Basic Pumpkin Pie," "Cookie Crumble Crust Pumpkin Pie," (this one's name isn't fit to be published so I'll just go with...) "Big Pumpkin Pie," and my coup de grace pie: "Walnut Crusted Cinnamon Caramel Apple Crumble Pie." I was particularly pleased with my new crusts (I had only made the standard crust prior to trying these) and my second pumpkin pie recipe -- the basic pumpkin pie was ok, but the other two were much better. I think everyone enjoyed the pies. Also, there was a lot of pumpkin left over so I made some mashed pumpkin as an ode to my mother's butternut squash -- that turned out pretty good too. Thanksgiving went well (despite us not making hats this year by a veto from some volunteers, and my being upset at this having went out and purchased paper to make said hats), the turkey was delicious (very hard to cook one here with the big ovens not having temperature gauges) and I was once again full.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-79994715243858899992009-10-01T23:02:00.000-07:002009-10-01T23:04:47.530-07:00The Beginning of the EndYear two is officially and fully underway, both as a full-fledged volunteer and my general time here in Kyrgyzstan. I know it's been a while since I last wrote on here -- there's a reason for that. My August was pretty wrenching, as things I thought to be were not (sorry for this ambiguity, I'd rather not lay my heart and soul out here) and I underwent a rather harsh period, probably my all-time emotional low in country. Feelings of isolation and abandonment kept rational thought at bay and a longing which was not to be quelled by the circumstances of the month. Things have since calmed and become better, but I can tell I am a changed person for these happenstances.<br /><br />With August behind me, September started, and along with it the school year and the initial chaotic fury that accompanies it. The main challenges at the beginning of my school year are A) the schedule and B) students not showing up to class. First, the easy explanation -- children are out working in the fields, and since Fall is prime bean-harvesting season (of which Talas is particularly reputable) we get an inordinate amount of absences from classes. I'm told this isn't the case with all volunteers' schools or classes, which may be due to the presence of previous volunteers and their influence, or that other volunteers teach at specialized schools and not the local high school -- both instances are not applicable to myself, really, though maybe I can begin an influence towards the former for any future volunteers (or just the school in general). Second, the schedule...<br /><br />This year started off using last year's schedule. This is an inherent problem for English classes as last year the 7th, 10th, and 11th grades studied the subject, so this year the 8th and 11th grades are studying (the previous 11th grade having graduated). The other grades (above 5th grade level) study German. So now I have to figure out which of my 8th grade classes are held at what time by deciphering the Cyrillic schedule and finding "Немецча" (Nemets-cha), using that as my guide -- the previous 8th grade, which is now the 9th grade, studies German. If all this wasn't enough, a few days into classes the school decided to switch the morning sessions with the afternoon sessions in an attempt to get more of the older children, who were working in the fields, to come to class. So now I not only have to transmute German into English, but I also have to metamorphose this schedule to find the right combination of times and days, which have all gone topsy-turvy. Oh, and I forgot to mention -- all the classrooms have changed too, so the listings on this old riddle of a guide only served to befuddle the mind. Another volunteer friend rightly told me that this sounds like some kind of Da Vinci Code nonsense, that I don't have my decoder ring (and the appropriate dates/keys to go with it), and that I should just sit and wait till they clean the thing up before bothering with classes. I stuck it out until the new schedule came -- and heavy rains (for Kyrgyzstan, which is to say a rather less-than-normal amount by my account for Connecticut) have ruined a good deal of the bean harvesting, so more children are showing up. And, thank Pete, the times normalized so morning classes are now in the morning and afternoon classes in the afternoon.<br /><br />My one grievance with the new schedule, which hopefully (and should, but who knows if it will happen) will change soon, is the placement of English classes on Saturday. Now, I don't mind working on Saturdays, but this year I've come off right from the start and said I'm not working on the day (due to get-togethers et al tending to be weekend events), yet classes which I teach along with my counterpart were still slotted for the day. When I brought up the grievance with the vice-principal (the guy ultimately in charge of the schedule), he laughed, gave me the usual run-around, and said my counterpart can just teach the classes. Part of this is conforming to the rayon (district) English class schedule, which all have the same days of work and rest; part of it is pushing around my counterpart, a young woman who has a difficult time with getting results in this setting; and part of it is undoubtedly attributed to putting it past the American who will most likely forget and go on with things. Luckily my PC Program Manager came in from Bishkek a week later and the issue got brought up in it's entirety (discontinuity of classes being taught one way with one teacher present then another way when my counterpart and I team-teach, and the resulting confusion theretofore, me only having 9 hours of classes with the current schedule - stark contrast to last year's 36 - when I should have 18, and the majority of the classes are what I consider my students -- the ones I taught last year and who I actually want to teach) before the school's director. This actually got a little bit of a result in that she said the schedule would change and all the Saturday classes would be moved to Monday, but a week later change has yet to occur.<br /><br />The other major thing I brought up with my director when my PM came out was the fact that over the summer pretty much all my teaching-oriented supplies, sent as gifts from the States, had been stolen. The situation is as follows: before the school year completely ended last year, I left aforementioned supplies in the room given to us to be the English classroom. Before even all that, I went out and bought a lock for said classroom, so only the vice-principal and myself have the keys to the room. Prior to the end of the school year everyone asked me when I was going home over the summer, and every time I said I'm not going home. About halfway into the summer vacation, the school started repainting everything inside (with the same colors, doesn't really look different or fresher in my opinion, and I believe it a needless task). Needless to say, when I went to the English classroom about halfway through summer, everything was gone -- under the pretext of having repainted the room, of course. My first thought went to the supplies -- where were they taken. The caretaker in charge of storage at the school had no answers, and anybody my counterpart and I asked either didn't know or gave a half-answer. The people and houses we went to were all big run-arounds to dead ends. Everybody, despite me telling them I wasn't going anywhere, had complete looks of shock on their faces when they saw that I was telling the truth and was actually in my village and not in America. After a lot of toil, and even paying a visit to a fortune teller to try to figure something out (the beans she read had promising news, but I don't put much stock in it, though my counterpart does), there's been absolutely no progress. In my session with my PM and director they basically chocked it up to "That's the way we are" saying it's shameful and they're sorry, but also having a bit of a laugh about it at the same time. I was and still am mad about this whole incident -- however, I'm placing the blame in three instances here. First to the perpetrator(s) themself(ves), for taking what was a donation intended for the school and particularly intended for the children (logic does defy the intention behind this act, as there is little to no practical use that people can get out of these materials here). Second to the school and general community, for both letting the perpetration occur (particularly when the school should have been watching such things) and for a seemingly universal reluctance to help and acceptance of shame in such matters. Third and finally it's to myself for having thought a locked door could safeguard the classroom's belongings and my naivety in such matters -- it would have been better if I had stored the materials in my own room (despite it being quite overflowing with my personal items and things that are ready to go into the classroom, if and when it ever gets completed) and anticipated the remodelling, which is a universal thing here. Despite my Program Manager and director trying to assuage me otherwise, I truly felt that this was an act to indicate that my village does not want or need a volunteer. At the time I did not believe it, but upon further reflection, introspection, and actual experience, I find it to be true, although perhaps not in the capacity they meant.<br /><br />Currently I am in the process of working on two different grants/projects, trying to put together a Halloween concourse for my oblast (as the volunteers who did it last year are gone and I seem to be the only volunteer with initiative to undertake such a task), teaching classes in an improved capacity, and in general just trying to better my situation and purpose here. The first project is for the classroom, which we're writing a grant for through the Peace Corps Partnership Program, where I will be asking family and friends from the States to donate money for the cause. Currently my counterpart and I are working on the details, and though it's going slow it's actually going (it's taking time to get this new method of thinking and writing answers down, and I can't tell how aggrivating the "But, when it will be finished, what will we put on the walls? They will just be plain" comments are -- me always responding well yeah, that's what happens when what would have gone up on the walls gets stolen). Obstacles and aggrivations aside, I hope to have this done as soon as possible -- the biggest hurdle will be getting someone to go to Bishkek and get an account of prices, as my counterpart is prohibited by her family to do so and me doing so would be about the worst idea possible (being an American I'd get highly inflated prices, and it needs to be part of the community doing this work). The other grant will probably also be done through PCPP, but my good friend would be utilizing his own friends and family. This project is smaller but a pretty good idea and investment in my opinion -- my host eje, a seamstress, wants to get about four new sewing machines. With these she intends to both open a school for local girls to learn how to sew (which appears to be a reasonable and productive occupation for women in Kyrgyzstan -- men would generally never do such work here), and to improve her own business, particularly as the machines she has now are old and slow. Despite past misunderstandings and misgivings, I've come to realize my host eje is at heart a good, hard-working person and she's a step apart from the norm here -- I'm more than willing to help her out with this project. Currently we need to translate applications and get some examples of previous projects along similar lines (both of which are prospects at the moment, but are quite feasible).<br /><br />The Halloween concourse is sort of a by-product of my desire to improve myself, my work, and my volunteerism for my second year here. This particular concourse came about as part of my intention to have major themes/events and involve my students/school related to the English language and American cultural events. Halloween is also a work-in-progress, but I have a frame to go off of from last year -- and it will be an oblast-wide event, so I'm looking at about 40-50 children or so showing up (maybe 5-10 of which will be mine). I'm also interested in holding some sort of presentation/re-enactment given by my students for Thanksgiving, and I'd like another event for Christmas (though what that could be I don't know).<br /><br />As for work, things are going ok. Aside from the schedule and stolen materials issues, there's nothing too major. This year I started off from day one with a strict set of rules (which stunned a lot of my students -- and good for that! they need it in my opinion), laying down the law and letting kids know that this year will indeed be different than last. I'm utilizing a stick and carrot approach, with more stick than carrot at the beginning -- good kids will be rewarded, bad kids will fail class and/or be sent to the vice-principal for punishment (which, though despite my reluctance to endorse rectifiability of the physical nature, will hopefully serve more as a deterrent than something actually enforced). I have a lot of work ahead of me, especially with trying to shift the focus from teacher-domination to student-oriented methodologies and activities from my counterpart. But I'm actually optimistic about this year.<br /><br />Which leads me to me actually sitting down and finally, after these past few months, finding the motivation to write. My counterpart recently fell ill and today I taught all our classes on my own. With the older grades it's fine, I'm used to them and welcome the relief of having my counterpart biting heads off when students are too scared to speak in English from fear of her reprisal. But this also left me with my fifth graders, who my counterpart sort of started taking as her own class, preferring for me not to show up to them (I believe). I was somewhat daunted at this task, both for not being well prepared for class and at the prospect of teaching the younger kids on my own (lord knows how badly that made me want to quit last year) -- not to mention I had two sessions to teach for the same class, which is quite unusual at our school for one day. However, I came in with a shakey plan built off of suppositions and hastily-gained half knowledge which I gleaned from my counterpart before she quickly departed this morning. Things started off alright, with me following through on their homework - which was 'learn by heart the vocabulary.' Then I decided to utilize the task/game I came up with to build off of the homework - a game we know as hangman. I don't think I've ever seen a class so excited, and they actually listened to me. About two or three tries into it, our first session ended, and they had math next before going back to English. So I went into the teachers' lounge, sat and chatted with the director and another teacher for a little bit (the director asked me something about Obama, to which I answered "I can't watch the news here -- I live with little kids who always watch movies so the TV isn't free" -- to which the other teacher asked 'so then why don't you buy your own TV' and got my standard I'm not rich answer -- then I badgered the director a bit about the schedule not being changed to which I got a hasty answer and a quick retreat). Anywho, after that I went back for the final lesson of the day, again with my 5th formers. At the beginning everyone was asking to play the "dead person" game again -- I said only if you're quiet and don't behave naughtily. For this session I brought in my (at the school) trademark crayons and paper, and had them write namecards, upon which had one sentence of what they like and a picture to correspond to that. Although a little bit of a hassle, and me losing my voice in the middle of explaining what to do, it was, I believe, a hit with the class (and only two of my crayons broke, somewhat miraculous for them being distributed to 13 children) -- although one boy hit a girl and made her cry, so I had to scold him for that. Then we played some more hangman until the bell rang and the day was done. After class everyone wanted their namecard graded (I gave a 5, the best grade, to everyone who did it -- two boys decided not to), and a gaggle of girls stayed back. Mostly they were asking me to give them pens, threatening to cry if I didn't (to which I replied 'I'm not a store, and I'll cry too' -- which got a good laugh). As we left, two girls gave me their pencils and another gave me a wooden stone...uhh... thing -- when I asked why they did this they said they were for me for letting them draw the pictures. They then followed me out of the classroom, asking me questions about this and that, and one girl was even holding onto my arm as we went to the teachers' room. Outside the lounge they had unrelenting questions, to which I mostly jokingly replied (and garnered some friendly smiles from surrounding teachers and students), and then they departed.<br /><br />This moment is very profound. What started as uncertain dread became a great session with kids melting my heart and holding my arms as I left school. I'm slowly realizing that when competency and compassion mix and work together great and meaningful things can happen. My purpose here is becoming clearer -- it's not about being a great teacher or having the most projects or changing things the most or whatever we, myself included, as idealistic volunteers or people may have in mind. It's about how, despite me wanting so many times to call it in over the tough times, to see little to no progress in my work and actions, to reply to my friends and family every time they say I'm doing great work that I'm really not, that I'm still here... I didn't quit, and I'm still standing. It's not about being the best, but being different, being a role model, standing where so many other people would have (and in many cases actually have) fallen. It's how, at the end of the day, despite those people who wish you harm or to be gone, despite being laughed at as what you're doing to help is snatched out from under you, you can finally see and feel a real want for your presence. I realize now that vengeance would only come to hurt those I am here to serve, and I must look past my grievances, put aside my pettiness, and strive to be a better person... not for myself, but for these people I'm giving part of my life to. For when you come to such a realization as what I have right now, and you have tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat because you've come to learn that despite the seemingly desperate struggle there's meaning in this action, what power does an aggravator have? This is my place now, this is where my heart is, and I can call this home. And when my little angels who impart such hope, albeit unknowingly, ask me to give them pens, what else can I do but oblige? The dawn may rise slowly, but when it does...Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-33985239543027671542009-07-24T22:11:00.000-07:002009-07-24T22:13:41.694-07:00SummerSo today, July 7th, is my one year anniversary in Kyrgyzstan. In many ways it feels like a long time has come to pass, but overall it feels like just yesterday that I was going to The Wood n' Tap instead of the Chowder Pot (who would have thought there'd be an hour wait on a Tuesday??), having my last meal in America at a weird Mexican/'punk' food place (the only place open on July 4th...), saying my goodbyes both in person and on the phone, then leaving for Kyrgyzstan on my two-day venture via plane. It's been a wild ride so far, and I think this next year will have quite a bit more in store for me. Hopefully things will be much better, particularly with what experience I have and my own personal expectations in hand. Thanks to everyone for your support during year one, particularly my family and friends who have sent packages and mail!!<br />--<br />After getting back from Turkey things have been pretty interesting. The first week back I was a bit depressed, not in the least because I was ill from some bad meat that didn't quite want to digest. I was also comparing things from Kyrgyzstan to Turkey -- not fair, in my opinion, or condusive to much if anything at all. After week one, though, things started to turn around.<br />First off, I must say that having an open schedule is so very redeeming. My mental health has skyrocketed, there's virtually no stress in my life at the moment, and I've started routines (like working out every other day) that have done nothing but good for me. Sometimes I'm a bit bored and feel like I'm not doing a whole heck of a lot, but it's so nice to take this time to recharge and look around me for once, instead of being tied down and working/fighting all the time.<br />My relationship with my host family is getting better day by day. There are still some quirks (like me not agreeing to my host eje trying to take money from a student who wants to come over and study English with me) but on the whole I'm getting much more comfortable with them and I think they're feeling better around me too. The one sister I was talking with regularly and was developing a good friendship with unfortunately just recently left for Bishkek in order to study at university (I'm happy for her but am sad to see my best friend here in the village leave). The food is hit and miss but usually it's something decent -- for example, today I got a plate of beans, a very good thing (esp. since not many Kyrgyz people eat beans) -- and if things keep up I'll be pretty content for the next year to come.<br />The biggest change for me, personally, is my attitude. I wouldn't exactly describe it as complacent, but it's fairly similar. I guess I'm just at peace with things at the moment. The feeling first truly struck my consciousness while in Turkey as I was travelling to Chanakkale (not truly knowing where I'd be staying the night or what was in store for me, but feeling that things would be just fine and to take things in stride), and has carried over to the here and now. It's a very good perspective to have here, in my opinion, especially with the norms and way things work in-country. I haven't lost concern and am still careful, but it's nice not worrying about things so much -- particularly about little things that irritated me beforehand. I'm feel like I'm at home here, and can actually relax for once.<br />Feeling at home here is also something new and good for me, in my opinion. I'm starting to fall in love with Kyrgyzstan and the people living here. I think that for my first year here I was unfair, for whatever/many reasons (putting Africa in as my preference, the general attitude toward foreigners here, troubles with work/counterparts, health issues, et al). Things have been changing in me, though. I'm starting to find myself internally rooting for the Kyrgyz more and more every day, and that for every bad thing that may happen here there's something good that will happen (and the good thing usually counts 10 times more than the bad). Things are interesting at the moment -- I'm trying to figure out how to channel my new perspective into something good and positive.<br />I've found a piece of heaven. That's more than I can say for America! Travel to one of the farthest villages in my oblast, so close to Kazakhstan you can walk to the hills that serve as the border. Once you get to the village, take one street north, then turn onto a street leading east after about 15 minutes of walking. Take this road all the way to its end, and you'll come to a local family's home. This home sits right next to a pond/lake, with reeds growing around it, sitting as a very striking view with the mountains off in the distance. All around this home there are trees -- I had something of a feeling of displacement due to how very similar this particular woodsy setting was to my home at Harvest Lane. Compile this with some of the most hospitable people I've seen in country, and a heavenly setting is just what I have in mind. A stroke of Cupid may have struck me at this particular location...<br />--<br />Last week was the Talas Summer Camp. Somewhere between 60 and 70 students, 20 volunteers, and a handful of others were present at this camp. The schedule was usually sessions in the mornings and games/activities in the afternoon/evening -- lots of good stuff, essentially. I was on bazaar run duty throughout the week, so I went in to buy food every day so missed out on the morning events. However, I think it was a very good camp, especially for the kids -- if nothing else it was an environment in which they could be free and act without judgement (presumably), not to mention time away from daily chores and working in the field. I think my primarly role at the camp was trying to pick up on how to do things for next year -- the K-15's have sort of deemed me as the one to put things together and run the camp next time around.<br />--<br />A trip to Bishkek for my VAC meeting, helping out with friends and birthdays, going to the gym three times a week. Not much more to my summer than this at the moment.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-13971437836986959592009-07-01T23:35:00.000-07:002009-07-01T23:36:36.957-07:00Turkey!There and back again, a hobbit's... nevermind.<br />But I did go there and come back again! I was in Turkey from May 29th to June 11th and got to do a whole heck of a lot of things. I must say that I feel quite a bit refreshed and relaxed and like I have regained some sanity. It's nice!<br />I went to Turkey with a fellow volunteer. We pretty much spent the entire two weeks in Istanbul. It was a great time, the city is large and has about everything one could think of. The view alone is worth the trip -- a city half in Europe half in Asia, right on the sea, with sites and remnants dating back from Roman times... it's truly a great city. In Istanbul I primarily went out site seeing, shopping, and eating. There are plenty of great things to see in the city, be it the Hagia Sophia or 'random stone A' which used to be part of a forum. The shopping is fairly standard for your big city -- which is to say something I haven't seen in 11 months and decided to take advantage of while I still could! The food... oh the food. I'm not sure what I was most happy with in regard to the cuisine, but man was I ever happy! Everything was so delicious, be it the fish or the Ottoman cuisine or the omnipresent desserts, it was a gluttonous heaven!<br />I did take the time for an overnight stay outside Istanbul. My destination: Troy. My plan of action was sort of indefinate but I had a general outline of what I wanted to do. The standard trip to Troy first stops off in Chanakkale, a pretty good sized city in and of itself, before heading out to the epic ruins. That's what I did in this instance. I must say that, although I enjoyed Troy immensely, I think I enjoyed the trip to and from even more. It was a pleasant surprise!<br />First: getting there. In Istanbul I hopped on the metro (switching lines once) to get to the bus station. At the bus station I was greeted by some random guy who showed me the way to one of 160 someodd terminals where tickets are sold -- within 2 minutes I had a ticket and was ready to depart. No reservations, no haggling prices down from 'tourist' or 'American' rates (as is often the current case with me), no waiting 2+ hours for people to fill up seats. Within 20 minutes or so the bus was set and we departed. At this point I was a bit too much in a comfort zone to realize just how simply amazing this whole transportation process was -- things working efficiently, no absurd waits, no 10-20 men crowding around the American to get a rate. Shocking! Now, as if that wasn't enough. The buses in Turkey have airplane-esque service. I've been on the Greyhound a couple times in the States -- Turkey's buses kick Greyhound's butt. There are stewards who serve drinks and a snack, provide a pillow/blanket if asked for, and wash your hands with (what I at first thought simply lemon water) windex-type cleaning liquid. Not to mention that, for the entirety of the ride, there were absolutely spectacular views, be it of the countryside or the sea or the towns along the way. I also made friends with my neighbor (the guy sitting next to me) on both trips - the there and back - and I have to say that, despite claiming not to know English, they sure know a heck of a lot for my standards. That, plus my crash course in Turkish (combined with the crossovers from Kyrgyz) made for a good time of communication.<br />To get to Chanakkale, we had to take a ferry to cross through a strait. The bus just drives onto the ferry, people can get off and enjoy the view, and then hop back on the bus before departing. Very cool! Once the bus got off the ferry, however, I had an interesting experience. A guy gets on the bus, comes to my seat, and says 'I have seat #x' which was my seat. I said I also have the seat. The steward comes up, tells me "Your ticket is to Chanakkale, we're in Chanakkale now, time to get off!" and I basically get booted off the bus. I was planning on going in toward the bus station, not getting dropped off right after the ferry. Luckily my neighbor decided to get off with me as we were going to the same (presumably) location. The place my neighbor had in mind was literally right across the street from where I was booted off, a hotel. I had in mind a hostel, which bears the same nomenclature as this particular hotel. I went in anyway just to see the prices and all -- "We have a room available for 75 lira" the man behind the counter says. I was thinking something more in line with 30ish per night. I told him I needed something cheaper, he asked my budget, I highballed it at 50 lira, he found a room for 60 lira. I then made a decision, "I'm in Turkey on vacation, it's time to enjoy myself, just go ahead and do it," so I splurged on the hotel room. If I had been with someone else, it could have been 30 lira per person, but as I was with myself (and not quite fortunate enough to have a partner for the occassion) I dished that out.<br />Once settled with my hotel, I decided to explore Chanakkale a bit. I first was determined to find the bus station that has buses to Troy -- I didn't end up finding it that night. What I did find, however, was a bazaar. A true, honest-to-goodness, bazaar. Now, in Istanbul, there's the Grand Bazaar and Spice Bazaar, but in going to both I was severely disappointed because they're primarily tourist traps and not true bazaars (living in a country whose primary commerce method is through the bazaar, I've learned a thing or two). Granted, outside of the Spice Bazaar there are streets that are more true to a bazaar, but I was put off by those. Anyway, the Chanakkale Bazaar was what I was really looking for -- vendors hawking out their wares, piles of random stuff just sitting everywhere, order to the place (general goods, clothing, produce, dry foods etc. sections), and most importantly Turkish people shopping there. I ended up buying a couple kilos of fruit, apricots and strawberries, before calling it in. I was thoroughly impressed with it all, though, and was so happy to run into this bazaar.<br />After the bazaar I went back to the hotel to drop off my fruit, then decided to head out again to explore some more. On a local map I saw there was a little Troy exhibit up by the dock so I decided to head that way. There's a mock Trojan horse up there (it may be the one they used in the movie) and a little diorama of what Troy looked like, along with some information. However, that's not was truly caught my attention that evening. As I was reading some of the info on the Troy exhibit, I noticed some music playing to my right and thought a concert was going on. Upon further investigation, I realized that it was a presentation put on by a local high school. They were raising awareness for conservation, pollution, consumption methods, etc. I was pretty shocked. The girl who seemed to be in charge was asking me if I had questions, and then a European with not-so-great English interrupted and captured her attention. I decided to check out the rest of the display -- the students had made arts and crafts as well. I was impressed right out of my pants (figuratively speaking) by all of this. After I was done with looking at the displays, I started talking to the girl in charge, who had become free. Once again, blown away. She spoke pretty impeccable English (not to mention that the displays were all in English, and fairly well written as well), but that's not what truly impressed me. She's interested in activism and helping out third world countries and generally most of the stuff that I'm interested in. We spoke for about 30-40 minutes about all that sort of stuff. I pretty much found my perfect student, if she were older I would be thinking a little bit differently... Anyway, as with all Turkish people I've met, she truly loves her land and wants to show it off (especially to the foreigners) so she directed me to the castle.<br />I took off and went down the dock in the general direction of the castle. I wasn't quite sure how to approach the castle because the streets seemed to be closed, and there were some police guards standing at what I presumed to be an entrance to a private home. So, I decided to take some side streets. If I hadn't been living in Kyrgyzstan for the time I have been, I probably would have been scared and not gone down these streets. But, I've learned fairly well enough that looks can be deceiving and that the best stuff is often found where those are least likely to look. The first thing I noticed were some kids playing in the street (something I hadn't seen since leaving Kyrgyzstan) -- they were staring wide-eyed at me, so I said hello to them in Turkish. I then had a little following (one girl asked if I understood Turkish, though I think my answer proved the reality to be no, heh) as I found my way to the walled-off side of the castle. As I was walking down the street, a guy sitting outside his home enjoying his dinner asked me what I was doing (in English) and I told him I wanted to see the castle. He said it's closed now (it's apparantely a museum) but that if I come back in the morning it will be open. I tell him I'm leaving for Troy in the morning and won't have time, I just want to take a picture of it. He says sure! Come on over here, climb the wall, and take some pictures from there. So I head over, but notice there's a security guard on the other side of the wall. I voice my concern, he comes over and talks to the security guard. The security guard is just fine with me on the wall taking pictures -- we talk for a bit, he's from Istanbul, knows Enligh (a reoccuring theme in Turkey...), and is happy to allow me to photograph the castle he's guarding! It was really cool, especially being in this neighborhood that I guarantee 99% of tourists would never think of walking down. I said my thanks and goodbyes, went off to find something to eat, headed back to the hotel, perused the 1200 someodd tv stations that they get (most of which are from Europe - some being inappropriate for the younger viewing audience - but also some really cool stations from Iran etc.), then hit the sack for my big day at Troy.<br />The next morning I got up and enjoyed the complimentary breakfast (for 60 lira it better be!). At hotel in Istanbul, the breakfast is basically fresh cucumbers, tomatoes, olives, cheese, bread, and juice. Here there was more of a selection. Most notably was the cereal. Oh my. The cereal! Now, I've had a bit of cereal in Kyrgyzstan, but it's hard to come by and I eat it dry. But here, oh man, here I got to have cereal with cold milk! I haven't enjoyed a breakfast so much since... I don't know when. But oh was it good! Orange slices, tasty breads, eggs, and the cereal... I knew the day was going to be good! After breakfast I checked out early then headed down to the bus station. The bus apparently wasn't leaving until about 9:30 or 10, it was now about 8 or 8:30. I decided to just walk around a little bit, then came back. Lots of tourists on this little bus (more like a marshrutka to me, mini-van-esque) but that's ok, I didn't talk to anyone (really didn't feel like it either, the British couple in back didn't seem to be too nice in my opinion, plus I sort of enjoy my ambiguity -- I've been mistaken for many non-American nationalities, and in Turkey I've gotten some interesting ones). It only took about 30 minutes to get to Troy from Chanakkale, and for 4 lira it's not a bad deal at all. It was real interesting, though, when we got to Troy. The bus just stops in this open field-type area, everyone was sitting wondering what's going on, then he says "This is Troy!" and the dumbfounded tourists (me included) just sort of stumble off to find their way. After following a street for a little while, you actually come to the entrance to the park itself.<br />Now Troy, for most people, is probably just a bunch of ruins. It's nice to say you've been there and seen it, and many people probably are interested in it, but it doesn't hold much meaning if you haven't studied Homer or Virgil's work. I don't claim any special recognition on the fact, but four years of Latin in high school and a lot of time studying and translating the Aeneid (not to mention the Odyssey in literature classes) did put it in a special place for me. I was thinking quite a bit of Mr. Swanson, my Latin teacher, while I was going through the ruins. It would be nice if he could learn about my trip to Troy and perhaps see the pictures I took. Anyway, I found the ruins to be impressive and was trying to imagine things as they were depicted in the epics. There's a lot of stuff just lying around or waiting to be excavated, bits of columns, foundations of a home, parts of a wall, evidence of how the second Troy was built on top of the first (there are many different stages/several different Troys that were built). Overall an impressive place to be -- I was less enamored with the mock horse they have out front that all the kids were jumping into, and a bit miffed at the tour groups that would literally walk in front of my camera a I was taking a photo (luckily they rushed through everything anway so they didn't prove to be a big problem), but it was well worth the trip. I felt like I had come to a place of true significance.<br />During my trip I met up with an Australian couple who were there on holiday as well. They had been in the bus over, talking with the British couple. They proved to be very interesting people as well, recently retired, well-traveled, having knowledgable experience and expertise on a varying matter of subjects. On my last legs of Troy I spent some time with them, and after we left Troy and were waiting for a bus back, I spent time talking with them about most anything under the sun. It was a good time, I enjoyed meeting them. I should probably email them soon, seeing as how they gave me their business card...<br />Anyway, I got back to Chanakkale and right away got on the bus for Istanbul. No BS! I bought my ticket, was told to just hop on the ferry, and about 10 minutes later we were gone. I had a good neighbor again, talked it up a bit, and just had an enjoyable experience on my way back. I was a bit sad to leave Chanakkale, I really enjoyed it there and want to go back again. After the 5 or 6 hours to Istanbul, I just took the PT back to my hotel and crashed for the night.<br />The rest of my trip is basically me just enjoying the pleasures I wouldn't get to for the next year and a half. Excellent cuisine and service, daily showering, running water, electricity, daily (and free!) internet access, sea air, and a whole host of other things. It was truly an excellent time. Turkey is a great country! I want to go back again sometime, this time knowing that I should travel outside Istanbul (I'd probably spend most of my time travelling around the country if I could). My classification of Turkey: well-tempered people who love their country and are overall very courteous/accomodating, very beautiful (particularly the rustic bits), amazing food, overall an amazing country. I'd say it's a good place to fall in love, maybe one day I will get to find out. I give Turkey an A!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-6169186379216209762009-05-23T21:59:00.000-07:002009-05-23T22:00:41.850-07:00The New Times to ComeSo I'm trying to remember the last time I was in town to use the internet, but for the life of me I can't remember. I think it's been about a month or so.<br />Interesting times. So, a couple weeks back I had a little bit of a going nuts phase. First there was no power in my village for three days straight (record is 4 days) which, though I'm getting used to it, is a bit aggrivating. I invited my friend over so she could take a banya but with no electricity my host family wasn't about to start it up -- when we finally got the power back I took a banya. Banyas are, essentially, a steaming room or sauna which is the only way of cleaning one's self in the village -- this particular banya session was excruciatingly hot. The water was boiling, the heat was immense (and this is after I told my family I'm not a piece of food, I can't handle a banya that hot). About five minutes in I was seeing spots and needed to get out -- it took me about 20 minutes just to collect myself and escape. Afterward I collapsed onto my bed, tried drinking some water, and just rest. Eating later on made me feel better.<br />After the power came back I was awoken to something rather unpleasant. There are five children in this family, two of them 17 year old girls, and they play music. They play it during the day, they play it during the night. On this occassion, after having no power for 3 days, they decided to blast their ruckus, starting at 7 am (waking me up, rather irritating -- they did so today too) and played it until who-knows-when (it was still going when I went to bed at 10 pm). Now, I'm not opposed to music or it being played in such a manner on occassion, despite my rather non-listening habits, but this excess and the same songs being played over and over (sometimes playing the same song 10 times in a row) drives me nuts. My fam knows I don't like it, but that doesn't seem to stop them from blasting away at any time of day or night. I'm going to have a word because today, in particular, I was rudely ripped from a decent dream at 7 in the morning.<br />On top of the power outage, banya incident, and music, my family was acting a bit weird. They conveniently forgot to notify me of a few meals that week and were acting standoffish toward me. Some of it, from what I've gleaned, is due to graduation woes -- my sisters are going through all sorts of drama and teenage angst over the matter (personally I'm more disturbed that they put more effort into all this drama, field trips, and dancing than they do into studying and learning). Still, it didn't make that week any easier. I needed a good wind-down session so I headed into a town (not Talas) with a couple other volunteers and hit the gym (which was just recently opened visa vi the health volunteer's, who lives in this town, project). It worked out and I got back a bit more of my sanity. Time away from site can be very necessary here.<br />One thing that's been disappointing is I haven't been able to start the classroom project. The reason for that is my counterpart hasn't been at work for so long. I know she and my school director think I'm going to write this grant myself, but that's not how I'm going to do a project here. My philosophy is that I'll help, but my counterpart should be the one doing the work (otherwise what's the point of all this team-teaching nonsense, there needs to be a skills transfer). However, when people are sick or busy following husband's orders to hold a party because some neighbor bought a car (essentially an excuse to gambol and imbibe), it makes doing something like getting desks and chairs rather difficult. I'm not going to start spoon feeding, and if there's no willingness to do work for such a prospect then it's not going to get done. One of the sad realities of volunteerism; good intentions don't necessarily add up to results.<br />--<br />I have to say that the hiking situation at my village is amazing! A fellow K-16 and I have been working on one path that goes into the mountains and have both gone to the end of it (a wall of mountains is there, can't really scale anything at that point) and found a side path that leads to the top of one of the mountains along the side path. It's absolutely gorgeous out there! It also kicks my lazy butt, which is something I enjoy (however, not too keen on taking a banya right after I get back from them -- need some time to recoup from my headache) and is doing my body good, I think. My family is scared, and has gotten the village on their side -- they think that wolves and coyotes and foxes and bears and bandits (quite possibly riding the bears, from what my family says) are all out to get me. More realistically they think that crazy drunk people will come after me, which, ironically, has happened quite often while in the village and hasn't happened at all while trekking outside it (I have met some awesome shephards though, very nice men).<br />Right now the K-17s are newly arrived and I must say I'm very excited. Yesterday I met with a couple of them, the two who are my neighbors, to spend the day with them, help them a bit, give them info, etc. I'm quite happy about the new group from this first impression -- they seem much more relaxed and mature than I remember things when I first got to site. Unfortunately Peace Corps is being a bit uptight about things and throwing out all sorts of mixed information which is putting a damper on the plans we made to welcome the 17s; it would be nice to have a clear answer and a clear policy from PC. Nevertheless, there are nine new volunteers here and they all seem so happy and fresh and full of good ideas, so it's a good time and something my oblast needs.<br />Speaking of which, I've had some interesting exchanges with the PC lately. As the VAC representative it's my duty to represent my oblast's concerns etc. so recently I've been doing that. I think we'll be able to make some progress with what's been going on, hopefully improving the relations between PC and my oblast (and, ideally, all the volunteers in country). We'll see how things go, initially I don't think PC was too happy with what I (we) had to say, but if the conversation continues things may get better.<br />For now, I'm getting ready for Istanbul. It's something that I think I need and I'm really looking forward to. Birthday in Turkey! I'm also trying to get some good pictures of my village -- if all works out I'll get to put them up while in Turkey, hopefully on more reliable (maybe free??) internet at the hotel I'm staying at. Good things to come, May 28th is my departure date!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-59150079321021772012009-04-28T02:53:00.000-07:002009-04-28T02:54:28.346-07:00The lightWhat's in a volunteer? A common feeling amongst my fellows is that we feel like we're not doing enough, not being effective, not fulfilling goals and ideas and dreams of what it is to be a volunteer. I know this is something I've had in mind for quite a while. Kyrgyzstan has a culture that will often make volunteers feel inept while they are performing well, mainly because of indirectness and because goodbyes are the time to show gratitude. In any case, I feel like I've had a a roller coaster of a time over here so far -- periods of feeling completely useless and periods of seeing the lights in eyes of people I'm dealing with. It's taken a lot of time and effort and will continue to do so. But I've learned fairly intuitively that more patience than what I have in stock is needed to be an effective volunteer; more community involvement and integration and just locally-focused initiatives should be the primary drive of a volunteer (which means being more of a guide/mediator/transitioner/voice than an actor, as many might see volunteerism); an exchange of ideas and skills and culture and generally everything is key to volunteer service, it's not just the "Hand of God" coming down to show a right way (something I believe integral to any, any volunteer work); mistakes and miscommunications are, while at the time of occurrance a burden and aggravance, some of the best tools for learning and developing. Slow, gradual development is what makes the world progress and it's the same regarless of whether someone is trying to get books for their school or implement a clean, safe, and operational new hospital. Volunteer virtues (many of which I need to improve on) in my mind are: patience, open-mindedness, tough skin, tenacity, humor, humility, awareness and perception, and having a positive mindset the majority of the time (particularly while doing the volunteer work).<br /><br />I'm not sure why I chose now in particular to write about that. I guess it's just a state of mind currently. I've been here long enough to learn what I'm decent at and what I need to improve, and to gauge what's feasible with the rest of my service. In many ways it feels like I just got here, and in many ways it feels like I've been here for ages. It's an interesting situation. I'm in a spot now that I wasn't 4 months ago and I feel I've grown (hopefully for the better) quite a bit since the start of my service. I'm definately not the same person I left the States as, and with 16 months to go there's just so much possibility and potential.<br /><br />Right now I'm really happy with my site. My host sister is pretty cool -- the rest of the fam is still a bit awkward and whatnot, but she likes it when I bring other volunteers over and how we talk and joke and are generally more frank and open. The food I get here isn't too bad most of the time either -- sure it's probably not the healthiest or tastiest food, but within the week I get at least some variety (some vol's go for weeks straight of the same food, which is usually just noodles). Annoying/naughty kids at school aside, classes are going alright and I enjoy teaching my clubs and motivated students. And, and, I found something really great at my site.<br /><br />So one or two blog posts ago I put up my "excursion to the mountains" story. Hiking. My village has some truly amazing hiking, and my first trip out sort of opened the door to it all. A couple days ago some other K-16s (my group) and myself were planning to go visit some Australian residents for lunch; they cancelled the lunch, however, so I was asked if it would be possible for the three volunteers to come to my site and try out the hiking scene. I said yes, of course (I usually don't get many guests over). Once everyone arrived we made some lunch preparations, packed them up, then headed to the northern range that encapsulates Talas Valley and picked a destination. It was nice and sunny, and although most of us are lethargic and out of shape from the grueling winter, we made it in good time to the base of the mountain-mountains (again for me, though to the east rather than west, which is where I went last time).<br /><br />On this trip I saw a lot more cool stuff than the first time I went. First, we went past the cemetary that's right outside my village, which is an interesting place in and of itself (though I think it's taboo for people to just wantonly go to it or take pictures or whatever, we stayed a good ways away, esp since there was a funeral that day). Walking past that, we decided to go to one of the bigger hill/mountain type areas just before the moutain range itself and set up our little picnic there. So we just walked up the road until we got to a decent spot near the hill where we could easily hike up. Everything out here was simply gorgeous, lots of interesting rock formations, colors, distant sites, everything. First, we saw that if we continued following the road it goes right into the mountains themselves, looking something like the way to Mordor. We also saw that it's possible to hike paths that go to the top of the mountains (we even saw a shepard doing it that day!) so, once (at least for me) in better shape, that will happen sometime in the future. I also learned what the heck "Purple Mountains Majesty" means because I got to see some purple mountains which were very amazing, or majestic as it should aptly be put. At the top of the hill we got to see lots of interesting tidbits of the surrounding land. The spot that drew my attention the most was this tower-esque looking thing that was mostly blocked by a smaller hill directly in front of us; we couldn't determine if it was natural or man-made. I'm going to go out on another trip and check it out sometime soon.<br /><br />A couple days later, today (for me), I invited my friend Brock out again. Brock is sportsman! (Try to imagine that with something of a Russian accent) He's been wanting to go hiking and exercise a lot, but doesn't have the means to do so quite as readily due to living in the city. So he got to my place around 10:30ish in the morning and we decided to head out again, despite the weather being grey and misty. This time, instead of heading up a hill before the mountains, we followed the road into the mountains themselves. The road seems fairly used (esp since a truck was going along it while we were making our way up) so that's good in and of itself. Also what's good is that it seems vacant for the most part -- no bottles or trash or signs of people traversing it on foot, so it's just quiet and peaceful and beautiful. The road also has a steady incline, and despite my puffing (need to get in better shape... arg) it seemed to be very slight. When looking back after going in for about an hour or so, however, we could see that the incline was much more pronounced than what was perceived... not dangerous, just we were higher up than we initially thought we would be. Nevertheless, there are all sorts of really interesting formations and rocks along the way (some of the mountainsides look like trees instead of rock) and the road goes pretty deep in. We decided that after a while we'd head back, particularly since the rain was starting to pick up. But we got pretty far in, and almost reached another mountain wall (didn't go up to it and see where it went due to some people up ahead in that area, didn't want to bother ourselves with them). On the way back there was some mist picking up in the pass, making things simply gorgeous (and making me think of the Misty Mountains -- seriously, LOTR could have been filmed in Kyrgyzstan). It was just an amazing path to take, despite my not being in the best of shape to traverse it, and I'm really glad I did (despite being cold and drenched now -- hope I don't get sick!). I now think I'm going to try at least a weekly trek on different paths, and I may have something of a treasure on my hands as far as the volunteers go (as far as I know my village is the only one close enough to these mountains to go on a hike such as this, AND have a bridge that crosses over the Talas River -- which is necessary to get to these mountains). Hurrah!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-39111241714304713562009-04-17T03:32:00.000-07:002009-04-17T03:34:05.269-07:00What a WeekendWeekend. Whirlwind. Whirlwind weekend. That was my most recent activity. For what reason was it a whirlwind? We shall soon see.<br /><br />First, I was planning to go with nine other volunteers to Taraz, Kazakhstan for a day trip. The decision started a couple weeks back, and I decided to take some of my annual leave to go. That was all set, I got approved and became excited. Next, PC Kstan's country director called me up on a Thursday and requested I come in for Sunday (Easter) because there was a VAC (volunteer advisory committee -- the one I was elected to be a rep for) meeting. After a bit of prodding I was convinced to go -- Taraz one day, Bishkek the next. That's quite a bit of travel!<br /><br />Taraz. Taraz is nice. Taraz is beautiful. I love Taraz... (sorry, just had to have some mimic homework answers to go along with that). It was a real nice trip, I must say. I was promised a land of mangoes and exotic fruit, but after having recently read the novel "What is the What" I figured it was similar to the Sudan/Ethiopia contortion relayed by the Lost Boys. I wasn't too disappointed in that regard -- there was no exotic fruit waiting to be purchased by eager PC volunteers that day, just a great deal more of the fruit we already have in Talas. However, there was a great deal that was noticably different about that city. First off: color. Going there made my eyes want to water; buildings are painted practically all shades of pastel, I thought I was walking through Easter more than once. I heard that blue, maybe all blue, maybe just the tealish-blue of the Kazakh flag, is a free paint color in Kazakhstan because it displays patriotism, pride, or some other such image-bolstering factor. In any case, things are colorful enough to warrant such a claim, although there were quite a few pink buildings as well... sort of like Mexico.<br /><br />Anyway, the trip, for me, consisted of going to a cafe, a restaurant, and then a supermarket. Walking around we saw these buildings, and lush, cared for parks, and cars actually stopping for pedestrians rather than speeding up at the site of them and honking madly, and women not wearing joluks (head scarves -- culture here demands married women to wear them, particularly when with family), and just... difference. Anyway, we went to the first cafe (along the way some volunteers got random street food -- one bought doughnuts!! they were so good), which was pretty nice. There I got a milkshake (been a long time since I've had one of those) and a chicken wrap. It was delicious. We spent maybe an hour or so at this spot, then decided to move on to the restaurant. Some people went to use the internet cafe; I decided not to and so mosied on with the other half of the group.<br /><br />The Georgian Cafe. That's right, Georgian food, in Taraz Kazakhstan. In the States I would have given a skeptical eye to such a notion. At this point, however, it's not Kyrgyz food so I'm just excited for anything different (particularly if it's not sheep, noodles, or potato). I must say, the cuisine was top notch. One of the volunteers is pulling his second tour, his first being in Georgia, so he knows a thing or two about the food. One thing I couldn't stop hearing about was hachipori, which is "cheesy bread" similar to a pizza with no sauce. We ordered two of those, some salads, an assorted mix of different tastes such as walnut paste wrapped in eggplant (pretty good), a couple minor dishes of chicken smothered in walnut sauce, and the grand pubah -- dishes of pork chops served with some veggies and a spicy plum sauce. Oh my. Oh my... It was so good. Eating that burger in Bishkek, although it's still something I often dream about, has nothing on this. Delicious, scrumptious, excellent ethnic food blows garbage like burgers right out of the water -- and that's what this was. I was so happy -- everything was so good, and pork is a rare meat (never eaten by Kyrgyz) that was prepared very well here. I'm a fan, instantly. Georgian food quite possibly could be saving my life.<br /><br />After the restaurant we went on over to "Gros Mart" as the volunteers dubbed it -- in Kyrgyzstan it's usually Narodni (which we don't have any of in Talas), but in Kazakhstan it seems to be Gros, the big supermarket. When we walked in things were disappointing. Either they had a big sale, someone robbed them, or they're going out of business because the shelves were mostly empty. Perhaps that's good for me -- last time I was in a packed Narodni I had that semi-panic attack. But I managed to find some good items -- bought a hilarious Russified bottle of Heinz Ketchup, clothespins, curry powder, cayanne pepper, and a jar of (what I find to be a hilarious name) Fruit of the Forest jam, which comes from Spain and has a funny description written in English. Most other volunteers were disappointed in Gros; I was fine with it, but then again feeding the mouse in my room and finding random pears at the bazaar makes me happy these days.<br /><br />We came on back through the border. On the way to and from Taraz, right as you get into Kazakhstan, one can see a rather intriguing site -- some nuclear plant reactors. That in and of itself is enough to warrant interest from someone like me, but there are homes and sheep grazing right next to the thing. I took a couple pictures (didn't manage to get the sheep grazing in one though... regret that immensely), and was reminded of the guest speaker we had come speak on campus in the fall of 2007 about Darfur and the particular situation he got into (and the franticness of that... Dr. A!). Also along the way, there's a dam on the Kyrgyz side right before entering Kazakhstan. On this dam there's a huge, ginormous Lenin head carved into one side. We're told it's either the largest Lenin head in the world, or Central Asia (I forget which). Still, it's impressive. Didn't get a good picture of it though.<br /><br />That night I stayed in Talas City with one of the coolest volunteers in-country, then the next day headed out for Bishkek. On the way there I saw skiiers once again, probably taking advantage of what real snow they can while it's still around (I've seen them every single time I've gone to Bishkek, I think they're European or something...). It was a bit unnerving because it was the first time I was in the big city by myself and I just don't know my way around. I got my destination from my director and asked my driver if he could take me there -- he could, just for some more money (per usual... Kyrgyz people never pay extra to go to their Bishkek destination). I wasn't complaining, however, because if I got dropped off at the voksal (bus station) I would have to pay a lot for a taxi anyway, and I wasn't going to risk a marshrutka or bus. The driver got me to the correct street, took me in a couple blocks, overshot the target number, and I just got out. When I got out I saw someone with nice washed hair and a backpack heading in the general direction I needed to go, and thought "That's a volunteer!" The problem is, once I got to my destination after about 10 minutes, that person kept on walking. Lesson learned: people in Bishkek sometimes have backpacks, wash their hair, and act a bit more Western (not to mention more white/Russian people live there than in Talas). But I got to the hotel, the receptionist mercifully knew English (another thing about Bishkek, a lot of people speak Russian and Russian only), and I got my room. It was still an hour and a half before I needed to go anywhere, so I decided to... dun dun dun, take a shower! It amazed me, not only hot running water, but a legit tub, and shower curtains! I haven't seen shower curtains since July 5th last year. Heaven! I miss showers so much...<br /><br />After getting all prettied up, it was time to head out to the director's apartment. I was meeting up with another volunteer (who's actually a volunteer leader, a special position -- half volunteer, half PC staff) who was going to help me get to this apartment. I saw a different volunteer walking along the street on the other side, decided to call him up to get his attention, and we stood in front of the hotel for a few minutes waiting for volunteer leader to come by. We were all heading there, so it was a good time. The apartment is nice. It's good for American standards. Very spacious, has a balcony, dining room, well-applianced kitchen, etc. There are even security guards at it. Bishkek is like another world, and this apartment yet another world inside that other world. Anyway, we were served iced tea and juice first, with some pistachios and cashews and olives for appetizers, then the main course of salad (with lettuce! rare!) and pizza came, with a delicious and super chocolatey cake (from King Arthur, a New England company apparantly, who makes cake mixes -- wink wink nudge nudge for those interested in package ideas). We discussed current situations throughout dinner, primarily trying to figure out how to improve what we have and remain safe. It was good being with this group of people, though... particularly the volunteers. And it was Easter. Forgot about that (my host eje, after telling me she doesn't know this holiday because she's Muslim, told me I was wrong, Easter is the 19th because that's when the Russians celebrate it...).<br /><br />After the meeting I went back to my room and waited for the phone call from home. During the meeting my brother called me -- thankfully they could call back. It was great being able to talk to home again, this is only the 6th or so (3rd for someone else... though I'm not sure how accurate the 6th is) time I've gotten a call from home while in-country. Call more! Anyway I got to hear Nate doing his thing in the background -- so weird, he's still just the little guy who couldn't stand on his own in my memory -- and talk to everyone in the fam for an hour. It makes things a little better that I got to have good food throughout the weekend -- it was certainly no lasagna, but it helped a lot with my state of happiness. And I'm going to be a godfather soon! Man oh man I wish I could be in America for a while for that. Time to clean up my act, though, stop partying so hard, settle down a bit, stop going to crazy countries and doing what I'm doing...<br /><br />On Monday I went in early for some business-type items at PC headquarters. Met with the director one-on-one in an attempt to try getting Taraz weekend travel for the entire oblast of Talas (current policy states anyone within 35 kilometers of a border crossing, which excludes the majority of the oblast). Hopefully things work out with that. After HQ, I met up with another volunteer and went out with her to lunch. We went to a 60's style restaurant, I was in shock. It was an American-style restaurant, akin to your Chile's or Friday's or whatever with the photos and memorabilia along the wall (they had Martin Luther King, Jr. up, I'm impressed!) and 60's music playing. It was an awesome place. We both got barbeque chicken, which was also amazing (the sauce was real bbq sauce), and sat there for an hour or two talking and having a good time (I think...). It was funny watching the locals come in and order tea and bread (in retrospect it may be an economical thing, the other items are a bit pricey) in this American-styled restaurant that serves pizza, bbq, burgers, etc. It was a good time, I just wish I had more than a morning and noon to spend in the city with this volunteer.<br /><br />Afterward she took me to the bus stop and waited until a bus that would go to the voksal came along (she lives in Chui oblast and, despite denying decent knowledge of the city, knows Bishkek a lot better than I do). We said our goodbyes and I hopped on, feeling happy and contented. The bus ride took an hour. At one point I got off at the wrong spot (Dordoi Bazaar, a rather huge place I wouldn't want to be on my own) after paying the driver, mistaking the myriad marshrutkas for the voksal. Luckily traffic forbade the bus from travelling too far, so as soon as brain told body this isn't right, I scurried back and explained to the driver (him speaking to me in Russian, me speaking to him in Kyrgyz, and everything seeming to make sense) where I was going. The bus was much emptier at this point (I had stood the entire time) so there were some seats open; I left a seat near me open just in case an older person or female wanted to sit, as is customary in country. A couple minutes into the ride, a babushka sitting next to me told me to sit; I told her I don't understand Russian, but the Russian lady sitting next to her said, in English, "Sit down please." I sat down next to an eje (Kyrgyz woman, maybe in her 40s) and had a decent conversation with her and the Russian lady (who knows some English) sitting across the aisle. I told them I know Talas, but I don't know Bishkek -- I'm going to the voksal. I was told "in 5 minutes" and that it's good I know Kyrgyz -- there are Kyrgyz people/children who don't know Kyrgyz. Azamat/Maladetst! When they got off they told the driver "that boy there is going to the voksal, let him know when you get there, help him out" etc. We got to the voksal, I told the driver I paid him 10 som when I got off at the bazaar, and he handed me 4 som back (which is correct, the bus only costs 6 som). A potentially harrowing bus experience turned into a rather positive one! At the voksal I bulled on past the hagglers trying to get me to go somewhere or another, went right to the Talas spot, heard not Talas but somewhere even better -- the next big village which is west of me (thus good, they would pass through my village) -- and that they needed only one more person. I went right up to the driver, got a good price right off the bat, and had a gorgeous ride home with nothing but the wonderous lunch and the company of said meal to think about for the next five hours.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-38589133080610344592009-04-03T22:04:00.000-07:002009-04-03T22:05:06.080-07:00Freedom?Ten days off from school. It's been good and bad. The good: I've had time for R&R, went out to visit my friend on the outskirts of the oblast (and country), got to talk with the NY Times person, and in general just have a less stressful environment. The bad: halfway through my break PC put in effect a security measure where no volunteers could leave site (lasted a couple days, situation over now), and my host family is either shunning me or just treating me like I'm some sort of weirdo who shouldn't be here.<br /><br />Yesterday (the 28th) I finally took the initiative to go out to the surrounding landscape, or, as it would be put in Kyrgyz, I went on an 'excursion.' I basically went up to the foot of the mountains that neighbor Kazakhstan to the north, which took about 2 1/2 hours one-way. It was a nice day, albeit windy (standing on top of hills doesn't help that) but it was very worthwhile and refreshing. Being cooped up in the village and doing/not doing all sorts of things, it acted as a sort of getaway. Spring is pretty much here now, so I got to see some green hills with the beginnings of flowers blossoming, in addition to the standard sheep grazing. I didn't have a clear path when I first set out, so I just looked for a spot I was interested in getting to and headed toward it. Climbing about a half dozen hills or so, I realized quite quickly that I could do with a bit more exercise. My target, a non-hill yet non-mountain penninsula-type jutting, was pretty high up and took me a bit of energy and determination to scale. Once on top, I saw that the landing (right before the mountain-mountains) I wanted to get to lay along a rather narrow path with steep drops on both sides. Part of me wanted to turn back, but after resting for a couple minutes my gut and gumption took me out to the ledge. I was pretty darn scared, primarily because of the way I saw the ground way down below was moving out of my periphirals. But taking it slowly and sticking to the middle, I got out to where I wanted to go. It was beautiful. I took several pictures and a video (unfortunately videos are huge, unless I can get one of the tech-savvy volunteers to help compress it I'll have to hold it until reaching home before sharing). The way back was no less scary; I picked a purple flower which was growing by its lonesome on the narrow path as a momento. Upon climbing down, I learned the meaning of being scared sh... well, lets just say, it's a good thing I brought some TP.<br /><br />My nighttime woes have continued this past week. Strange dreams, sometimes nightmares, have been invading my slumber. I think it's a sign of stress -- I know I'm concerned with my health in regard to this all. Last night, after my trek to the mountains, things calmed down a bit in my sleep. I remember having a dream and that it was mild, but details and harshnesses aren't there like with my previous dreams. I think the exercise has something to do with it.<br />The host family. Sometimes I just don't know what to think. Throughout this break, they seem to be on my case. What about? Why, my personality. "How can you sit in your room and read books, or use your computer??" they ask. The biggest hit, though, is their newly consistent "You're so quiet" ploy. It seems like quiet people are scum. How come I'm not out in the street dancing and frolicking and throwing fire-crackers and sitting in baike rings drinking vodka? Heh. "You don't have friends here." No kidding! And while I'm in my room trying to type up requests for books and project proposal drafts, you're out sweeping the yard, cutting down the one tree we have, and picking weeds, yet I'm the one that's lazy and doing nothing. Oh tangible results, why must you garner all the glory. Or is it just that I'm not performing manual labor -- perhaps anything different just isn't real work, or meaningful/useful. Not that I haven't done my fair share either, be it here or in the States... Oi. I find myself longing for independence -- after searching so long for it back home, I sort of chose the wrong post-college work and the wrong country for that goal.<br /><br />Also recently found out about ticket prices to Istanbul. With what I get as a volunteer, I won't be able to save up for a trip this summer (roundtrip tickets cost $660). It looks like I'll be sticking to in-country for my time of service, especially since my last summer here (in 2010) I won't be able to travel due to PC policy requiring volunteers to remain in country during their last 3 months of service. Since I'm supposed to be working when my school is open, that really only leaves this coming summer for vacation possibilities. Oi, being a teacher-brand volunteer certainly hasn't helped me find ways to relax or relieve stress.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-5013750204048945802009-03-20T01:58:00.001-07:002009-03-20T01:58:50.732-07:00When things go wellSo I am at PDM right now, and things are... interesting. My counterpart didn't end up coming - she had some family issues to take care of - and I thought I would be here on my own. Instead I received a rather nasty shock this morning. The teacher I have had so many issues with and just recently stopped working with was sitting in the conference room. My program manager decided that since my counterpart wasn't coming I needed to have someone here from my school, and the school's director wasn't free. I confronted my PM and told her about all this -- she said that this teacher's purpose is primarily to just relay information back to my counterpart and director, but that I still had to work on a presentable project with her for this conference. I'm just a bit more than miffed at that, and am currently wondering how any of this will work.<br />--<br />PDM is finished. The information we learned was very useful -- I feel like I can actually start being a volunteer now, not just a teacher-drone. Things didn't go as poorly as I expected with the counterpart, in part because the majority of our sessions were done separately for language purposes. Suffice it to say, though, she did a complete 180 when it came time to start working on a project proposal. Now I have this woman saying I'm going to be written about in the history of my village and that the village's grandchildren will sing to their grandchildren about said deeds. I need to quell that, I'm not here to attain fame or deification or what have you. I just need to pass along the skills to be able to start projects in the community and help out with what I can. Hopefully things can get started soon.<br />One thing that was mentioned for a project idea is opening up a kindergarten in my village. Not exactly a small feat, that. But it's good to know that things are thought of among the community members. I'm not supposed to come in and tell people what they need, we certainly do enough of that as a world power in other fields of influence. It's a relief and inspiration. Grassroots work, finally, can start to blossom.<br />--<br />A week in Bishkek. It's kind of funny, especially in retrospect. I had fun getting together with other volunteers and doing that whole bit, and it was nice having a change of pace. But it also didn't fit. I didn't go to any of the stores or restaurants, feeling I didn't really need to, and I'm sort of proud of myself for it. One day I went to a store called Narodnie, basically a standard supermarket, and had something of a minor panic attack -- the walls lined with wrapped products (particularly fruit -- abberation!), a feeling of claustrophobia, the bright lights shining down at me... I felt like I couldn't breathe and immediately got a headache. My escape to the street was a relief, but it was still an alien world -- paved roads, traffic, lights, car pollution... I was a village bumpkin in a strange and hostile environment. America will be difficult to adjust back to, I imagine.<br />I would love to delve into a matter concerning volunteers that occurred a day after the week of seminars. That, however, would be folly. Suffice to say, something less than desirable took place that involved multiple parties (thankfully I was not present) and now prices are being paid. It couldn't have come at a worse time either, just after other incidents and the prospect of a healing on the horizon. It's a shame, truly. We, the volunteers, need to grow up and learn that we cannot waste our two years here with such trivial contrivances.<br />Upon arrival back at site spring continues to be staved off by the last hurrahs of winter. It's disconcertning -- I thought I left this weather back in the NE States... But what can I do. My family procured some fish (was ok, they leave all the bones in it though, making for some tricky eating) and some mushrooms (!!!) when I got back. I'm so pumped about the mushrooms! My family apparantely grows them on a few logs in the yard. Mmmm mushrooms... Haven't gotten sick from eating them yet either. Good news!<br />Things are starting to look up at site. I have people telling me they missed me and were asking where I went from the past week. My classroom situation is starting to unfold, and prospects for the future here are starting to unveil themselves. This coming week will be spring break, following Nooruz (Muslim New Year) and those celebrations. I think I'm going to head into the city this weekend to view the festivities and games that accompany the holiday -- lots of interesting and truly national ceremonies etc. take place on this holiday.<br />Recently I've been thinking, reading, and watching (via movies) about Africa. It's odd to explain, but I just feel a connection with the continent. In large part I'm a volunteer today because of Africa -- my quest for social justice has strong roots in it, be it the friends I made during summers at Six Flags or trying to be an activist on my college campus. I put my #1 location preference for Peace Corps as Africa, but the first available slot was Central Asia. It's hard to determine right now, but I think that at some point in my life I want to work somewhere on the vast continent.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-3743297715206647062009-03-09T00:41:00.000-07:002009-03-09T00:42:45.972-07:00The Empire Strikes... Uh, yeahI have my classroom. My hours are more reasonable. I'm working with my one true counterpart now. Things are so bright I think I could cry!<br />Yesterday I went to school for my Kyrgyz tutoring. My tutor was there, I saw her coat, but she didn't show up to teach me Kyrgyz. Instead she went to a seminar and neglected to tell me. Oh well, that's the norm here. I tried going to the English classroom, but it wouldn't open. The lock still isn't installed, so initially I thought it was locked from the inside. Coming back today, it still wouldn't open, so I went to the school's director. Apparantly the zavuch (vice-principal) took it upon himself to nail the room shut, for seemingly no reason. Luckily I had a horde of club students waiting out in the hall for me, and he got a pair of pliers to take the nail out. I've long since stopped trying to understand the logic behind such actions -- just let me have my room, please.<br />One volunteer from my oblast is gone, he got in trouble for his actions. This particular volunteer was my oblast's VAC representative, a committee dedicated to handling volunteer issues (the fact that I'm not 100% sure on what VAC stands for is testament to how involved I was). However, with his absence, there's a spot open that my fellow oblasters must vote on. After thinking things over I'm going to try running for the spot. In a very real way I miss doing the representation bid, be it interning or model UN'ing or what have you, and volunteer rights and issues are fairly critical in this organization that seems very top-heavy. Am I qualified for such a position? Who knows. But I'd like to think I'll make a greater effort to get input from my fellow oblasters and actually represent. I feel I'm in a good position with most of my oblast, and those I'm not close with I'm at least communicative with. To me its definately not a free ride to Bishkek to party and have fun.<br />This coming week is PDM. Finally, a chance to get out from the teaching grind and learn some useful things for developmental and project purposes. It's also (I believe) the last time my group of volunteers will all get together in one place during service. Needless to say, I'm looking forward to it. I'll be heading in a day early and spending some time with my host family, which I'm anticipating even more than PDM. On top of it all this Sunday is Women's Day, which is very important and worthy, in my opinion, particularly in a country where women really need recognition for what they do. I bought some flowers and am going to make a cake (and perhaps some pasta fagioli) for my Talas family, trying to do something similar for my Chuy family.<br />We've all been told March is a milestone for volunteers. I'm starting to feel it. Work is getting better. The crummy winter days are dying out to sunny, warm, and bird-song filled ones. Things are starting to go right for once! The new batch of volunteers is arriving toward the end of the month, which is quite exciting. Overall it's the death of what's been bad and the birth of what will be good for me, at least so far. My eyes may feel heavy and tired, but I can feel my heart beating once again -- I can feel life, and happiness, and purpose again! It's a joy, a real, pure joy, and I'm ever so grateful for it all.<br />A couple weeks ago my friend Dan stopped by my site before heading back to his own -- he had been on a week-long venture to Southern Kyrgyzstan (which sounds pretty nice, esp since it was warm and sunny there while it was snowing here). Anyway, we went out into my village looking for some miscellaneous items (I believe one was an animal cracker-tasting cookie I had found one time, pretty cheap too). Upon entering one store we found one of the most hilarious things I've witnessed in-country -- they were selling stickers. In true Kutaiski (Chinese) fashion, they were very out-of-place and non sequiter, especially with the line on each exclaiming, "We have hopes because we have love. Made in China." Anyway, Dan bought a sheet of stickers that had some sort of teen girl pop group on it, I bought one entitled "Verduras y Hortalizas - 2." My sheet is, if the language is correct and if one can read it, vegetables in Spanish. Spanish. What the heck is it doing in Kyrgyzstan? Just another flop that made its way here, I think. But it's hilarious, so I bought it.<br />Now, what did I do with the stickers, aside from have a good laugh? Well, this week my students handed in some homework. This particular assignment was about what they like/don't like and why. One student wrote "I don't like war because it is useless." Besh! Besh plus! For those that don't know, besh (five, in Kyrgyz) is the equivalent of our A (or, 90-100 grade range). That sentence made my day. You bet I slapped my Lechuga sticker on that homework! Ha! The student muttered a meek "rakmat..." (thank you) and seemed a bit confused/scared, and I'll admit the Spanish has no relevance to class, but man oh man it was awesome. Don't know if I'll get anyone to top that line.<br />--<br />Last night I had a bit of a freak out moment. For Women's Day, March 8th, I decided to buy some flowers and to bake a cake. I snuck the flowers in from my trip to a bigger village that has a bazaar easily enough and will give them to my fam before I leave for Bishkek. The cake was another matter. I had to ask around to find some milk -- here milk isn't sold at the corner store or gas station, rather people have cows and try to sell it. So I told my eje I was going to make a cake and needed some milk, and after a couple days she finally decided to get it. Anyhow, I followed the recipe on the back of the Hershey's Cocoa box that was so graciously sent over, and I think things turned out ok (also made the frosting on said box -- improvised with regular sugar though because the powdered variant is nonexistant here). I must have spent a good 2-3 hours baking these bad boys, super chocolatey, super messy, and, at the moment, I have no idea how they taste. After I was finished baking them it was about 11 at night, and my family tried getting me to eat some. I said no, it's late, if I eat all this sugar I won't be able to sleep. Instead of eating it, I go into my room to get my camera and take a picture of the cakes (the battery had died so I was charging it), but when I go back into the dining room the cakes are missing. I listen and hear every single family member in the other room -- they had taken the cakes in there. My mind had a meltdown, I knew what was going on -- Kyrgyz people, instead of leaving stuff out at the table and eating it there, will instead stuff pockets full of candy and sweets (or whatever else), go into a room - say, this room I'm talking about - and scarf the stuff down as quickly as possible. My heart sank, my mind was angry. Please tell me I didn't just bake these cakes so that they can be demolished in one night. Luckily the power went out soon after, so I think that forestalled subsequent scarfing. But I went to bed with that thought on my mind, texting some friends about it all. I wake up this morning and frantically try finding the cakes. Not in the room from the night before, not in the kitchen. I open the dining room door and see 1/4 of a cake sitting on a dish -- I think "They really ate all that cake??" but upon further investigation there was one fully intact cake sitting on top of the refridgerator. My mind and body let out a big woooosh and all is right -- I'll get to have a piece for myself (see how it is, learn what I can do to make it better next time) and got to take my pictures. Relief!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-92171978669299808052009-02-28T00:25:00.000-08:002009-02-28T00:27:00.536-08:00A New Hope!Yesterday I went out with my PC program manager to potential sites in my rayon. The next group of volunteers arrives in late March, and will be settling in at their sites in June. It was one of my more productive and insightful days here, I must say. It was interesting going to potential homes and schools, asking questions, giving a bit of an interview, and just overall seeing how things start out with site selections. I hope to go back again and see these said sites -- especially since you can't really get an effective assessment from one prerendered visit. But if I can do what I can to help set up a comfortable environment for a newcoming volunteer, then I think I'll have done something worthwhile.<br />In Kyrgyzstan people still celebrate the "Defenders of the Homeland" holiday which started up in 1918 (I believe) with the Soviets. Today it's more of a boy's/man's holiday, but it's still interesting that it continues to be celebrated. It's on the 23rd of February (ugh... classroom habit makes me unable to write February 23rd). Honestly I consider every day, except the 8th of March, to be boy/man holiday here what with how the women are constantly doing a good deal of the work. Anyway, I got to participate in a little show put on by the 11th grade girls -- played a game with another agai (male teacher) where I say an English word, he has to repeat, he says a Russian word, I have to repeat. Was fun! I got a picture frame out of it too.<br />--<br />Random thought for the day: my toothpaste tastes better than the food here. Good incentive for brushing, not so much so for eating.<br />--<br />After talking with my father and getting a letter from my brother, I never realized that my blog was so... read, or anticipated. I always think I just ramble on and spend a lot of time blowing wind, which is one reason why I'm trying to condense my more recent updates. Part of that, I suppose, is because I don't get a whole lot of feedback. Surprised and shocked, that was my reaction. I thought people were busy with their own affairs. Sometimes it's nice being proven wrong.<br />The 23rd has come and gone, the holiday "celebrated," I suppose. My friend Dan came back from his trip to southern KY and needed a place to crash, so he spent the night this past Sunday. We got to celebrate man day together! Well, what there was of it, that is. Turns out it's really just guys sitting around getting gifts from girls. My family gave both Dan and I gifts -- it's actually pretty funny. They got us both towels, and they didn't look at them (entirely) before they bought them. Initially my fam thought it was just palm trees and maybe a beach. But, lo and behold, once unfolded and the entire picture is unveiled, there's a rather sensuous depiction (albeit all in shadow) of a man and a women, both well endowed, in a rather provocative embrace. It's nothing outright naughty, but it's definately something they wouldn't have bought if they had realized what was on the towel. Nevertheless, we had a right good ten minute laughfest over the gift -- I particularly enjoy my quip of "For what purpose?" (in Kyrgyz) when my friend said he'd take the towel with him to the banya.<br />Yesterday I went to a fellow volunteer's camp, the volunteer who lives closest to me. She's holding this camp to educate locals (in this case, all local girls) about health -- particularly HIV/AIDs, STDs, all that kind of stuff. It was interesting going, if for nothing else than a change of pace. It was also good being able to see a volunteer from Naryn who I don't really get to see all that often. It was just fun being able to work with other volunteers, knowing that ideas would be understood, being able to joke around, and laugh at something other than my own stupidity. Also it seems like an effective seminar -- I'm not really all that up-to-date with health knowledge and all that, but the issues covered are becoming increasingly troublesome in Central Asia.<br />Right now I should be at my morning classes, but I didn't go today. In fact, I won't be going to those classes any more. I'm going to stop working with my one counterpart, save myself from some early grey hairs and eye rings, and stop trying to push mountains. It's a liberating feeling; I just hope this doesn't affect me too negatively if at all in other regards, particularly with work. That, and my problem of not being able to get out of bed in the morning will be solved -- all my classes with my other counterpart are in the afternoon.<br />This weekend I'm planning on doing a few things. First I'm heading into the city to help my friend Michael move into an apartment he managed to find. In a way I'm a bit jealous... living with a family is ok, but I dunno, the American in me, particularly after living by myself for the greater part of 2007 and 2008, just wants to be independent and self-reliant. Anyway, I'm also trying to meet up with a student from my village and find her a nice volunteer tutor -- she made it to the national olympiad competition for English (she speaks very well, and has a good knowledge of English) and wants all the help she can get... she studies in the city, though, so I can only help her on weekends. After that, I'm trying to see if I can go to Taraz. Taraz is (from what I've heard) a nice city, comparable to Bishkek, very clean, has stores, businesses, people -- basically a lot going for it. It's in Kazakhstan though, so I have to see if I'm elligible to go. Right now my program manager should be (fingers crossed) finding out if I'm within range to go on weekend travel -- all Talas volunteers within a certain distance from the Kazakh border can take 1 or 2 weekend travel days a month and visit Taraz. The closest volunteer to me can, so I'm hoping I can as well. It's sticky, though -- I'm the farthest away from the border before you get to the city volunteers. We all have visas, it's just a matter of how PC policy works in this regard. If worst comes to worst, I'll have to take an annual leave day to visit, while my friends five minutes away can simply take a weekend day.<br />--<br />So the worst case scenario with Taraz travel happened (worst of the two options, that is) -- my manager said I live 60 kilometers (take that, British kilometre!) away from the border and that's not going to cut it for the 35 km restriction. It's aggrivating, especially seeing the health volunteer program manager willing to go to bat and say the volunteer next door can go, give or take a couple km's. I feel let down... I'm the only volunteer west of Talas city that can't go to Taraz without taking a vacation day. It's also indicative of how my PM doesn't try to help out unless we rake some muck, and unfortunately I'm the volunteer least likely to kick and scream.<br />On another note, I finally dropped the ball and am no longer working mornings with counterpart B. Instead I'll be sticking with my afternoon classes, teaching in tandum with the good counterpart. It's a relief. I feel bad for the kids who have to put up with B's constant yelling and condescending remarks, but having got nixed in favor of a very flawed, printed-in-Moscow British English book, it's a decision I can live with. What I can take from this: be there for the next group of volunteers, willing to work out problematic work situations, give advice, and make sure that they're working only with one person, the official counterpart, at reasonable hours and decent working situations. I could go on about how I wished someone came out to help me in such a manner, like seemingly all the volunteers (save a few misfits like myself and Michael) in the oblast received, but it's just air at this point. Lessons learned, experience gained, time to move on.<br />So it's settled with the classroom. I'm getting a real fix-me-upper -- essentially just an empty room. It has some crummy desks and chairs, and other falling apart things, but not much in the way of anything truly usable. It's a good thing the PC KY Project Design and Management Workshop (PDM) is being held during the second week of March -- my counterpart and I can learn how to write grants to obtain necessary materials, like said desks, a good blackboard, etc. I'm actually looking forward to it. I'm sure it won't be easy, but if I can get it to be a good classroom (probably the best in school, if all works out) then I'll have something tangible to look at as an accomplishment.<br />--<br />I've been feeling down the past day and a half, and it's all because of the Taraz situation. I shouldn't really let it get to me, but I have. To me it feels like another link in a chain of things gone wrong or neglected by the 'erudites' of my wonderful employer. It's set my mood to tempermatic, enough so that I've foregone the trip idea and will simply spend a weekend doing other things. Hopefully one of those will be rest, my mind feels about ready to explode.<br />However, all is not for naught. Today I was showing my host brother pictures from a fortutiously sent 'simple suppers' cookbook and seem to have a green light for making beef stew. That got me into an hour long talk or so in which I fondly recalled my favorites from the States, particularly lasagna (brother asked me if it can be made with ketchup -- blasphemy!!) and seafood - lobster (all-time favorite), chowdah, scallops, shrimp, haddock, sushi... I hate the buggers when they're in water, but when on a plate it's daaaaamdooo (tasty -- Kyrgyz, but less aaa and ooo). If I can find a place to buy milk I think I'll be in business. Also I need to work on a ricotta cheese replacement... I think my 'Eating Well in Kyrgyzstan' cookbook has a recipe.<br />After this week it's ever-so-apparant that I'm in need of a vacation of some sort. I can feel it in my eyes. My friend Michael has been talking about a trip to Turkey (Istanbul) in June, and some other volunteers are talking about different things as well (such as a bus trip to Moscow). I really want to start looking into something because the headaches just seem to compound and I just need something nice. Istanbul would be interesting I think, especially for the (minor) history buff in me. I need to get an account of costs, times, feasibilities, options, and all that. We shall see...Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-24494868789680315362009-02-14T19:55:00.000-08:002009-02-14T19:56:36.920-08:00Turnaround<div>Salutations,</div><div><br /></div><div>I'm feeling quite a bit better this week, especially after the horrendous happenings of last. Yesterday I talked with my school's director and I came away with promise: she'll put a notice up that I'm looking for a Kyrgyz tutor, took note that I'm interested in having a youth club, said that the school should have a copy of Manas and if it doesn't she has one that she'll lend me, and she said that we have free classrooms and will look into getting me one. A big plus! Everything is very early at this point, but just the prospect of something going well is such a turnaround from my past few months here. </div><div><br /></div><div>My host family and one friend of the oldest boy are interested in taking English lessons at home. I'm all for it. There's one trip, though. My host eje was giving me a 5 minute speal yesterday about the friend and how much money the course should be. She lectured me (ha! of all things) about how I can't take money because I'm a volunteer, and amid a torrent of words I'm either not accustomed to or are of a different dialect, I believe she said she would be taking money for said lessons. I was a bit caught up in the flurry of this facade, and couldn't properly reply until realization dawned upon me what the purpose of this talk was about -- a few minutes after the conversation had ended and we both went our ways for the day. Needless to say, her taking money on this account is not correct for several reasons. The only real argument in favor of taking money is that the classes are being held in the house, and that's flimsy. It's not just that I'm a volunteer and this whole scheme defeats the purpose of volunteer work, but I'm doing work so that someone else can get paid not having done or the capabilities of doing said work? How... irritating. The bottom line of money, while true to the real world, is very aggrivating. Once again, the very idea of volunteering has flown over heads and goes unappreciated.</div><div><br /></div><div>Health-wise, things are going ok. My ear is doing better, especially after using a trick with vegetable oil. Still not 100%, but it's better. What's concerning me now is my weight, diet, and exercise routine. My weight has gone from loss to gain from my initial upon arrival to country. This is in part due to the standard diet here of grease, fat, and tons of carbs, packages with their tastes from heaven, and my non-existant exercise schedule. I meant to pick up a stretching dvd while in Bishkek, as PC provided a free cd from the 90s with Cindy Crawford conducting the lessons, but I was beat to that punch. The other day I was helping my host brother clean out a room of 6 month old apples, and saw that we have a barbell and bench, in addition to a pole for pullups and tree stumps for dips. It's not ideal now, particularly since today it's snowing out and this stuff is mostly all outside (save the bench), but come Spring when the weather clears up a bit I'd like to get back into the exercise scene. It's been a while, having not worked out since high school, but I remember most everything and can even help my host brother etc. because he was lifting improperly and in an unhealthy way. </div><div><br /></div><div>--</div><div><br /></div><div>This has been a crazy week. Yesterday I went in to teach classes (my counterpart left me to go to it on my own for a good 20 minutes for each class, naturally) but the schedule was all mixed up. When I went in for my final class, I walked into my 11th G class to find the same dunderheads from my 11th B class sitting among the G's; as I brace myself to teach what would invariably be one of my worst sessions, the zavuch (vice-princ) comes in and informs me that he's conducting a Russian dictation test to the joint class -- my bacon is saved. As I walk out, my counterpart ambles on down from halway across the hall and asks me "Whats up?" Ha, you should have known. </div><div><br /></div><div>Yesterday I also got notice of three (!) packages arriving in town. Since the place is a bit far, and my host eje knows the taxi drivers, I asked her to call one so I could get them yesterday. With a typical "Sure, sure" that never got done, so I put on my 'if you want something done right you have to do it yourself' face today. After my morning clubs, I walked to the store (about 30-40 minutes) that's now handling my packages. When I get there, I'm first told my packages are in the rayon center (not my village), then that they're in the store but I can't take them because the proper person isn't there to take my signature. I got pretty heated at that, especially since the last time I took the packages and came back the next day to give my signature. But I got bolboited and so left empty-handed for the moment, and was told that said person would come at 5 pm. I go on to teach my afternoon clubs, having skipped lunch to (try to) get my packages, and afterwards I go back to the store. I arrive at 5, and talked a bit with some ladies from a different era who were remeniscing about how things were good and products were cheap back in Soviet times. They also were admonishing toward the woman who needed to come in order for me to get my packages ("In my day, if I needed to be somewhere at 5, I'd be there at 3!!") because she didn't show up until just under an hour after 5. When she did show up, it was with a rather large entourage. In one of the more perplexing situations I've been involved in, about 30-40 people packed into this shop thats about half the size of a small gas station store, and watch as they, who had been there a whole of 5 seconds, cut in front of me, who had been waiting for almost an hour. Kyrgyzstan has no sense of line or priority (in that sense) -- a store owner will halt his dealings with someone buying in bulk for quite a bit of money to get the person gawking at eggs to buy one for 7 som. Anyway, I was just dumbfounded by this scenario, and watched in awe as people kept pouring in. This was apparently pay day or something of the sort -- some people were giving this lady money, some people were taking it. I simply swam my way through the crowd to get to my packages -- this was going on in a back room, and I'm a bit irate that they decided to hold my packages in the same room with so many people, it would be so easy to steal one. I sat guarding them and watching the procession. After about half an hour, the crowd had diminished to about 10 or 15 people, and the eje finally called my name. I gave her my ID, signed a few slips of paper, and walked back home. What should have taken all of 2 minutes took almost two hours, not counting the time it took for me to travel. </div><div><br /></div><div>The packages, though, are worth it. Getting a package is so wonderful, I can't truly encapsulate what it means in mere words. In this batch, I got lots of food and candy -- much appreciated, especially since dinner (and I mean American dinner, not British dinner) tonight was a bowl of plain boiled elbow macaroni. As soon as I saw the bag with Hershey's Kisses in it, I thought I'd share them with my family. First I'd try one myself though; if I give my family 50 pieces of candy, and I only eat 1, they'll eat 49, so I literally have to divide how much I want and how much I want to give. I saw one with a strange wrapper and a green piece of paper sticking out of it. I thought it odd, I don't remember such Kisses. I put it in my mouth, and oh sweet lord! I never knew Kisses were made so good. Cordial Cherry Hershey Kisses -- it was so good, I immediately rescinded my offer of sharing most of the candy with my host family. Instead, I spent a couple minutes sorting through the almond and cherry variants, and opted to give them some of the former. Oi vey, my mind was blown with this particular deliciousness. </div><div><br /></div><div>American dinner vs British dinner. This is something I've been fighting with ever since I arrived at site. My counterparts both teach (or attempt to, in most cases) British English. This aggrivates me, immensely. It's not that I don't like British English and all, but they absolutely refuse to acknowledge that I don't use British English. I don't have a rest, my weekend isn't a holiday, I'm not going to the pillar box to post a letter, dinner is in the evening and isn't lunch, and for the love of Pete it's not a superior version of English. They constantly bug me for stuff I find somewhat ludicrous -- do you have information/pictures on/of Australia/New Zealand/Great Britain? Never of America, mind you. But oh, I absolutely must have pictures of aforementioned countries -- I'm giving a presentation on this country and you (the American) should have all these things! Oi. Time to implement the 2nd goal of Peace Corps -- teaching the host country about America. I don't consider myself to be super patriotic (or even mildly so) by any means, but my purpose here seems somewhat voided if all they're ever after is Brit English and non-American English speaking countries (of which they focus on 3). And I know next to nothing about Australia and *particularly* New Zealand. But I did recently finish the first season of Flight of the Concords -- love it!</div><div><br /></div><div>--</div><div><br /></div><div>Wow. Just wow. Things are actually, finally, for the first time in a long long time, starting to look good! I just got through with my first ever actual lesson planning with my good counterpart! Just the act alone has given me spirit I haven't had at site... ever, really. My other counterpart, while seemingly on the same page as always (particularly after a bout on Monday, where she refused my help snappishly and took to the book's guidance instead -- felt like quitting our partnership at that point), has seemingly been less uptight these past few days. My Kyrgyz language classes have started. The director of my school told me there's a classroom waiting for me (that makes me want to dance and frolic and just burst with glee!); the holdup is something I have no clue about, but it's there, I can taste it! Only thing left on my immediate goal list is to land my paws on a copy of Manas, that slippery epic...</div><div><br /></div><div>With the classroom prospect, I have to start looking into things to equip it with. My first thought is "MAPS!" -- particularly world, US, CT, the UK, maybe Australia, New Zealand... but man oh man how I want maps. And posters! Bright big posters to put up around the classroom: posters for grammar, posters for vocabulary, posters for anything having to do with English! And books! Oh ho now I can finally ask for books and try starting up an English library; books for little kids, books for teenagers, books on grammar, books for fun, books books books! And not the crappy made-in-Russia English books, ohhhhhh no, good, real, correct, actual English books! And a good chalkboard (whiteboard doesn't seem so feasible with a lack of dry-erase markers out here, although it is quite tempting...), new desks, chairs, bookcases.... Ohhhhh I'm so excited for the classroom!! If anyone can help out with equipping it, whether through information or donation, it would be greatly appreciated! I have to look into things a bit more, but woweee!</div><div><br /></div><div>The other day I decided to bust into my Hickory Farms food item gift box -- I wasn't having a good day. Stunned. Completely stunned. I hadn't realized it until I dug into the food. I had forgotten what flavor tastes like. It's sad, but true. When I tasted the hickory smoked cheddar cheese, I wanted to weep. When I put the cheese on a cracked wheat cracker, my tongue lept out of my mouth in joy. When I put sweet hot mustard on said cracker with cheese, my mind was completely and utterly blown. Amazing, simply amazing. I knew at that moment that I truly had began to conform to blandness. I must savor, cherish, and conserve -- taste is too scarce a bliss here to be wontonly flourished about and devoured. </div><div><br /></div><div>--</div><div><br /></div><div>I have here a picture of myself with my recently won PC award. Surprise surprise at what it is, it's the same ol' thing I've been winning since high school. Nevertheless, I've taken the opportunity to take another ridiculous picture of myself-- this time with my favorite homework quote! One of our (volunteer's) favorite exchanges is happenings from the classroom. This one was a hit at the time, and has a special place with me. Enjoy!</div><div><br /></div><div>Today is Valentine's Day, my most hated holiday of all. I'm taking the opportunity to escape to the city tonight and avoid anything that may happen in the village. I've already got preliminary threats of receiving hearts and cards, and that - the threat of said action - is quite enough. Time to flee this preposterous holiday!</div><div><br /></div><div>After making pizza again, this time with my host sister, I realize that it's not too difficult. That is, if you have a professional with dough like most female Kyrgyz seem to be. Unfortunately, this time around, despite two pizzas being made, I only got to eat one slice before heading off to my afternoon classes. When I came back all the pizza was gone. That makes me feel not so bad about hording food -- I can't give anything to my fam that will last more than a couple hours at most. Subsequently my counterpart was kind of grilling me why I hadn't made her pizza yet. Aside from the obvious, I had a good fallback with the "it barely makes it out of the kitchen, let alone the house" line which is both true and convenient for this particular circumstance. </div><div><br /></div><div>Well, I think that's all for this update. Stay in touch and be safe everyone!</div><div><br /></div><div>Peace,</div><div>Chris</div>Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-13653763958320201962009-01-30T19:43:00.000-08:002009-01-30T19:44:15.857-08:00Two of two(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.)<br />18/1/09<br />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.<br />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!<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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).<br />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.<br />--<br />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.<br />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!<br />--<br />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.<br />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...<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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...<br />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).<br />--<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />--<br />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.<br />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...<br />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.<br />--<br />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.<br />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.<br />--<br />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.<br />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.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-20907746382390232322009-01-30T19:42:00.000-08:002009-01-30T19:43:45.598-08:00One of twoToday 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!<br />--<br />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.<br />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!<br />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...<br />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.<br />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!<br />--<br />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.<br />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).<br />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.<br />--<br />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...<br />--<br />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.<br />--<br />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.<br />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!<br />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...Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-43762128401096948532008-12-26T23:29:00.000-08:002008-12-26T23:36:41.222-08:00Tastes of homeSo I have here a wish list. Right now I'm fine with clothes - only thing I can think of at the moment is hats, and that's more along the line of a Boston baseball cap 'cause I don't have one right now.<br /><br />I have to say everything that was sent in the way of food was absolutely great! The method of taking stuff out of boxes and putting it in something else to save space is a great idea, just be sure the items are secure so they don't explode all over the box (ala oatmeal). But anything and everything that has been sent over so far has been greatly appreciated, and I am eternally in your debt for giving me a piece of happiness from home here in Kyrgyzstan!<br /><br />Now, this is the stuff I dream of. It's all a wish list, so take it as that and not a demands list, please!<br /><br />Thank you all so much once again, and I hope everyone has a wonderful and Happy Holiday Season!<br /><br />Peace,<br />Chris<br /><br />Wish List:<br /><br />Candy:<br />Reese's (pb cups, pieces, really anything reese's, it's all amazing)<br />Jelly Beans<br />StarBursts<br />Skittles<br />Three Musketeers<br />Swedish Fish<br />Most anything chocolate<br />Most anything anything<br />If you send it<br />It will be eaten<br /><br />Food:<br />Peanut Butter<br />Dried fruit (pineapple, mixes, banana, cranberry)<br />Trail mix type foods<br />Granola bars<br />Anything bar form<br />Drink mixes<br />Things in pretty plastic jars (my fam loves the jars)<br />Anything that has been previously sent<br />Pringles (cause a bag will just... ugh)<br />Anything you can think of that will last a trip of 2-6 weeks!<br /><br />Everything I've received so far has been superb!<br /><br />Sauces, Spices etc:<br />BBQ Sauce<br />Pasta Sauce (or paste even, the stuff here is quite subpar and tomatoes won't be in season for a while)<br />Nutmeg (cmon, how can a CTer not have it?)<br />Breakfast Syrup<br />Rosemary<br />Thyme<br />Honey Mustard<br />Anything that can be used as marinade or sauce or pretty much anything.<br />And more vanilla<br /><br />What I don't need:<br />Ramen noodles<br />GlovesChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-59355090688385817332008-12-26T23:26:00.000-08:002008-12-26T23:28:53.863-08:00Christmas!So I'm in a bit of a predicament. On the eve of Christmas (not quite, it's the 23rd at the moment) I've learned that not only do I have to go be part of a commission for the local scholastic olympic competition, but I also have to cover classes for my counterpart tomorrow. The issue: I was planning on doing all sorts of stuff for Christmas. First things first though, in terms of what's going on. Last week and the week prior I was told about the olymiads, and when I went in the day it was supposed to be (the 20th) I was told the date was magically moved. Not only was it moved, it was MOVED. To the 25th, to be precise. That ruined my holly jolly spirit quite a bit because now instead of spending time with my host family on Christmas I'll be running this nonsense competition. Don't get me wrong -- I want to be involved with the competition, particularly since its an opportunity for Kyrgyz students to advance a bit further than the norm. But, in talking with other volunteers, I've learned the following: the legitimacy of this competition is... questionable... volunteers have to do a ton of work by themselves, I was told no other volunteer could come and help me because I'm the only volunteer in my rayon (and they seem to want to flaunt that to no end), and, lets face it, it's freakin Christmas day!! That, and it's supposed to go on for a ridiculous amount of time, from 8 am to 7-8 pm.<br /><br />The second issue is that I was planning to do stuff prior to this aggrivating olympic thing. I went to Talas and bought 2 kilos of apples, 2 kilos of flour, a bunch of sugar and butter, and was planning on making a pie and some cookies at least. If I had time I would try my hand at chicken (perhaps fried since I have a ton of flour), potatoes, and corn -- not the typical Christmas fare, but my request for the traditional family holiday food wasn't granted. Not that that matters much at this point in any case because I'm now left with all the classes my counterpart said I would have off in order to cover them, by myself. Wonderful! So I have next to no time for any sort of food preparation, all day at this event so no time for gifts, and one rather large (and growing) headache.<br /><br />Things aren't all terrible though. Today I held club (instead of the standard Friday - considering moving club to Tuesday permanantly from now on 'cause it might be easier) and got to show off all sorts of Christmas stuff to my students. My santa hat, stocking, mini Christmas tree, jingling bells, cards (which are rare here, I believe) with vivid pictures on them. I showed off the new vocabulary and explained how Christmas in America works. Then I wrote out some lyrics to Jingle Bells, played it on my computer, then sang it to the class (uh, yeah... I think I made some kids sick from that, but I only have the orchestra versions of most Xmas songs, so no words). Afterwards I got to tell them that Santa came to me early, cause he knows there's an American living in Kyrgyzstan here in my village, and give them some wonderful presents from the US and KY. Felt pretty good, first time I've had a decent smile on my face for a good part of the day. After club with my 7th formers, some of the girls came up to me and gave me a card (very impressed, even if it's in Russian) and a kalpak (very dignified and honorable gift in Kyrgyzstan - can't believe I have 3 already). I thanked them, and proceeded to fight back the tears as I choked up a bit. Had to get ready for the next club and all. <br /><br />Yesterday I helped put up the Christmas tree. Reactions afterword tell me most people here get something small and plasticy for personal trees, maybe about 2-3 feet high. However, my family has (had?) a tree in the side-yard type section of our home, so my 15 yr old brother and I went out to determine how best to tackle getting said giant into said house. I just kind of figured cut it in half and it'll be good -- the tree had to have been about 10 feet tall. So we grab the 'ladder' (really just a bunch of metal... uh... spokes? stuck inbetween two pieces of wood) and saw, and he climbs up to saw the thing in half. Now there's half a tree sitting in the yard, it's upper half gone. Yikes! But at least the part cut off looks good. Of course we had to clean it of all the leaves and snow and gunk, but afterwards it worked out ok... up until the point when we got it inside, and figured that this family has nothing in the way of a stand. So we prop 'ol toppy up with a chair and go about the house looking for things that will work -- after quite a bit of time, we end up finding an old metal grate/crate type thing that one could imagine being an old-style milk carrier (when people got milk delivered to their door every day) but had empty vodka bottles in it, and an old can to prop the trunk in and act as a water holder (what?!? you water the tree?? -- my family in response to me). Add some string to the tree and grate/crate, and viola -- Christmas tree! The decorations for it are rather... interesting. There are about 10 ornaments for this 5 foot tree, one string of lights, and tons of what I would consider Mardi Gras boas, something my (US) brother might have worn ages ago (or still might?). Only the front side is decorated, the tree being stuffed in a corner purposefully. But hey, it works! And we have a tree.<br /><br />I'm sitting here now, flabergasted and indecisive. What to do, what to do. I have all the things necessary to celebrate Christmas -- everything but the time. Urg @ celebrating New Years and New Years alone...<br /><br />--<br /><br />I decided to not show up to classes on Wednesday. First, my counterpart told me I could and should do so, primarily because she would be giving the (fairly pointless) quarterly test to the students. However, that fell through as mentioned earlier. But I realized from my contract that I can not (as in, it's possible for me to not do so... why didn't I write this out better in the first place... ugh and I'm an English teacher... I speek the good) hold a class if my counterpart isn't present, which helps me out a ton since I don't have the books, inclination to drone out a dictation/copy the text test, or a clue as to how the lesson plans should be followed. So yeah, in short, I skipped the stuff that would have been dumped on me if I just let things slide like I've been doing for a long time now.<br /><br />Instead, I spent Wednesday preparing and baking. I of course went to my club, that's natural, and presented my Christmas lesson to everyone. I also met up with my good counterpart and distributed gifts to my second graders -- it was a surprise for everyone, particularly since after not going to classes my spirits were lifted to a point where I refused to not wear my newly acquired Santa hat everywhere for the next two days. Around noon I prepared a pie crust from scratch -- had to wait to do much else because of no electricity and time, so after club I came back to do some serious business. The crust had plenty of time to cool, so I got to work peeling, coring, and slicing about 3, 3 1/2 pounds of apples. Once that was done, I got to work with my flour and sugar and butter and cinammon, and an hour or so later, voila! My first pie ever, and it was all made from scratch (take that ready made crust!). The only thing is it was an apple pie, but I didn't make a second round of dough to put on top, so it was an open faced pie. Still delicious though! And very American. I also made some chocolate chip cookies -- those are easy as cake (hmm... now there's an idea... maybe after I have pie down pat) to me now. Christmas must be, doggonnit!<br /><br />Wednesday night, after a dinner of monte (dumplings, meat n potatoes n onions steamed inside pasta -- a more-than-ordinary dish for the occassion), I decided to step out into the living room and watch the tree for a while -- something I would do back home from time to time because it gives me a sense of peace and happiness. I took some paper and scissors out with me as well. After about 20 minutes or so, the kids of the fam came in and they had the stockings that my eje made, so we hung those up. I then showed them (sorta) how to cut out 'ornaments' for the tree using the paper -- soon I was bringing out the ribbon/string stuff from one of my packages to use as hanging material, markers, pencils, etc. It was pretty darn fun! Most everyone made at least something, and the decorating brought some more life to the scene. Ho ha it's Christmas time! After a while, everyone settled down a little bit, and at 12 the power turned off (per usual). However, it took the kids a rather long time to go to sleep, so I spent 12-1 preparing the gifts etc. with names and all that good stuff. At 1 I ventured out and became Santa for the first time -- it was certainly not easy, especially since the kids are in the next room with the door open. But I managed, got all the gifts out, had to dump the contents of the goody bags into stockings 'cause they wouldn't fit (sorry, the goody bags were excellent, but the stocking trumps it here), put the oranges I bought in the stockings as well, evaded my eje coming in at about 1:40, put out the note from Santa, ate the cookies left out, and in general just left a nice spread of gifts around the tree and in the stockings. Not easy, very tiring, but as I would come to learn oh so worth it!<br /><br />On Christmas morning we all woke up and got to see the gifts. I sensed something of a subtle shock -- unfortunately we all woke up around 7 or so, and we had to leave for this olympic competition at 8, so I told the family we should open the presents at night (as, you know, we should open presents together on Christmas!). Christmas is just another day in Kyrgyzstan, so everyone went to school/work. My two older host sisters and myself were going to the olympiad, so it would be a long long day. After arriving at school, and trying to figure out what the heck is going on because A)nothing was explained to me, at all and B)no counterpart, we get in a marshrutka to head to the rayon center. When I say we, I mean *WE*. There had to have been 30 people stuffed into this marshrutka -- people sitting on laps, standing on one another, crooning necks to fit -- the thing was a human sardine can, and we had to travel for at least 20 or 30 minutes.<br /><br />When we got off at the school the olympiads was taking place at, there was one thought that crossed my mind -- I feel like Mr. Stallone in Rocky IV after he gets off the plane in Russia. The sky was a cold grey, things were quite snowy, and the school seemed a bit large and daunting. I knew then and there that this would be no picnic and I was in for a long, rough day. After figuring out where to go, I convene with a bunch of other teachers. Keep in mind, I have my Santa hat on throughout this whole thing, so people are calling out "Santa Claus" to me all day -- not a bad thing, per se, just a note. After the convening breaks the English teachers get together to go over what we'll be doing for the day. In the middle of it all I get a call from home -- ugh, bad timing, I wanted to break away from this work to talk but needed to stay on my toes and on top of things, lest I be completely excluded and the typical Kyrgyz schenanigans win the day. So the template is set - grammar, reading, listening, and interview portions of everything for the students. Also note, the other teachers are speaking in Kyrgyz 99% of the time, and this is an English competition.<br /><br />I was delegated to throughout the day. First I was set with the task of reading a poorly copied text, half the words missing, coming up with 5 "easy" questions for it, then writing it all out on the blackboard. Of course when I start writing, the Kyrgyz teachers chide me and say I need to write bigger, with quite a tone of mock, amusement, and superiority. So whatever, I write bigger. Then it's time for the questions. Now, students in Kyrgyzstan always always always memorize to the letter certain things, so if you throw them something other than what's on track with that they're like fish out of water. My questions befuddled so many of them, and I gave multiple choice to the questions that weren't yes/no. And there were only five questions. After that I had to conduct the listening section. I read a text, they listen, try to understand, and answer five questions about the text (all of which comes from a book). I read this text very slowly three times, and most students didn't even answer the question. My thought is that they don't understand me - they understand the incorrect and garbled English of their teachers, and English coming from anyone else is nonsense to them (even a different Kyrgyz teacher). So that's done, and then I move on to the interview portion. Or at least, that's what I should have been doing. Instead these five ladies who are speaking more Kyrgyz than English throw me all the tests to correct. Whatever, I though -- I know English and can grade them faster than they can. By the time I'm done with grading, most of the interviews are done -- I only got to ask questions to one girl, so I only got to test actual knowledge instead of what was memorized with one student from the 9th form.<br /><br />After our lunch of only-god-knows-what (looked like prison gruel), we get back into the mix with the interviews etc. First I have to reinterview some 9th formers because there's a "split decision" -- I do that and pick the best, wasn't easy but I made the right decision. Then I'm charged with interviewing the 10th formers, the 'superiors' get to interview the 11th formers. Most students knew their memorized lines, but nothing deviating from that. One or two kids knew were a bit more advanced, and I gave them better scores. The most irritating thing, though, is that one of the 'elite 5' was sitting in with me, and she would literally laugh and jest when kids didn't know anything, sometimes righ in their face -- one kid had some nasty words for us when the interview was over. I wanted to punch her in the face; she was so unprofessional and demeaning, I have no idea how she got onto this commission. But, I finish with the 10th formers and pick the best. Afterwards I go back to the other 'elites' and get to sit in and ask questions about 1/4 way through an interview. This kid knows his stuff, I think, as we're talking about more advanced topics like ecological and youth problems (albeit these were set topics so the kids had prepared texts to memorize). But I got to ask him some questions, what he wanted to be after school (a judge), how he could help with problems as a judge, etc. He could speak and speak well, and just seemed overall intelligent. Most of the other students didn't meet the 'elite' criteria so they were banished, although I found ways to rephrase the questions in order to get at least some response instead of instantly dismissing those who hadn't pored over something premade. We then got to a girl who knew English fairly well -- she was slower in answering questions and I had to rephrase a couple times, but she knew her stuff. It essentially came down to this girl and the boy from earlier -- the 'elite' let me pick. It wasn't easy, but in my opinion the boy performed better, so I chose him #1.<br /><br />After all the interviews were done, the 'elite' gathered together and quarrelled for about an hour or an hour and a half about who did what, who was good, who was bad, etc. This is where all the tomfoolery went on. They all had a scoring system, but they didn't take that into regard. "Oh, the student who got the highest score isn't good... we should pick someone else," or "This is my student, he/she knows English very well, they should be first." I noticed that they decided to throw out my listening scored and do some nonsense scores of their own -- as we all know, Kyrgyz people speak English better than, say, the American who comes here to teach English. Now, I was supposed to have the last word on who would win in the competition (and I did for the 11th form), but for the 10th and 9th form they decided to do their own thing. So, for the 10th form they picked some girl who couldn't answer any of my questions (and even struggled with the "Kyrgyz interpretation") instead of a girl who could speak quite well, didn't have to go off of memorized texts, etc. all because the girl who got 1st was one of the 'elite's' students. That's why I needed to be on my toes, but as I started to bring it up they were already signing things and writing in the books. Ugh!! KYRGYZSTAN!!! Why must things be so damn corrupt here.<br /><br />So we're finished at about 5:30, and start handing out the awards etc. First the 9th formers, then the 10th formers. The 11th formers are called out, and given their prizes. The girl who got 2nd place literally broke down into tears, no joke. After everyone left, the 'elite' told me, "You have to stay here, so sit and listen to the mother of the girl who got 2nd place," and then they all booked it. Thanks fellow commissioners, you only screwed me the entire day so why should I expect different here?? So I have this angry mom trying to chew me out, saying it's not right her girl got 2nd place. I tell her she knows English very well, but the boy knew it better. No no, that cannot be, you have to retest them, you have to come back here tomorrow and do it. At this point I begin thinking in my Santa hat-bedecked head, "It's Christmas day, I've been dealing with these 5 bats, countless kids who don't know English, corruption, work deferment, I started at 8 am and it's 6 pm right now, I f'n put off a call from home to do this crap, I have a feast waiting at home, presents to have the family open, and it's f'n Christmas Day!!!!" So I got a bit heated and told her no, I'm not retesting, not tomorrow, not Monday, not ever. It doesn't matter if your kid got good scores from other volunteers, the other kid knew better. Bam, I leave. My school's marshrutka is waiting outside, cram-packed with teachers and students again. I wait in it for about 20 minutes, then one of my host family's family members (who happens to be a director or something-or-other in the rayon) comes by and offers a ride in his car to two other teachers and myself. Bliss!<br /><br />I get home and plov, one of my favorite Kyrgyz foods, is prepared. A table is set up near the Christmas tree, the presents are still all unopened, all sorts of goodies are set up. First I bring out my computer and start playing some Christmas music on it -- thank you Pat n Nat for that! Then I bring out my pie and cookies -- the table is being set, I cut a slice of pie for everyone, everyone has their bowl of plov, coca-cola is served. But first, it's time to take pictures! Oh, and we have to get sparklers out to commemorate the holiday! So everyone first lights their sparkler (over the table, no less), I start snapping pics, then I get to do my own sparkler, then we get cheers pics with the coke, and it's time to dig in! The taste of sheep never really bothered me, and I couldn't but help thinking that as I bit into the gigantic piece they gave me with my plov. After the deliciousness of plov, we got to dig into the pie. Man. Oh. Man. Pie makes me so incrediblely happy. Now I know I can make it, and make it all by scratch. I think the fam sort of enjoyed it, but they aren't too big on cinammon here -- and of course I made a cinammon apple pie. But wow. About 3 pounds of apples in this thing -- it was heaven!<br /><br />After dinner, it was time to open up presents. I think this night was the best night I've had here, if not from all my time in Kyrgyzstan, then here in Talas, at least. Plenty of pictures taken, lots of bright smiling faces, the wows, the happiness. It made me feel at home. I got smiles in pictures, for cripes sake! I think everyone liked their presents. It was spectacular, as they were all crying out "Rakmat (thank you) Santa Claus!" and trying everything out. Truly a sight to behold, and an event of joy. I thanked them afterwards for celebrating with me our (Americadan Kishi - American people) big holiday. Afterward, as I was walking out to the bathroom, I got a call from home. Splendid! How fortunate that I needed to use the restroom because my cell phone doesn't work all that well inside. A little bittersweet because I miss everyone back home, but I don't think I've laughed this much since leaving the states. Unfortunately we reached the 30 minute mark and the call cut out. Then a small call later from the pops -- a quick Merry Christmas and get back inside before you freeze to death. I went back inside, opened my presents quietly, marveled at how many gloves I now have (4 pair, 4 pair), choked up a bit at a little ornament that was sent, and fell asleep with the phone by my side just in case (and secretly hoping) I'd get a call.<br /><br />Oh what a Christmas. The bad and the good, it was all here.<br /><br />--<br /><br />The morning after Christmas. I'm soundly resting in that state of not fully sleeping yet not awake either when the ring of my cell brings me to reality - the word 'home' is lighted up. Finally, after almost half a year here in Kyrgyzstan, I get a call from home. It was good being able to talk again, especially since the unfortunate olympiad instance intruded upon what should have been my first true call. But things are what they are, and it was highly enjoyable being able to talk again -- I had the full family spectrum between last night and this morning. Glee!<br /><br />I'm tired, but this tiredness is quite different from the exhaustion of the past few weeks. It's the tiredness of good work. My spirits are high! Whether it's the wonderful gifts that were sent, the effort of one person trying to show a school and family (if not a village/rayon) the Christmas Holiday, or just the magic of the season, I feel great! I've been laughing and smiling more this past week than I have in a long long time. I feel like I can accomplish anything now! Ha ha.<br /><br />Today I got two visits from my 7th formers. The different sections (7th A, 7th B, 7th V etc.) apparently decided to get me presents from the class. I got another kalpak (collection is at 4 now!), some more cards signed by individual students, President For Men cologne, and this pouch-type thing that has stiched into it "Криске Умуттон" (something like 'from hope to Chris' if translated literally -- and it's pronounced Chriskey uhmuhttuen, roughly). I <3 my students, and not in the creepy teacher/professor who picks on certain students in class sort of way.<br /><br />Tomorrow the volunteers are getting together in Talas to do a bit of Christmas celebrating. Predicament again: my school is holding it's New Years celebration/dance-a-thon/singing event/whatever you can call it, tomorrow as well. I really want to go to both. Perhaps I'll go to half or most of the school event then head into Talas a bit later. Guess you'll all find out sooner than I will have, 'cause you're all just reading this! Ha. Ok, time for me to stop.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-82734631909671888122008-12-20T20:14:00.001-08:002008-12-20T20:14:46.217-08:00Thanksgiving and Beyond!Thanksgiving was, to put it mildly, absolutely incredible! While I was trudging through Naryn and Chuy to make it back to Talas, the other volunteers of the oblast banded together to put together a most impressive feast. I chipped in with a salad (re: American salad, not any 'ol thing thrown together visavi Kyrgyz salad), which was decent considering I had a whole 1-2 hours to do what I needed (like go to the bazaar and find lettuce, dressing ingredients, etc). But man oh man. This Thanksgiving, despite being celebrated on the Saturday following actual Thanksgiving, was incredible.<br />First, let me just say, Thanksgiving is Talas' big holiday. It's always celebrated, sort of in a full-blown manner, and we invite people from other oblasts to attend. Nobody from other oblasts came, but still. This Thanksgiving was the first time all the volunteers in the oblast got together to do anything, which is a feat in and of itself. Now, enough about that gibberty-gab. On to the feast!<br />Wow. Just wow. There was so much. My salad of course. But everyone made something and brought it: the best deviled eggs I've ever tasted, mashed potatoes, corn with some sort of magical sauce mixed in, real stuffing, gravy, biscuits, cornbread, mac n' cheese. One volunteer made a batch of potato salad and a batch of carrots; he got too carried away with the vinegar, so those were ruined... he also made some weird carrot ball thing, wasn't a fan of that either. But, the most wonderful things of all had to be the following:<br />Turkey. Not just one turkey, but two turkies. One volunteer bought a couple and fed them for a couple weeks (we all chipped in to buy 'em), and the day before T-day the turkies were slaughtered and stuffed. We spent a good deal of time baking the turkies, praying for the electricity to still be working -- which it did! Also, we had 5 pumpkin pies. Five pumpkin pies! These were quite possibly the best pumpkin pies I've ever eaten. Now here I must say - everything was made from scratch. There's no such thing as a quick-mix or pre-made something-or-other here in Kyrgyzstan, so everything was handmade. This made everything mean quite a lot, and I think even despite not having much in the way of American food for quite a while, it was simply an exquisitely scrumptious and delicious meal, even by non-KY food standards! This Thanksgiving was the first time in-country that my stomach hurt, and hurt real bad, from something other than being sick. I don't think I've ever, ever been that full in my life. My friends sleeping at the apartment with me lamented this -- I was apparantly snoring, which doesn't happen all that often any more (I think...).<br />After coming back from Thanksgiving, thoroughly broke from my trip to Naryn et al, I started work once again. The epidemic has cleared! Well, I must say that it felt good getting back into the thick of things. In particular, I think things with my one counterpart who said she didn't want to work with me are turning out to be alright. We've determined that we should divide our classes so that one teacher will observe and assist while the other runs classes - it works out decently because we teach each form (i.e. 11th A, 11th B, 10th A, 10th B etc) two times each every week. So far so good - we're just back to the normal problem of students not doing work and not caring about class. Fun!<br />I started up my club this week. I think I chose a bad time to start - there was some sort of "ball" going on where the 11th formers were dancing and singing and... oh who knows. I scheduled things so that on my one true free day, Friday, I'll give two sessions of club in the morning to the 7th formers, and two sessions in the afternoon - one to the 10th formers, one to the 11th formers. So I show up at 9, the time I scheduled for my first group of 7th formers. The classroom I was told I could use (re: it's free!) wasn't free -- some 8th formers have class in there. That, and none of my students show up. So at 9:20 I go back home - no point in sticking around. At 9:50 there are some students calling throughout the house for my host eje - not that they couldn't call for me, so they just yell out her name for a full minute straight. How come you're not at school, they inquire. How about because you all probably came at 9:30 or 9:40 for my club that was supposed to start at 9. That's Kyrgyz, to the dot.<br />I scheduled things to have an hour interval between club sessions - give myself some time to breathe, particularly since all my classes throughout the week are nonstop. But no. Nobody wants to come in at 9. We want to come in at 11. No, that's when I'm giving my second morning session. Fine fine, 10 it is. Ugh. And this is supposed to be my free day, too. I go in, things start up around 10:20 for my first session, and everything goes fine. Second session as well, though the classroom situation is highly aggrivating (hey, uh, students, do you know of any free classrooms around here?). I show up for my first afternoon session at 1 -- two problems. First, the 11th formers are in the classroom I'm using for afternoon sessions doing some intense dance tryout thing for their ball. Second, no students show up. Splendid! At least I got the 7th formers in, albeit with a very crummy first session time-change. I'm going to work on making advertisements or something...<br />Despite the club, however, I've been feeling pretty good this week. I think having snacks and food from America help out so much -- being able to supplement my potato and oil diet makes me feel better physically, and having foods I just simply enjoy is doing wonders for me emotionally. My counterparts are turning out to be pretty good -- actually had a meaningful talk with one (not the one who didn't like me two weeks ago) about her family and all sorts of stuff. Was good, in the sense that we got to talk in such a manner - most of the topics weren't so good in and of themselves though. One thing I'm concerned about, however, is my work load -- toward the end of the week I've been feeling a bit nauseous and light-headed, particularly when in class. It's most difficult on days where I have classes straight through the day with no real breaks. I also feel tired quite often. I do feel good emotionally, though. I'll give things another week to see how they go -- I'm working about 7 hours more than I should, and it will be more when I add a full 6 more hours with club.<br />Tomorrow I'm heading into Talas to see my friend in Talas. He's an older volunteer, in his 50's, and he's teaching at the university. I feel bad because the typical romp of the volunteer majority doesn't suit him - he's not alone in that regard, though. He had a good point during Thanksgiving - if we were anything but volunteers, none of us would really associate with him. Still, he's a good person, has valuable experience, and I enjoy spending time with him. He's also pretty damn funny, and one of the few people (re: Americans) I think I've connected with here. He may be a New Yorker, but we're alike in many regards. Oh geez... is Kyrgyzstan breaking down my prejudice against New York?!?<br />--<br />Ow. My head hasn't felt this bad in a long time. I'm retracting my statement of working 7 hours more than I should and replacing it with 14 -- previously I was only regarding actual physical time spent in the classroom, not time spent in the school overall. That, plus schedule changes, and... Yeah, teaching 32 hours in a week is not something I should be doing, but it pretty much is. I feel like I'm being taken advantage of. For example, today both of my counterparts came to school, and at the 4th morning lesson they told me they were going shopping/preparing for some German language thing. Basically, I was ditched and left to teach nonstop classes for the rest of the day, which went on until 6:15 pm (they left me at 10:30 am). I'm feeling so exhausted, and days like this don't help - particularly since I don't even get a break to eat during the day. It leaves me with no time to pursue learning Kyrgyz further (I still don't have a tutor, thank you very much schedule...), look for secondary project opportunities, or even simply recouperate. I need to have a good talk. No classroom to call my own (which is turning into a big problem, particularly as my club is starting to kick off), teaching so many classes on my own, teaching so many hours I shouldn't be, teaching classes I shouldn't be (the young 'uns), teaching on days I shouldn't be (Saturdays)... It's a good thing they don't pay me -- for them, not for me.<br />The other day I was in a fairly amusing position. After going guesting for one of the Muslim holiday celibrations, I was approached by what I would describe as a fairly inebriated fellow. He kept beckoning, wanting me to go with him to a "garage" to "drink tea." Realizing the comedy of such a statement, as well as the circumstances, I just said no, I'm going home. He didn't understand, apparently, and proceeded to lock his arm into mine (ala father-daughter wedding style) in an attempt to take me with him. I sort of know the guy, and know nothing bad would really happen, so I just took a step then stopped with him. Afterward some of the local kids came up to us -- they provided translation services. I gave them Kyrgyz, and they gave this guy... Kyrgyz. The guy "Harashaw'ed" (ok'ed) it, then went on his merry way.<br />Recently I went through most of The Office, from season 1-4. Great show. I just have to say, in episode 4 of season 4, at about 14:20 or so minutes into it, there's a decent idea of what I go through here here. However, I must say, that particular "item" is quite a bit higher quality than what I'm used to. <br />--<br />16/12/08<br />Last week was rough. Very rough. I haven't felt this exhausted since pulling my college all-nighters (for work, not play), my 4 a.m. trip to New York for my PC interview, after running Save Darfur Week, etc. The deal is, I teach thirty-two hours in a week when I should only be teaching eighteen. It certainly doesn't help when both my counterparts come up to me on our busiest day and tell me they're going out shopping then to some party/presentation (it's all the same here pretty much) well before even half the lessons of the day are over -- 7 classes to teach on my own, just what I needed. During that time I had to deal with the crazy kung-fu 2nd graders again (spent well over half the class time trying to pick kids up off from one another -- they were smacking the bejesus out of each other...) and my 7th graders weren't much better. Some kids in my 7th "v" form decided to start throwing pens at me -- they picked the wrong day, as I proceeded to kick them out of class then call the zavuch (vice-principal) on them. Stuff like this just makes me not want to get up in the morning.<br />Whoever designed spoons is evil. This is for two reasons: 1) Kyrgyz people utilize the spoon as their primary eating utensil, which makes it ridiculous sometimes to eat (ala long pasta -- and sometimes I feel like a damn artist when we eat with forks, esp. with knives, as they all blunder through it) and 2) It makes peanut butter go sooooo fast. I swore I would only eat, maybe, a few spoonfuls, but "just one more..." later and the entire jar is gone. Granted, it was after my terrible terrible day, but man. The peanut butter, ambrosia mix, peanut butter crackers, pineapple bars... all gone. My stock is down to a couple Nature Valley bars, some grape jelly, and half a bag of dried pineapple. Deliciousness cannot be contained in Kyrgyzstan. What's also amazing is this: I've seen them before, I know about them, but damn if I don't feel like neanderthal man discovering fire for the first time every time I open one of the drink packets and pour it into my distilled water. It's such a relief after chai (tea) 24/7, with the only other real relief being coffee or vodka. I'll sometimes get juice but it's typically expensive, and while it tastes good most of the time it's not real juice. Most people here simply use it as chaser.<br />Thank you one and all who sent me food. It's truly something that lifts my spirits, keeps me healthy of mind and body, and just simply tastes good!<br />Last week my not-so-nice counterpart decided to tell me that she had signed me up, or something involving a whole lot of not me, for the rayon olympiad competitions. Now, it's not that I don't want to do it (I do), it's just that I'd like to, you know, be involved in maybe a discussion or two with the people involved instead of being dictated to that I'll be doing something (and most likely 2nd, 3rd, 4th hand at that). It aggrivates me because I'm just told "Yup, you're going to be 'insert title here' and will go in on Saturday and you get to help our students," which is basically telling me I'm doing something about which I have no idea. I was told yesterday that I get to come in today at 10 and help our students with English. Forget the fact that I have no idea with what, it just looks like I can help with English ('cause, you know, that's not an extremely broad topic or anything). Arg! I can't stand having no say in what the heck I'm doing, and being told I'll do something yet there are absolutely no parameters within which to work. I think this counterpart is doing this a lot with me -- she told me not to show up at teachers' meetings because 'I wouldn't understand and would get bored,' takes things I should hand in to the director, freaks out at very innocuous and nonchalant comments (like, 'Can my friend come see the olympiad competition?' as her eyes pop out of her head and she goes on about me being the only volunteer in the rayon...), and just, I dunno, very skittery and suspect.<br />--<br />I just got back from school, where I was supposed to meet with the students about their olympiad experience. I was told to meet them at 10:00. I get to the teacher's lounge at 9:55. At 10:35, still no sign of the students, and I'm wondering what kind of crock my counterpart put me up to because all the students are in class. So I leave, go to the store, and buy some cell phone units. Now I'm back home, on a day I would have gone to the nearby town (bigger than a village I would say) to get some work done (they have a fax machine, and a bazaar) but didn't because I was told about this ridiculous olympiad thing. Fun!<br />I'm starting to disect my schedule in order to make it more manageable. I think I'm simply going to cut all my Saturday classes -- finally give myself the day off for good. I might also cut my Wednesday classes out - that will give me free mornings, with club in the afternoon. If I can find a language tutor I might be able to work it in during Tuesday/Wednesday. My schedule would look like this: Monday morning and afternoon classes, Tuesday free, Wednesday afternoon club, Thursday morning and afternoon classes, Friday morning and afternoon club. Seeing it like that, it makes me think I'm cutting quite a bit out. But the schedule here is really strange -- every class is packed in with as little breathing room as possible, so it would be rather full days. Hmm. I'll look things over again.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-51185162983248057642008-12-20T20:12:00.000-08:002008-12-20T20:14:05.572-08:00Of Wolves and SwansTwo weeks of no school, due to an ambiguous epidemic. A plan to travel to Naryn, one of the most out-there places in Kyrgyzstan, is approved by my program manager. Some extra som found, left from my training. A trip is formed!<br />I first called my good buddy in Naryn - I'd like to come down and see him, help him teach his classes for a week, catch up on things, and in general do something other than sit around for a couple weeks. He tells his host family about it, but he makes a mistake - he tells them that my school is closed due to an epidemic where people are getting sick. They refuse to allow me to come out to see him and stay for a few days... they fear I'll bring sickness with me, they don't know me, and in general just want to avoid anything to do with me. So I call out to my other training friend who lives about 40 minutes away - she says it'll work, to come on down. And so, I have a plan to go to Naryn!<br />Naryn is considered to be the "most Kyrgyz" part of Kyrgyzstan because it has the most primary Kyrgyz-speakers living in it, as well as the most ethnically-Kyrgyz population in country. It's also the most mountainous region of Kyrgyzstan. The people living there are, for the most part, relatively poor. Fruits and vegetables are unheard of in Naryn - it's supposedly the "meat" oblast of Kyrgyzstan, having many herds. However, since meat is expensive, most people just eat bread and little else. It has many expanses of nothingness - barren fields before one hits the mountains - proving to be very difficult yet very beautiful land. It's an oblast PC claims to send "the toughest" volunteers because of such situations.<br />I started my trip on Sunday, November 23rd, quite early in the morning. The previous day I had two perogatives in Talas City: use the internet, and get a haircut. The former didn't work because there was no electricity in the city, and I just barely managed to get a haircut before the shop was bombarded by customers. Somewhat discontent with the happenings, particularly not being able to inform people back home that I would be out for Thanksgiving, I set out for Bishkek at 8 a.m. in an attempt to catch the 1 p.m. bus to Ak Tala. The ride was bad from Talas - I got a bad price from the driver (bargaining didn't work...), his door kept on popping open throughout the ride - which made it quite cold on the mountain passes - and he decided to take a "shortcut" detour around Bishkek once we got to the entrance of the city. This resulted in us going about 20 minutes out of our way, getting stopped by the police, and getting to the voksal (bus/taxi/transport station) later than anticipated. I had missed the bus.<br />When we got to the voksal, I walked about 10 feet before being bombarded by someone wanting to know where I'm going - undoubtedly one of the typical roughians looking to get a good deal for a driver. I told him where I was going, and he laughed. "No taxis go there," he said. "You'll have to wait for the 7 p.m. bus that goes to Baetov." Fortunately, I persisted and kept on saying no, there's a way. A lady named Sonun came up to the conversation and inquired about the situation - she knows the area, knows of the volunteers working out there, knows where the taxis are. So I follow her to the typical taxi spots, and watch as she goes to work, arguing with the drivers. Lo and behold, there's one taxi with a cardboard sign in the window - Naryn City, Ak-Tala. It's practically a miracle... no taxis go to that part of Naryn. But I managed to find it, with the help of this extraordinary woman, and about half an hour later - when we get three other members to ride with us - we embark toward the most remote part of Kyrgyzstan that Peace Corps serves in.<br />The ride was fairly uneventful, albeit very long. I first met and introduced myself to the second passenger (myself being the first) - Marat. He's three years older than me, doing something with the military, generally a decent-mannered fellow. The driver, Adilet, is also very cordial and accomodating. These two are fairly interested in this particular American going to Ak Tala. It's not a tourist spot, it's difficult to get to, and it's their home. I tell them I'm going to see and help my friends out there, a bit about myself and my work, etc. Overall, two very nice people from this encounter. The other two passengers were insignificant to the trip for me - one eje who works at the university in Naryn City, and a teacher at the village I'm going to whose "prominence" is only outshined by his girth. Along the way we stopped at a cafe - having little money to spare, I settle for a coffee, despite Marat insisting I eat. Generously, he pays the 15 or so som that I owe toward the bill, and I give him a "Chong Rakmat - big thanks" for that.<br />The road to Naryn is very different from the road to Talas. There are mountains, but the road goes along the bases of them moreso than climbing into them (which is what the road to Talas does). It's also not a very good road, but it manages somehow -- a consistent theme with Kyrgyzstan. The way was beautiful! When we got to Naryn City, we dropped off the eje at her house and got a flat tire for that. After replacing the tire, we headed out toward Ak Tala, but first the taxi stopped at a store to pick up some "refreshments" and bread. The driver and I don't drink the beer, opting for some Fanta instead.<br />About 5 minutes outside the city, we stop on the side of the road to enjoy our little "Chai Eech" (drink tea - the standard call for food) and replenish ourselves a bit. I take some bread and Fanta, as do the other members of the taxi. While we're taking this moment to re-energize, something big walks up to the taxi. It goes right up to the front of the car, into the headlight spectrum, and the driver calls out, with much venom, "Karushkur!" It's a black wolf, undoubtedly in search of food. Kyrgyz people hate them because wolves hunt sheep etc. whereas I love wolves, taking them as my favorite animal due to their beauty, mystique, and overall nature. It was amazing, seeing for the first time a real wild wolf in-person. It almost makes up for me missing out on safari prospects in not going to PC Africa.<br />We head on out - it being late and all - and make our way down the road. About 40 minutes outside the city we see my friend Mike's village - it's pointed out to me, and I see about one light in this tiny village of about 800 people. A little ways past this village, we seemingly randomnly stop, turn around, and face the opposite destination direction. The headlights are shone out onto a lake on the left side of the road. On the lake, there are two swans, swimming gracefully and elegantly. How this company knew they were out there at this time, I couldn't comprehend. But it was majestic - I hadn't seen swans in a long time, and they were seemingly dancing out on the water. After a moment of amazement, we turned around in the right direction and headed out to my friend's village.<br />We arrive fairly late at this village. The ride from Talas to Bishkek is about 4-5 hours; the ride from Bishkek to this particular town is about 8-9 hours. It's roughly 9 or 10 at night when I get to my friend's home - getting a decent send-off from Marat and Adilet (not before getting the driver's number, of course - a taxi driver who can go to this town is valuable indeed). My friend, Micah (though she goes by Maia quite often because Micah means underwear in Kyrgyz), comes out to greet me. Her family is quite befuddled - they were told two hours previously that I would be coming, and they didn't know I'm male. So their reception was fairly unbemused and non-standard to the typical Kyrgyz. However, they also weren't overly mad or pushy. I give them an offering of bananas - something they cannot get in Naryn - and thank them for having me. They seem wholely underwhelmed and suspicious, but things didn't go bad (at least while I was there, I hope things aren't bad for my friend now because of my visit). Still, it's not "proper" for a female to have a non-family male guest over, though we tend to take liberty with that being American and all.<br />It was great seeing Micah again. She, Mike and I all lived together in the same training village, and grew to be friends during that time. Now we're separated by a 12-14 hour ride through mountains and a couple oblasts. Micah and I immediately got into happenings and goings-on, despite my tiredness from the long ride. The differences become apparently stark from the get-go -- meals consist mostly of bread and tea, the mannerisms of the family, the seemingly lethargic burden born upon the back of my friend apparent in her gait. However, there's an optimism and excitement pervading the entire thing - there's a reason this particular volunteer was sent to this, one of the most difficult sites. It's good to catch up, and good to see one another - she had only had two volunteers over at her place since arriving at site, and they're both from the oblast.<br />I spent a good deal of my time in Naryn helping teach classes with Micah. She is the 3rd or 4th volunteer serving in her village, so she has, as I would say, an amazing set up at her school. First, she has her own classroom, which is something I would kill for. Second, she has all sorts of goodies up around the room - grammar posters, alphabet charts, a stockpile of books, two big and real (re: not something akin to a piece of wood) chalkboards, quality desks... The instant I walked into that room I was jealous.<br />When I went Micah was in the middle of a transition - she was teaching most of her classes on her own because her primary counterpart was a retired woman who was supposed to teach 4 hours in a week but only came in for maybe 2. So we had some good ol' fashioned volunteer/American lessons to give, particularly since we're generally on the same page. However, her program manager came during my visit, and the solo game for her changed. Man, I wish I had this particular program manager (she doesn't work with Talas) because she completely kicked ass and got Micah's requests fulfilled - it was quite possibly one of the most awesome things I've seen in Kyrgyzstan. So Micah is now team-teaching with a really nice English teacher. The remainder of my time there was attempting to portray how team-teaching should go - hope it worked, since my experiences weren't so hot up to that point.<br />The rest my time at Micah's village was spent just hanging around with her. We played a lot of cards, spent some time being goofy with her host brother and cousin (on Tuesday the 'rents booked it out of the village for Bishkek, which was... odd...), and overall having an enjoyable time. One day we went out to the outlying hills to get a view of the area: gorgeous. Simply gorgeous. We also decided to make some food -- no-bake cookies (excellent), butter cookies with chopped up chocolate bars in them, steamed carrots, macaroni n' cheese, garlic baked chicken. Felt good to get some more cooking in, particularly since it all tasted great.<br />On Thursday we went to Mike's village. It took us about 1 1/2 hours to find a ride to the village -- the 1 o'clock marshrutka/bus that was supposed to come apparently didn't, and taxis wanted pretty ridiculous prices. But we finally caught a blue 'shrutka - a very chaotic ride - and made it to Mike's village.<br />My first impression of Mike's village: this is what I envisioned when I thought of Peace Corps. It's a village of 800 or so people, very small with nothing but farmers/herders living in it. Mike literally greets every person on the road he meets - he knows many of them by name. All the roads are dirt, the houses are sparse, and there's really nothing to the village. If one goes to the outlying hills, they can capture the entire village in one glance - it's that small.<br />Mike is my good friend. We were buddies back in our training village, often hanging out, going out for walks, shooting the breeze, etc. He seemed somewhat thrilled to see us. His situation appears to be a lot rougher than what the rest of us are encountering - he pretty much just gets bread, which doesn't fly for him (particularly breakfast - we were once late to a PC meeting because he just had to find some bananas for breakfast). His host mother tends to clean things like bowls and spoons by licking them. There's a newborn and a 1 year old in his house, in addition to an ancient grandmother. Sometimes they'll eat right outside the door to his room - it's difficult for him to get out sometimes. There have been disputes with the family where he's been yelled at, fairly violently. And, remember, these people feared I would get them all sick and refused to allow me to stay there. Also, there have been a few women who were bride-kidnapped since Mike arrived at his site, and he's had to attend one or two of the parties for said occassion. Yeah, my buddy is out on the frontier. He deserves the oranges I got for him.<br />It really was great getting to see Mike and Micah again. I wish I had more time to spend down there - perhaps in the summer I can go visit. I'd like to spend some more time hanging out with Mike as well - we only got to spend one night together, though it was good (got to experience the wonderful Trader Joe's flattened banana - so good...). The trip down was well worth it, particularly since there seems to be some tension and inter-oblast rivalrly, particularly between Talas and Naryn.<br />Leaving Naryn, things were seemingly fairly good - both rides, to Bishkek and Talas were 30% cheaper - but they were also fairly bad. On the way to Bishkek, the driver was seemingly trying to pull the 'drive on the shoulder, which is a lot bumpier and slower' trick for a good portion of the ride. We pulled the usual 'stop a bunch of times, for whatever reason' that seems to happen 100% of the time in a mostly-Kyrgyz ride. When we got to Bishkek, we experienced an honest-to-goodness traffic jam, something I haven't experienced since leaving CT. My poor Naryn-bred driver had no idea what to do under the circumstances - it took us a good hour to get through the city to the voksal (bus/taxi/marshrutka station). Once I got out of the taxi, I was bombarded by workers wanting to know where I was going - in less than 5 minutes I had cheap transportation set up to go to Talas.<br />Now, this marshrutka ride started promisingly, despite the fact that I was leaving very late at 4 p.m. It was cheap ('bout 150 som cheaper than a taxi, 200 som cheaper than it took to get to Bishkek from Talas in the first place), had lots of women (re: non-drunks) in it, and was fairly comfortable when we left. Halfway through Bishkek, however, we decided to pick up some guy's girlfriend, and the row of 3 I was sitting in was smushed into seating 4. The girlfriend, for whatever reason, decided to sit by me. About 30 minutes away from the mountain pass, as I'm starting to nod off from exhaustion, the 'shrutka suddenly realizes that it's uyat (shameful) for this young lady in her 20s and myself to be sitting next to one another, so one Kyrgyz-shuffle later I'm sitting at the window seat (thankfully) with an old eje next to me. About 10 minutes after the switch, this eje takes the liberty of deciding to use me as a pillow for the entirety of the ride. Attempts to shift away resulted in her manuevering into a more comfortable position and securing more of my person as her personal bed. Utterly... ugh... So we clear the first mountain pass, and stop at one of the regular intervals between B-kek and Talas. At first I thought it would just be a bathroom break, but 5 minutes after the young-uns (excluding me) left the 'shrutka the really old ejes decide to go out for a chai eech (tea) break. I'm still stuck in the 'shrutka with the eje sleeping on me - good thing I didn't have to go.<br />An hour later, as we finally depart from this stop, I'm starting to get irritated. The eje will not budge in her persistence of utilizing the American human pillow. We clear the second mountain pass fine, and are making decent time. But, old eje finally wakes up - her home is coming up. So we make a detour for a good few miles off the main road to deliver said eje to her doorstep - I'm thankful she's off of me, but miffed we've gone out of our way. We get back on the main road, and perhaps half an hour later, one of the most perplexing things I've seen occurred. We veer off to the left side of the road, and the driver pulls up to a set of 4 or 5 other 'shrutkas parked there. We stop, the driver gets out - we drove right into some sort of marshrutka party. People from all the 'shrutkas get out and form a ring (reminded me of the Simpson ring when Homer got all the Simpsons together to prove that they're not all losers) - they're all buddy buddy having a good time. The really old ejes from my 'shrutka are pulled out into the fray. The rest of us are left in the machine, wondering when the heck we're going to leave. I'm getting downright mad at this point - it's about 9 p.m. and still an hour away from Talas. Some different driver hops in the 'shrutka and takes off - finally, we're getting places, I thought. About 20 minutes later, a woman sitting next to me complains that her stop was missed - we turn around. At this point my mind feels like flopping out of my head - I think to myself, "What the hell. We're going in the completely wrong direction now! Arg, this is one of the worst marshrutka rides I've been on..." and proceed to text several people to such an effect. We drop the lady off about 10 minutes down the road, blissfully turn around again, and make it straight to Talas. Thankfully nothing else happened, and I was dropped off at the bazaar without consequence.<br />Upon arriving in Talas, my first thought was food: I hadn't eaten anything since before leaving Naryn in the morning. I go to every store in Talas that's open - nobody has bread. Arg!! At least the yogurt is good, albeit expensive. So I make my purchase, step in one of the water ditches on my way to a volunteer's apartment, and finally make it to sanctuary. Oh my, oh my. The ride was terrible, but the experience in Naryn was great. Next time, though, I think I'll stop in Chuy for a day or so.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-74088814672562408662008-11-29T20:29:00.000-08:002008-11-29T20:31:00.648-08:00Dance of the MoonAfter what I would consider my best (as in, most enjoyable) week in Kyrgyzstan, I'm feeling refreshed and prepared, if a bit exhausted from my excursion to Bishkek. I think a marked change is definate - nothing could be more apparant than my nose doing much, much better during meals today (hot soup and tea notwithstanding!). Also, I think an apology is in order for my previous postings - all volunteers go through hard times, and I've been going through some difficult ones lately. I've been using my writings to vent and express myself, and I feel I have done so in an inappropriate manner. Though it's difficult to remain optimistic at times, the role of being a purvayor of culture and bridge of meaningful relationships is mine to fulfill, and I've done so poorly through my recent actions. I'll try not to let pessimism grasp ahold of me again, and be more conscious of what I'm saying - even if it's just to a relatively small and private crowd. And, just for the record, always take my harsh/joking/cynical comments with a grain of salt -- I take out my frustration quite often through writing, and I'm less inclined to write the good things that happen (cause, hey, it's a good time! no need to complain, right?). So slap me silly sometimes, spasibo!<br />My time in Bishkek was nothing short of great. I first went to my training host family and spent my Friday night with them - it was amazing seeing them again (my little brother seems a foot taller) and giving them an update. Most volunteers don't see their original host families after they move to permanant site - I had a great family and wanted to see them again soon, I missed them. My host mom knitted me a pair of socks (a bit small but they fit, and are super warm) and gave me a scarf - I didn't want to leave them again. But it was a great time; talking to them made me feel like so much less of an idiot than what I do at permanant site because we're more comfortable with one another and I can just speak more freely and easily with them. Their mini-feast of monty (steamed dumplings, usually with potato, onion, meat etc. inside) was decent - I was more intrigued by the medoly of fruits (persimmons, oranges, apples, and I brought some bananas for them) and the cucumbers, and salads they had. Overall it was very good visiting them again - I wish I had more time, but time was restrained and Bishkek called.<br />I left my host family at around 9 a.m. to spend the day in Bishkek. First things first we all went to PC headquarters - I got in some free internet time there, getting Obama's victory speech. A bunch of volunteers came in and we chatted it up for a while before embarking on a trip to the Osh bazaar (odd that the Osh - an entire oblast in Kyrgyzstan - bazaar is in Bishkek, but whatever) and subsequently to lunch. I spent most of this trip with a volunteer I sort of like - unfortunately, though, she had to leave early. We went to a place called Metro for lunch. I almost cried when I entered the place - it's set up like your standard sports bar/American restaurant, with menues in English, amazing bathrooms, and, best of all, real American food. One of the K-15's (group that's been here a year already) was already there eating a bacon cheeseburger - if I wasn't with the other volunteer, I would have sat mesmerized by the glorious site of this cheeseburger and fries for at least as long as the K-15 was eating it. I ordered a burger of my own (vegetarianism has gone by the wayside on my excursion out here...), she ordered a pizza. I almost did the same thing for the pizza as I did the previous bacon cheeseburger. Let me tell you, it was pure heaven - real ground beef, real cheese, lettuce (oh my I haven't even seen lettuce since Philadelphia, it's all cabbage here), french fries, real American ketchup (they have ketchup here but it's not not not our ketchup), and cole slaw. I never ate cole slaw in America - and honestly, the first thing I thought when I saw it was salad because toss anything together in such a fashion here in KY and it's called salad - but man oh man, I ate that too. It was the most blissful moment I've had in country, eating this delicious piece of artwork and home, all the while talking to said volunteer.<br />After lunch we went to the Beta Stores. Beta Stores is basically a kitchen appliance/grocery store, with a cafe on the second floor and a third floor as well (not sure what it is). I went there and bought everything I could remember I needed/wanted - I had left my wish list in another pocket. On the list was - pie dish (I got something that should work, it's a bit deep though), olive oil, parmesan cheese (wow expensive, but it's shoprite brand!), vegetable oil; I also picked up a muffin/cupcake tray (small but workable, 6 slots in it) and some peanut butter. Oh my the peanut butter. I haven't tasted peanut butter in over four months now - it was an experience that transcended the hamburger. Peanut butter is quite possibly the greatest invention of mankind. It's so delicious, and creamy, and oh... if only they had this food outside of just this one store in all of Kyrgyzstan... Anyway, I also bought a pastry for the other volunteer - I wouldn't have time to go back to the apartment we had rented out for the night to get my birthday gift from Talas to her, and she had so kindly given me one of the Asian pears she bought at the Osh Bazaar. We said our goodbyes here as she had a 2 hour trip ahead of her to get back to her village. A bit sad, but I greatly enjoyed the time.<br />The rest of the day was miserable weather-wise, so we pretty much just headed back to the apartments at this point. I didn't have the time or wherewithall to commence my intended gift-buying trip, so I had to beg a couple Chuy volunteers to help with the buying and sending of them to America. Lots of volunteers trickled in over the course of this late afternoon/early evening - it was a bit difficult establishing dinner plans. But eventually, at around 7 p.m. or so, I got enough people, mostly sober, to go out and grab a bite. We went to an Italian place called Cyclone (it's Kyrgyzstan, don't ask) where the menues were, again, in English. Most of the group ordered pasta of some variant; I, being fed pasta almost every single day (which is a norm in Talas), optioned for pizza - it's no Pepe's, but oh my, it was almost, almost as good as the hamburger experience. I went for a straight up cheese & sauce pizza; my good buddy from Naryn got a chicken, onion & mushroom pizza. We traded a slice for a slice - his was good, but I'm glad I got the pizza I did because it tasted much more like true pizza (primarily because mine had sauce). We ended up just crashing at the chill (i.e. sober) apartment and watching movies for the rest of the night. In the morning we got up and went to a place called Fatboy's (pretty much all these restaurants are ex-pat, at least in patronage) for breakfast; I got french toast, which was nothing like actual french toast (pretty much dry toast with a small bit of egg cooked into it - no cinnamon, no syrup, no big fluffy piece of toast, no nothing to go on it), an order of hash browns (excellent!), and a hot chocolate (since I drink coffee about 100x more than I ever did in the States, even if it's NesCafe instant coffee 99% of the time). We then had to leave for Talas - I had to say goodbye to my Naryn buddy since we probably won't see each other again until January for a week of PC training.<br />Leaving Bishkek was probably the worst marshrutka ride I've been on, which is saying something, but I'm not too upset about it. The driver and everything was fine, it's just that we have to go through two mountain passes (or go through Kazakhstan, which is it's own set of trouble) to get through to Talas or Bishkek. The rain from Saturday afternoon turned to snow Saturday night, and we all awoke to a snowy Bishkek on Sunday. If there was snow on the ground in Chuy Valley, imagine what it's like in the mountains. Our trip was about 100-200 som (i.e. a lot) more expensive than usual, and we later understood why. Usually people travel with their snow-chains for the tires of their vehicles; not so today. We hit massive traffic on both mountain passes - trucks are the primary cause of such problems, primarily in that they take up massive amounts of space and once they get stuck or sideways it takes ages to get around them or move them. One-way traffic in these congested areas + the lack of driving rules = big mess. What should have been a 4-5 hour drive ended up being 8-9. The topics of conversation in the 'shrutka were interesting as well - lets just say I'm a bit glad I don't spend all my time with some of these volunteers. So we're stuck in the mountains, where our cell phones don't work at all, and it's getting late. However, and I must say this, the view was absolutely stunning. Lots of snow = low clouds, and that combined with well-covered mountainsides, plus the mostly-clear sun (particularly the setting sun) gave the sensation of ascending and descending from the heavens. A site not soon to be forgotten, and truly uncapturable through photography (though I did try).<br /> By the time we get off the second mountain, it's already turning dark, and it's a good 1 1/2 to 2 hours to Talas City (and from there another 40 minutes to my village), so the prospect of returning to site died with the setting sun at this point. At about 8 or 9 p.m. we get to Talas, buy some pasta (yay! haven't had that to eat in a while...), and crash at one of the city-dweller's apartments. It's an alright night, but I wish I had gone back to my site and my bed. We watched a terrible movie (something with Adam Sandler acting as this Israeli hair cutter/counter terrorist - another aweful movie from an aweful actor), got bummed out of food (2 batches of food made, and half of each batch went to one volunteer who raced in to get it before everyone else - there were 6 people eating... guess who I'm glad I don't spend all my time with), and just slept. I've been sleeping on floors a lot, and this night I had my first dream while doing so - it's a bit scary, hope I'm not getting too used to it. In the morning we get up and it's decided by mr. wonderful volunteer that we'll go to a cafe then to internet and then back to site - wonderful, I think, as I have class starting in an hour but would prefer not to get jipped on a taxi ride thus must go with volunteers so we can get a better all-together price. So I'm dragged along, get some kasha (rice boiled with milk and served with a small bit of butter - actually one of my favorite foods here), and at 11 or so we make it to the taxis and get back to site. I'm in time to give my afternoon classes, at least - not like I'm tired or anything. But it was actually a bit of a relief teaching - I was in American mode for so long. My second counterpart is in Bishkek so I taught all my classes by myself, which is fine by me because I get to actually do stuff (what with knowing what my own lesson plan is) rather than just sitting, watching as kids get reprimanded for not doing work they don't even have instructions for in the first place.<br />After all this, though, I'm beat. A week of break ends with me fairly exhausted, but in high spirits. My fuel tank is empty, but my optimism tank has been filled. Hurray for tomorrow, a Tuesday, a day of no English classes. Rest, and lesson planning. Huzzah, I haven't felt this good in a long time. I'll definately hold onto my Bishkek experience for a while - be it time with volunteer(s), or a burger I'll place along with cinnamon buns in my dreams. Things are looking up!<br />--<br />It's time to exert some authority and bring about some cultural awareness. Everyone seems to know now that Obama won the presidential election. Aside from being young, the first thing people here notice is that Obama is African American. However, they don't have that word here. Instead, they have the N word. So I have students blurting out the word to me in class, and my counterpart saying it to me as well. With my students (since I taught class on my own) I simply said not to say the word - my counterpart, on the other hand, is a bit trickier. I told her it's a terrible word and never to say it, she's trying to tell me that outside America it isn't a bad word (true to a degree, but still). It's going to be a dicey situation, but I'm going to remain firm in the stance that people here should not say the word. It's aggrivating because they're claiming the word as part of their language, when it's really a derivative from Latin. Time for a lesson in history/culture and use Kyrgyz examples of words that shouldn't be spoken so casually. I could try Russian words, but that's practically another language in and of itself (something ridiculous like 1200 swear words in Russian).<br />Snow snow snow. It's been snowing here, and just yesterday it started sticking. Since I'm not a volunteer from Texas or California, I'm really not enamored with it at all. Snow just kind of exists to be a big old pain. Yes it's beautiful, and fun can be had in it. But it's also cold. And wet. And a pain to clean. And hard to walk in. And blinding in the sun. And... I think you get the point. I'm not excited in the least at the prospect of dealing with snow, particularly since who knows when winter will be over. Wonderful, snow in November. Warm clothes, where are you?!?<br />--<br />Today I got to sweep the driveway! Ok, so I helped, and it was a bit pathetic having my 8 year old brother butting in, preventing me from sweeping all of my area (particularly since he just attacks things, not really sweeps them - half the time he just picks stuff up with his hands), but still. I got to do something! Afterwards I busted out my dry-erase board (much thanks) and showed my brother and sister the English alphabet, and we drew some pictures. Good times.<br />"Hey Chris (re: Kreese), we're neighbors, so my daughter is in the club right?" No, your daughter is in the club because she took the test. A nation of favors and handouts aggrivates me sometimes.<br />I just ate my second cinnamon caramel pecan chewy breakfast oat bar (and no, I didn't have to look at the package - this is what happens when you start dreaming of cinnamon buns and hamburgers). Oh my, I don't think anything has tasted this good in the existence of mankind. Compared with my plate of potatoes this afternoon, it's an explosion of flavor and goodness. Kyrgyz food, thy name is blandness. If only one breakfast bar could fill me up... Oh well, at least the food here is, for the most part, filling. And I must say, the bread here kicks America's bread's butt. Veggies and fruits are real good here too, some better some worse, some equal. If only I got more of them!! Curse you winter...<br />--<br />I've dubbed Thursday as my quitting day. Here's why: I have every single period of classes filled. What this means: from 8 in the morning until 6 in the evening, no breaks, no intermission, classes all the way through. Good thing Six Flags prepared my bladder for such cases. Today classes lasted so long that we couldn't see the blackboards because the room was so dark (svet jok - no electricity - strikes again!). Add in that I feel so helplessly useless when my counterpart runs the show (then, when she's at a loss for something to do, turns to me to pull a miracle from... well... you know where), leaving me to do a whole lot of nothing with a lesson plan whose contents I have no indication of what's within, and the day is just pure excruciation. <br />Thank goodness for peanut butter!<br />--<br />Ebb and flow, waxing and waning. That seems to be the nature of things here. For every good day, there's a bad. Yesterday was a pretty shocking day, and not in a good way.<br />As I've said before about my counterparts, it's very difficult to work together. This is for several reasons: primarily they're young females and it's both in their mentality and in the culture that they cannot meet with me outside of the classroom to work on lessons, due to "bad thoughts," female duties in the home, and perception of actions. Also among the issues is the fact that they have books, which they exclusively teach from (and, consequently, feel that I should be teaching from as well -- in my opinion these books stink, reeking of poor quality, uninteresting material, and generally work that the students don't get or care about), which I don't own and which the students don't own. With this one counterpart in particular, there are some attitude issues as well, primarily in regard to how things must be controlled, and that about every time I communicate with her she pleads the 5th, or rather, claims to not understand what I say (and when she does, she doesn't, say, tell it to the class like I request). It's highly frustrating, and I can't work very well with these circumstances. For most classes I walk in, sit down, and (just like the students) learn for the first time what's going on from the presentation itself -- I usually help with pronounciation and reading, but for actual substance, not a whole lot. I essentially walk blindly into the classroom every day, which is proving to be the big struggle of team-teaching.<br />The major issue yesterday was, after following through with several classes, that my one counterpart told me she didn't want to work with me any more. This hurts. A lot. Since then I've done everything from consult friends to talking to my father, and I've done a lot of searching within myself. For the moment I've determined that my purpose here was not to come and teach on my own, or even to shirk this counterpart. This is a problem, a big problem, and it must be seen through. There are many overriding characteristics to the issue at hand: lack of and poor communication on both ends, cultural differences, attitude differences, gender differences, work ethic differences, priority differences... in general, a whole sort of differences loaded onto this issue of team-teaching. It's made me question why I'm here and what I'm doing, particularly since someone I'm supposed to be working with doesn't want to do so. I can't take over her job, she needs the money. I also don't think I can just start up my own classes; the schedule seems fairly in-line and I've already determined what I have about purpose, to a degree. I asked her if she wished that I left - she said no, which is also a question of sincerity or the typical Kyrgyz indirectness. This is no easy moment, and the coming weeks are very critical. My program manager will be visiting me on Wednesday or Thursday, so this issue will be brought up with my superiors. But it's amazing how quickly I feel obsolete, worthless, and in general just like I'm wasting time. I hope it doesn't remain and this problem can be resolved.<br />--<br />Ebb and flow once again. So today is Tuesday the 18th (still the 17th for you all). Yesterday was pretty good. The day started off with me getting two packages and a letter from Grampy. Very nice! Now I have warm clothes and high spirits. I go to school and give my own classes all day - my troublesome counterpart sat in for part of my first lesson, but didn't do much else. All's well with that though, she was much less belligerant. My new schedule only gives me two morning classes on Monday, but I still have the same afternoon schedule. Five classes, going until 6:10 p.m. My other counterpart isn't in from Bishkek yet, I believe, so I taught all the classes on my own. Things went well, despite me not expecting to teach on my own -- utilized my crayon-drawings of colors (not colours this time, ha!) and fruits. I even taught my second graders without any hassle! No trouble at all, all on my own! It was amazing.<br />There was, however, an interesting turn of events yesterday. When I came to school the front door was locked, which is very odd. I later found out from my counterpart that there's an "epidemic" at the school - note the use of the word epidemic, which is quite severe - apparantly someone or some people had gotten sick. It was described to me as people turning yellow and "these things, not the heart, not the stomach..." "The lungs?" I say, "I don't know..." "The things you breathe with?" "Yes, there are problems with those." So I'm told teachers get to go in to school on Wednesday to clean it (I imagine it's something to keep people on the clock for pay) but everyone is saying "Kaineecool!" which is break/vacation in Kyrgyz. But I'm utterly confused today because the students all went to school, and I don't have Tuesday classes regardless. Oi vei.<br />Last Saturday I had my first foray into the baking world. Chocolate chip cookies by scratch (cause the local dukon - shop - just sold it's last batch of cookie dough...), utilizing my newly received and prized possession - vanilla! All the other ingredients (aside from brown sugar - they don't have it here, so I substituded it with a mixture of honey and white sugar) were Kyrgyz bought. Everything was decent-good, though the butter that was bought for me was of the lower grade -- the cookies could have been much better with the other butter. But, all's said and done, I managed to make the cookie dough on my own and get an account of how long the baking mechanism (best way to describe it -- it's this rusty box with coils in it, and requires a shift from the top to bottom halfway through baking) requires, since they don't utilize temperature measurements here. They turned out pretty good! I took pictures for you doubters. Onward to bigger and better things - pies, cupcakes, breads, American food (whatever that is... perhaps pizza, fried chicken), anything I can try. It working makes me happy. Maybe now I can become apprentice to one of my sisters and learn the ways of Kyrgyz cooking.<br />Anyone who knows me knows I tend to be cynical and sarcastic quite often. I feel I've been very much the former in regard to my new host family. It's difficult, particularly since I had such a good experience with my training family and I'm the first volunteer here (both for the village and family). But I think things are starting to get better. In talking with other volunteers, especially, I've come to realize that my situation here is actually quite good -- I'm given plenty of privacy (albeit with not-so-private window curtains), the food - despite complaining all the time - isn't bad and I usually get something decent for dinner (as opposed to 3 meals of besh barmak per day, re: other volunteers), I have a banya, a water pump in the front yard (many, many volunteers have to walk to, say, a river or pump down the street), and in general just a normal, non-crazy family. It's taking transition, that's all. Things were wierd at first and will continue to be wierd up until close of service for me, but it's getting more comfortable every day. It's as strange for me as it is for the family -- hopefully things like sharing chocolate chip cookies with them will help make it less so. We've started having good, meaningful conversations, so all's going slowly but surely. And, just for the record, always take my harsh/joking/cynical comments with a grain of salt -- I take out my frustration quite often through writing, and I'm less inclined to write the good things that happen (cause, hey, it's a good time! no need to complain, right?). So slap me silly sometimes, spasibo!<br />--<br />It turns out the epidemic will actually cancel school for a long time, it wasn't just a mishap or miscommunication. Two weeks of no school. Two weeks of no work for me. Interesting... Perhaps I'll take this time to travel, look around for project ideas, get a grip on things, etc. Two weeks though, that's a long time -- in particular, if my school is closed in January and February (which it may well might, heating issues - we have coal, but the heating system is broken at the moment) this will be quite a long time of doing a whole lot of no teaching. Time to apply resourcefulness and creativity, hmm...<br />Peace,ChrisChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-9164816525795087662008-11-05T23:00:00.000-08:002008-11-05T23:06:26.860-08:00Apples n OrangesTo compliment my recent update, I'd just like to say this week has been the apple to my previous month's orange (or orange to apple - I love both). First off, PC visited all the Talas volunteers to see how we're doing. The vice-director pulled out some candy corn and some oranges at the end - my jaw almost hits the floor, oranges are delicious and super expensive now! But yeah, that was great.<br /><br />This week has been the best week I've had in Kyrgyzstan. Everything has gone right, everything has been positive, everything has been wonderful. My packages arrived. I'm going to Bishkek for the weekend. I was able to sleep and rest. We have a new president. And this president isn't the stinky national-Republican type that has been destroying our reputation and economy for the past few years. It's our historical, first African-American, hope-inducing, positively and peacefully minded new president: Barak Obama! Hurray!<br /><br />Things are going great. I've needed this energy and excitement for a long time; it's just coincidence that everything is all happening at once. Cheers to all, huzzah!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-12882518057335538652008-11-05T22:55:00.000-08:002008-11-05T22:59:25.888-08:00YAY!I feel good! Hee hee! I haven't felt this good since I got my first glimpse of a Kyrgyzstan morning. It's amazing!<br />Yesterday was great. I got up early and went to the bank (hurray for settling-in allowance), with my eje barking a bit at me to get her her money. But whatever. I purchase an electric chinek (basically a water heater, good for boiling purposes) and a pair of coffee mugs - should have bought some more things, like teaspoons, bowls, etc. but that can wait. I go home, see nobody's there so I stash my allowance and storm off to the post office. It's not open! Wonder wonder... anyway, I head back to my home and stop at a couple stores along the way - some have cups, but no spoons or bowls. As I exit the last store, I see my little little brother with a bow & arrow that seems to be so popular among boys here. I ask him what he's doing, and stand by him a bit until he drops the 'toy' and comes home with me. We spend the afternoon picking apples off the tree and playing a bit. At one point he decides to snap off a couple branches from a tree and tries to get me to use it as a sword/javelin/staff (as he's so transfixed with violence and kung-fu) - I pull the brilliant idea from my days of scouting to get my pocket knife (so happy I brought it - very useful) and start whittling like I did with so many-a walking stick back in the day. This sort of blows my brothers mind, and he goes off to find his own 'knife,' a razor, to join me in the yard. After shredding the bark, I try cutting a few designs into the fresh wood - on my second design, the guy who delivered my first bit of mail rides up into the home on a newspaper bicycle.<br />I got mail! Some piece of language learning from PC, and my ballot (hey, the election's tomorrow, thanks!). He also has news - I have not one, but two packages for you, and they're waiting at my house! I would have gotten them to you earlier, but I was at a party this weekend - I've had them since Friday. So we trek down to his house, and I nab the two rather large boxes. He needs my passport and signature, but we're neighbors (this word looks very strange to me now, having been using the British version for classes...) - he'll do it next time.<br /><br />Things first travelled to Bishkek, then Talas city, then my rayon center, then to my town (by taxi, or something). All the wrapping was intact, everything was there. Wonderful! In the middle of opening my package, I'm called to eat - twice, because I was so transfixed with the packages. My hand is shaking all throughout dinner, and I down 3 cups of coffee (why are we drinking coffee for dinner?!?); the packages await! I get to a package within the package - a playmobil lego-type box. I think "Uhh... why was this sent?" So I walk into the bedroom across from my own, thinking, "If this is a toy, I'll share it with my sibs." Oops, forgot my knife in the other room - I go get it, and open the box. Inside is a plethora of pens, pencils, post-it notes, all sorts of goodies. I have tons of notebooks - don't think I'll be wanting for paper anytime soon. Shared my skittles with the fam - they seemed to like them.<br /><br />Some spices (cinnamon & vanilla, wonderful! I get to try my baking hand now), some food items, a down comforter (!! so good), razor & toothpaste (hurray, I can stop cleaning out my disposables for a while), and all sorts of good stuff. It felt like Christmas, and I felt like a kid all over again! Huzzah! Best day I've had in a long time.<br /><br />Notes on food - don't be shy with sending me anything. Peanut butter. I love it, and here they don't have it. So if there's a spare box lying around, filling the entire thing with peanut butter would be... decadent. Other snacks are great as well. Big bags of candy, boxes of whatever will last, anything. Things that can last a while are much appreciated, i.e. a big bag of something. But most importantly - peanut butter, they don't have it here (and when/where they do it's small, very rare, and sells out lickety split). <br /><br />My goal is to try and get an inventory of things so I can try to make American food, improvise and perhaps concoct something of my own, and just get a cooking deal going. I could also use some measuring instruments - I have a 1-cup cup that I primarily use for painting (i.e. it's my water cup) and that's about it. I'm going to try getting some stuff when I go to Bishkek, like a pie dish, perhaps a bread pan, things like that. If I'm going to have to eat besh barmak for breakfast, they're going to have to eat the good American stuff! Ha...<br /><br />This week off is amazing. I get to rest, kids aren't calling out my name and opening the door to the class I'm in, my fam seems a bit more nice now that they have monthly rent and I've shown & shared some of my packages, I get to travel and visit my first host family as well as other volunteers, and I made one volunteer super happy just for showing up to Talas on his birthday (all the partiers seemed to come to near-worship of me for that... odd...). But this is definately the most positive I've been in a while. Packages can make it here! Woo!<br />--<br />Just took my weekly banya. Refreshing, and revealing. Since I part my hair, and it's usually dry (thus curlier at the ends), I don't have an accurate account of how long it is most of the time. Today I got to see just how long it really is -- halfway down my nose. Now, I believe long hair here is uyat - shameful - but I'm not too concerned about that. What I am concerned about is the hair cutting situation. What with the lack of decent communication skills and very, very scary 80s haircuts people sport here (mullets, freaky fades, hairspray), I'm afraid to chop this monster on top of my head. Every volunteer I've seen that has gotten a haircut has told me, "Yeah, they didn't really get what I was trying to say..." as they're sporting chach joke - no hair. I don't want that, especially since it's getting pretty cold out and I have enough problems getting sick here as is. So I'm presented with a dilema - no vision, or no hair? If only the hairstyles here weren't so... vintage 70s/80s.<br />--<br />So this morning I get a call from my dad - Obama's in the lead with about 200 electoral votes to McCain's 80. California, Washington, and Oregon (all projected to go to Obama) are still open, and those three alone would push Obama past 270. I remain in contact with a volunteer I know is staking out the results via internet. At about noon or so here, I get the results.<br />Obama is president! Or, will be in January, when our current slophead gets out. And I thought my week couldn't get any better! Oh wow, what a relief. I can keep my two copies of my ballot as relics from one of the most memorable, intensive, and important elections ever. Amazing! I can come back to the US after done here in Kyrgyzstan! And we can get the blindness out of our highest governmental office. Huzzah! I'm sure many of you are celebrating back in the States, I know my fellow volunteers and myself will be.<br /><br />Hee hee!Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-59430637789899953502008-11-01T01:27:00.000-07:002008-11-01T01:28:10.850-07:00Oh my free timeAs I'm sitting here, attempting to read my tests and think about the events of the past few days, I'm contemplating a reoccurring thought that has been on my mind for years now. Though I may be young and attempting to do so in whatever capacities I can, it's a basis for my actions: I will not be around forever, and my time now, however long, grueling, fruitful, uneventful, life-changing (and/or just about every single other adjective you can think of) it may be, needs to be beneficial in some way, shape, or form. There are good, bad, and neutral things; it's necessary to improve upon them all, either by emphasis, change, information, awareness, and a whole host of other positive methods. This is not just for the here and now or the special occassion -- rather, it is a style of living, my style of living (or at least what I would like to be my style of living) and it's central emphasis is this: treating others with empathy and/or sympathy, acting with the Golden Rule in heart and mind, and working to make the world around you, no matter how grand or minute in scale an action it may be, a better place. If I can do one thing, one thing at all, to make this world better, then I believe mine will have been a life worth spent.<br /><br />On that note, I realize how little and how much time I have here in Kyrgyzstan. It's a lot because it's two years in a foreign environment, doing work previously not done, learning a new language, customs, values, style of living etc. I'll be able to establish relationships and do many things that would be unthinkable if I did anything other than be a volunteer. On the other hand, if the past few years have taught me anything, years tend to fly by. The here-and-now may seem long, but in reality it's short and miniscule. Some things I will have to adapt to here, some things I will not. For instance, I fully intend to start up some sort of youth dialogue/awareness club (perhaps for the summer, but it can be integrated into my English Club) in order to talk about primarily Kyrgyzstan but also the rest of the world, pros & cons, perceptions, opinions, etc. It's a difficult task because this culture is fairly adamant about avoiding any such discussion directly - people have their ideas, but they're often conveyed via middleman, and even then it can take a long (i.e. perhaps six months) to reach the subject of conversation. But I don't have that kind of time, to ask a question and wait for weeks or months for a response. As I've mentioned before, people are adamant about me "taking a girl" - this is a concession I will not make, and I don't care about offending people about it. There are several important and alarming issues facing this country, and rather than sit back and simply be a teacher, it's my duty and call to be the volunteer that I decided to be and do something more than sit idly by and comply with every single societal norm. Some things, yes. Some things, absolutely not. Time will tell how it pans out, but my job here is to follow what my sentiments and beliefs in the previous paragraph are.<br /><br />--<br /><br />The other day it started snowing here. None of it stuck, fortunately, but that still doesn't bode well. I've got my ridiculously heavy (the thing weighs about 20 pounds) winter coat and matching Jigeet (typically just a guy, man, dude, w/e) hat to go with it. The only thing I need now is a decent pair of boots, and something good in the way of undergarments (which I hope will arrive soon). The bazaar is devoid of many familair foods, with bread, potatoes, apples, persimmons, and expensive oranges taking the primary role now. Inside is little relief from outside, though honestly it's not much different from Harvest Lane (you know, with the whole not having/turning on of heat). It certainly makes for rough days, though, with the power going out for so long. I'm wearing multiple layers every day, my gloves, my new hat, would be wearing a scarf if I had one, and my socks will transition from regular to heavy. I just picked up my smoke detector from PC, which is a req. due to my home requiring a whole bunch of coal (and no, I don't think it's NE PA coal) to stay moderately warm. My school is, I believe, closing for much of the winter - from Dec. 25-sometime in March. It's the #1 concern here.<br /><br />--<br /><br />So I've gotten back from the city with a bunch of goodies in hand. I bought some fresh persimmons from the bazaar, some of the cookies (that taste oh so good, and help with the hard times here) that are both comparatively cheap and delicious - vanilla and chocolate cookie with a chocolate filling, oreo style - some peanuts, of course, and a rare and expensive treat - dried pineapple. When I saw the pineapple my mouth was dropped in disbelief, and again at the price, but I just had to have it. It's not the best I've ever had, but for my favorite fruit I'd go for it again. I wish I had gotten some bananas while I was shopping - they were very cheap this trip, about 15 som a banana (they're usually 25+ som per) - but I was hankering for the persimmons more. There are a bit more oranges out now, but they're pretty expensive and will go down in price during the winter (I believe) - now they're about 25 som per orange, and in prime season they'll cost about 60 som per kilo. Of course, if prices aren't marked, one can always sodalash (bargain) the price down, as I did for my coat, hat, and some other small items. But that's usually a case of bringing an inflated price down to the norm, particularly since the perception is that Americans have lots of money, regardless of being a volunteer or not.<br /><br />My daily life here is so strange. I'm constantly requesting to help out, have the fam show me their cooking techniques, etc. etc. but they never let me do anything. They'll say alright, but when the time comes it's no deal. A bit aggrivating, particularly as I'm sitting on my bed that's had no sheets for the past 4 days due to them insisting on washing things themselves. I can understand my clothes washing situation a bit - what with having a relic-of-a-washing machine - but I'm 'required' to do my own personal laundry (ie undies & socks) in the banya, which means I get to do a few pairs every week before my head explodes from how hot the banya room is. It's more a factor of me not feeling like I fit in here, feeling quite worthless at home, and feeling like the typical lazy Kyrgyz man who does nothing but sit around, complain, and bark out orders (which I don't do, but still). Whenever I even try to do something on my own, someone either coddles me with a 'Thanks very much! You did such a good job! Now go sit down, I can finish...' or 'No no, let me do that, you can watch but I'll do it.' At least I'm 'allowed' to clean my own room...<br /><br />Kyrgyz men. These days nothing boils my blood quite like this group of people. Like I said earlier, they're typically a lot of lazy do-nothings. Now, I don't want to sit here making some sort of rash generalization, but evidence has, for the most part, proven this to be so. For example, here in KY women pretty much do everything - working in the fields, cleaning the house, making food, doing all the hard work. Men do... uh... lets see... well, at my school, the 1/10 or so staff that's male teach. Sometimes I'll see a random herder or worker, but women do that as well. For the most part, the men get drunk, very early on in the day, and either gamble in the baike circle (ring of guys squating on the side of a street, usually, with a bottle of vodka) or put on a facade of working at whatever they can consider their job. A favorite pastime of theirs is to harass volunteers, particularly female volunteers, so I'm always on my guard about that. Now, that in and of itself is enough to aggrivate me to no end. But what really gets me going is how they treat the women here - there is no such thing as gender equality here in KY. At work, the men generally ignore the women (and consequently vice versa), stick to a ring and converse among themselves. At home, men generally sit down and watch as the women do all the work, and are quick to lash out with admonishing commentary or criticism, despite A) not doing the work themselves and/or B) not even knowing how to do said work. It really angers me that women are beaten here. One of my friends, who lives in the most remote part of KY that PC goes to, has had a few neighbors bride kidnap women since he arrived at site. There is a super machismo here, but really nothing to back it up. The men do all sorts of messed up things, and none of the things they actually should be doing. In my mind, most of the men here are anti-men.<br /><br />Now, a strong case for why this is so is present in the following: KY has had a very rough time after the Soviet collapse. Former doctors, engineers, and other such prestigious professions have had to either become farmers/store owners, or move to different countries. Despite being a primarily Muslim country, the most prevelant drink here is vodka, which is undoubtedly an influx from Russia. Before vodka, people drank kumuz (fermented mares milk) and gave toasts with that drink at parties etc. - now, however, it's pretty much all done with vodka. There are very few jobs in the villages, where Kyrgyz primarily live, so it's hard to live a successful life without being a farmer (or at least owning a few animals yourself). People marry very young (high school graduation is called Kuz [girl] bazaar) and many families are gigantic. Prior to Soviet rule, most marriages in KY were arranged. During Soviet rule, marriage was changed to be more in the style of what we in the west have - however, this met with resistance from the Kyrgyz, so some people opted to 'kidnap' one another, a practice that is present in KY's history but only very rarely, and the manner that is so prevelant today was strongly opposed and had severe consequences during and prior to Sovietism. This method evolved a bit over time starting from the 1930's-40's, and has become strongly ingrained into the mindset of people here as being a tradition - so nowadays, many men bride kidnap, often forcably (since dating seems to be nonexistant here, and the villages are so set in their ways).<br /><br />--<br /><br />Two days ago (Oct. 27th) I experienced one of the strangest experiences I've had here in Kyrgyzstan. I head to school for my afternoon classes, which are supposed to start at 2:00. I arrive at 1:55, wait in the teachers' room for about 15 minutes with nobody showing up, and finally some Ejes come in and say that my counterpart is in the cafeteria. Ok, I think, what the heck is going on now, we're missing class... So I head to the cafeteria, and there, 'lo and behold, is the majority of my school's staff, sitting around having a party. I'm not given time to digest the site - my presence is noticed and I have 10 people telling me to sit in 10 different places. I befuddledly stumble to a spot and promptly have all the markings of a Kyrgyz feast/party - candy, lots of bread, lots of borsok (fried pieces of dough), soda (ie soft drinks), vodka - shoved in my face. As I grogily take a piece of borsok and have 3 people pour me some off-brand orange soda (off-brands, while in the US are usually the exact same, are in my opinion terrible here - they all have a same candy-esque taste and aftertaste to them, feel like they'll burn a hole through my teeth, and just overall taste bad), people start getting up and giving toasts, with vodka of course, in what is today the Kyrgyz style. My counterpart decides to come over and talk with me a bit; I try asking what the heck is going on, but before long I'm on the spot to give a toast of my own. So I'm standing with a coffee mug of putrid orange soda, no idea what the heck is going on or what's being celebrated, with 20 people telling me to give a toast in Kyrgyz. I rattle off the standard 'Thank you everyone, good health to you all' and have a brain fart directly after as I realize I A) have no idea what this is for and B) even if I did probably wouldn't know the appropriate way to say it in Kyrgyz. So I speak for about 1 minute, in English, about how it's an honor to be here, thanks to you all for being hospitable, etc. I sip my soda; that's not good enough! Down it in one gulp! So I comply, sit down, and try to stop my head from spinning.<br /><br />I'm shipped off to class on my own as my counterpart helps clean up. The classroom I'm supposed to go to is locked, so I flounder back to the party area. Go wait in the teacher's lounge. Alright... When all's said and done, my counterpart and I head to what was presumably our next class. Only our schedule was all messed up, and we arrived one period ahead, so had an empty classroom for about 40 minutes. I glean that the celebration was for my counterpart; she was celebrating (re: being the woman, making food and serving for 3 days straight) the fact that one side of the family had given her and her husband wedding gifts. Note: I think they've been married for one year already, or something. But the party at school was to celebrate the fact that she had a celebration and now had gifts. That, in a nutshell, is the way Kyrgyz people celebrate stuff - if someone they met once on a corner 5 years ago during a storm happens to go out and, say, buy a car, or donkey, or plants a tree, or something, everyone is inclined to celebrate it with plenty of food and drink. As my mind is trying to buffer the thought process of this celebration method, my counterpart and I got into a discussion about how she thinks she's too old to have kids, and I think she's almost too young to be married. For the record she's 25, and according to her, her doctor, and most Kyrgyz people, she will be an old hag incapable of producing life very soon. I just call it crazy, especially her bit about 18-20 being the best time to have kids. Oi...<br /><br />My host family. If I could describe it in one statement at the moment, it would have to be: spectacularly mediocre. Not bad, not good. It's a real struggle trying to do most anything - since kids are pretty much supposed to do all the work, and my house is anything but lacking kid-power, I can't really do a whole lot here. I've offered countless times to help and have simply been brushed off. My life at home seems to consist of three rooms - the dining room, the outhouse, and my bedroom where I spend most of my time. I haven't seen my host Eje (still disturbed that it's Eje and not host mother) for a while. My only solace is the oh-so-rare conversation with a family member at the dinner table, or spending time with my youngest host brother. I've tried talking about napkin usage at the dinner table with my family due to my nose issues (note: every meal tends to be scalding hot soup with some nice hot tea to wash it down, which my nose just loves...). They all seem embarassed about it, and lately it's been me and my sister eating meals, then afterward (or sometimes even beforehand) everyone else piles in to eat. Oh, my family also stopped buying toilet paper for some reason, instead opting for the old used notebook or Soviet handbook - I think right now the spiders of the outhouse understand me more. Oi vei.<br /><br />The food here. While it's not bad, I'm starting to miss the better tastes of life (particularly after the 5th or so day straight of soup - have to pee so much every day now). It's gotten to the point where I'm retreating to my room, raiding my personal stash every day. Things have left me desiring something more; granted, not exceptionally more, but one can only do so much with potatoes and cabbage. The other night I was literally dreaming of cinnamon buns - I woke up soon after, finding I had drooled all over myself. Hot broth and noodles and cabbage and potatoes - decently filling, not pleasant for my pallet after so many days straight (particularly since they love putting dill - which I hate - fairly liberally into soups). Something non-soup would be wonderful right about now. A taste from home would be even more wonderful. I sure hope the Kyrgyz postal system doesn't pull shenanigans with my mail, as they've been known to do. So far, no packages since before I arrived at site, when PST ended and I was as of that time not yet a volunteer.<br /><br />So today is my brother Sean's birthday. Happy birthday. Sorry I can't really get you a present, I'm kinda on the other side of the world. Good luck with football and hope everything goes well. Don't be too miserable - look at me, I'm in a place even colder than home, using an outdoors bathroom with spiders all the time, get to stand in a van for 40 minutes if I want to go anywhere, have to wait at least 4 hours before I have usable water, and don't have electricity for the greater majority of the day. I'm not that unhappy either! So have a good one, and eat some good food for me, maybe I'll start dreaming of it.<br /><br />Three times. It's snowed three times so far in the past week's worth timespan. Unfreakinbelievable. My heater is sitting here, uselessly plugged in during our unforgiving period of electric drought. It's cold enough to make me chilly 24-7, but not outrageously so. And when I say 24-7, I mean 24-7. With my heater, my room can get maybe into the mid-60s. Heat is a winter commodity that's nigh-impossible to come by. It's either "Oh my God" cold outside, or "Eh, slightly less" cold inside. No refreshing warm showers, no thermostat to crank, no exceptional covers to crawl under. There's the 1-3 times a day I eat, getting something warm, and that's roughly it. Park myself next to my heater when the electricity comes back on, and my toes might thaw. Oh ho, it's going to be a fun fun winter. Please, post office, don't screw around with my packages and take my warm clothes...<br /><br />--<br /><br />So privacy is a bit of an issue for me. My family is cool about it - heck, half the time they treat me like I have the plague. It's the outsiders that give me a hard time. My room is situated as the first part of the house you can see, being front and center. My home is sort of a comunal hotspot - we have a banya that several people in the neighborhood utilize and a water pump that's frequently used by the locals. That, plus all sorts of other business deals, friends dropping by, and lord only knows what else, and we have a regular hotel lobby going on here. In Kyrgyzstan, it's rare for a house to have a doorbell, so people bang, yell, and whistle. When whatever random person they're calling for doesn't answer, they come on in and bang louder, opening doors, etc. Unfortunately for me, this means they'll come right up to my window and start banging and calling. Also, the closed door seems a foreign concept to people here - I've had a few incidents of completely random people walking into my room. That scares the hell out of me; fortunately nothing has happened yet, but my presedence hasn't been completely established. I always lock my door when I'm not at home. Finally, the curtains to my room. Like I said earlier, my room is the first one you can see when walking into the house. It also has a rather large berth of window exposure, and just a thin see-through curtain which serves almost no purpose but decoration. So yeah, I have to hide every time I change, lest I flash the entire community. Privacy, thou art a commodity.<br /><br />Finally, a break of pace from the soup run. A plate o' potatoes! Yay! At least it's not scalding soup, which aggrivates my nose the most. And tea is more tolerable when I don't have a gallon of broth going down my throat. Still, I miss decent cold drinks - I may freeze to death when I go back to the States just from that alone.<br /><br />When I close my eyes I feel so at peace, like a weight has been lifted. I really need this Fall Break we're having next week (Oct 31-Nov 7), a time to recharge and get some planning done. Also, I might head to Bishkek with some of the other volunteers. That'll be something - I can use the post office there and attempt to get gifts (Christmas et al) sent, meet up with some friends, check out the eats, and generally just get away from the village for a few days. Hope I have enough $$! Oi. Living on about $65 a month, been saving a good deal of it for a while. Good thing my primary shop is the bazaar, where the price can be bargained, sometimes.<br /><br />One thing I've realized is that despite living away from home for the greater majority of the past 4, 4 1/2 years, I've always been home for the holidays. This year will be my first away from home during Thanksgiving and Christmas. Not easy - particularly since nobody here celebrates our holidays. Instead of Christmas they have Jangu Jill, New Years, which is the biggest holiday of the year. It has Santa, and celebration, but nothing of what makes Christmas the holiday it is today. Here there's a feast, and a gigantic Santa parade because some Swedish research group found that Santa's home would be here in Kyrgyzstan if he were to feasibly make a trip around the world in one night. But it just sounds like a bigger version of every other party they have here; not bad, but not Christmas. More similar to Thanksgiving, if anything.<br /><br />--<br /><br />These new pictures of that studly figure are none other than yours truly, taken just a few days ago. First there's me in my pimp-jacket and baeke hat, gearing up for the long haul of winter's cold. What's missing right now is a pair of boots, perhaps some matching gloves (I have good ones but they're brown grr...) and a nice ol scarf to go along with it all, possibly some earmuffs as well (the baeke hat has a flip-down action in the back, but it's not spectacular). The second picture is me sporting my Obama shirt; it reads "Obama, for the sake of America," from Americans Abroad for Obama, Kyrgyzstan (which wasn't cheap, either - lots o money for one on a volunteer budget). You can of course glimpse my room in all it's unkempt splendor in the background. I wear big clothes to hide my skinny self! I think I'm getting back on track weight-wise -- been eating a lot of bread, and taking second helpings, and munching on my snacks, and trying to get my fruit intake, and haven't been sick, and, and, and...<br /><br />I raided the PC Talas Library last time I was in the city. At my rate, I think I'll have all the books read by the end of winter, perhaps third time through 'em all by next year's winter.<br /><br />So I'm pretty nervous about next week and the election. The latest news I have is from September, with some sprinklings from emails about what's going on. I'm also miffed that I won't have the opportunity to vote, stupid Windsor Post Office or whoever it was that decided not to mail my ballot because the address compilation is switched in Kyrgyzstan (i.e. country, oblast/state, rayon/district, city/town, street, name, in descending order). Oi... the biggest election and I don't get to participate. Someone revoke my Poly Sci BA. But I hope McCain is still drowning in his muck, and Palin messing things up with her complete lack of worthwhile credential. I may have to follow other volunteers and take on an extended service if I don't get to come back to a paper with Obama's sig on it. Lord knows the irony of Bush's sig on the PC papers I got when I signed up.<br /><br />--<br /><br />The fact that I'm here is slowly dawning on me - that I'm actually here - and it's a bit frightening, revealing, and confusing. Mainly, this brand of volunteer work is vastly different from anything and everything I've ever done. In the past I've held volunteer work as work packed for time, never a lack of things to do, plenty of people willing to share and experience. While here it's not the opposite of those things, it's a completely different brand of volunteerism. I'm not here for a few hours, a day, or a week; I'm here living with people in their environment for a greater amount of time, attempting to both be one of them and an outsider with new ideas all at the same time. There's needs and problems, but I'm not working in a volunteer-prone area; rather, working for free (almost, I still get my living allowances) is as foreign a concept as I am. I need to dig to discover, work at fitting in, learn and listen and watch. The time here is slow, very slow, and it's easy to fall into habitual neglect or oversight. People love to glaze over problems, are quick to highlight the things they're proud of; it's true of practically any culture (see: tourism) but it makes for a mountain in terms of tackling real issues. It's going to take a lot of patience and perseverance, and I hope I'm up to this task. No amount of preperation could brace someone for a situation such as this - it has to be tackled with individual touch and gradual perception, empathy, sympathy.<br /><br />In many ways Kyrgyzstan has blindsided me. When thinking of Peace Corps the typical image is a volunteer in shorts, t-shirts, and sandals; the typical African or Central/South American volunteer. Here I'm wearing business clothes every day. I've been thrown into a position as a teacher - and not just a teacher, a co-teacher, which is very very challenging - when I'm more used to doing volunteer volunteer work (i.e. spending time with the needy, helping out with this or that cause, etc.). It feels like a 9-5 job (sometimes 8-6 with no break), with quite a few more hitches to it. My role as a teacher is a bit aggrivating - I can't work with my counterparts outside of class due to the shame factor of them being young women in a village, materials are scarce, the old ways of teaching are quite apparant and highly cumbersome, and I generally don't have much of an idea what goes on (or what will go on, lesson plans aren't shared with me) during class. I think there are some bright points in what I've done so far - students sticking up for me, students rushing to me after class to give them their grade (I'll often give good grades for sheer effort, of which there is quite a lacking), students wanting so badly to get an English club going, students students students. Pretty much everything good that has happened to me here in Kyrgyzstan has been something out of preservice training or with my students. Granted, some of my worst moments also occurred with both, but who wouldn't expect that. I'll be the odd-teacher-out in that I'll side with the students whenever I can - homework and classwork system of books nobody has be damned!<br /><br />On that note I'm somewhat unnerved with the degree to which my host family has extended itself to important positions. When talking about family, the conversation always goes something like "... and so-and-so is the director of x school, this person is part of the local government, cousin Bobbek (men often have bek - lord - at the end of their name) runs this company..." and so on. Part of me thinks it has to do with showing off, part of me thinks it's an attempt to assert something or other. For example, one host uncle-type-person told me if I had problems with anyone I should call him, and he'd fix them because he knows a lot of men (presumably police or ruffians, though they're practically one in the same here). He also wants me to take him to America once I go back, which seems to be a fairly common sentiment here, despite things being 'better, healthier, bigger...' in Kyrgyzstan. I know that to a large degree nepotism and favors play a role in what you are in this country. It unnerves me because Kyrgyzstan has quite a few problems, but nothing gets solved when a person goes to a job because their brother got it for them and they like the money, and they don't really know what to do so they show up at 10 a.m., often drunk, and just collect a paych... uh, lump of som (haven't seen a check here). The mentality here is all about helping one another out, be it friend or family, and little regard is given to efficiency or quality. It's readily apparent in school, with how students (despite me telling them don't cheat, don't talk to one another) will always shout or whisper answers, copy off one another, or throw things around the room (the real kicker is when they did it during our quarter's end exam - which consisted of them copying a text from a book, word for word; some students still failed even that). This culture is all about being part of a whole, scratch my back I'll scratch yours, and enh you're a friend of my brother's friend so I'll let that slide. Aggrivating in some regards, admirable in others.<br /><br />The act of saying to someone 'you have problems' is never an easy one. It's also bad to go about something in a manner such as straight up giving them a bunch of something - the impressions of both wealth and dependence are none-too optimistic. The art of diplomacy must be employed in such a case, in my case, and I'm hoping that what experience I have will help me. I've held my tongue on numerous accounts so far in-country - I must continue to do so until a point in time when I can comfortably start including issues into my actions and words. Everything is so fresh and real, and my idealistic heart yearns to jump where my practical mind deems 'not yet.' Oh, but to have the knowledge, community integration, and understanding of my village... time feels oh so drudgingly excruciating sometimes.Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-66498823666613648282008-10-22T21:29:00.000-07:002008-10-22T21:30:47.904-07:00Lots and lots (Gope gope)5/10<br />Today, as I was busy throwing up due to some food not sitting well, I received a pair of texts from my good friend Robin! Comfort during discomfort.<br /><br />This was my first time being truly sick at site, 4th time overall. I've had a bit of a cold for the past couple weeks, consequently granting me a constantly running, uyat (shameful) nose - it's shameful to blow your nose at the dinner table, we eat a lot of hot soup, I'm usually trapped inbetween people so getting up (which is a process in and of itself, have to "Omin" every time you get up from the table) is a hassle, and no napkins! - but nothing majorly major. Last night, though, my stomach gave me the "I've had it," grumble, and to the toilet I go! Not only is it very hard to use the bathroom under normal conditions, but it's also very cold outside during nighttime and morning hours nowadays. Add onto that my stomach illness and my cold, and we have a fun recipe. Let's just hope I don't have any urgent needs while writing this... (which, unfortunately, I did). I fear the winter, and though we thankfully have TP and not Ye Ol' Soviet Book, it's sure not huggies soft.<br /><br />It's a great reassurance receiving news, tidbits, info, remarks, anything! from home. For example, today I was feeling terrible due to my illness and the awful aftertaste it was giving me. But then I received a couple texts from Robin. That turned my gloomy day into a decent one! Getting something from home is like having a bright light break through the dark clouds sometimes; it makes my day and brings me so much happiness. I wish I were able to reply to the texts, but they're sent through megacom and it costs a boatload for me to send a text regularly. But such is life here, it's primarily one-way at this point. However, today, now I have the motivation to do some work while listening to some Cash n' Who instead of moping in bed trying to down some of my putrid oral rehydration salt mixture.<br /><br />--<br /><br />So I've had a bit of a good rest. The work I did was primarily trying to get my English Club advertisement and pre-entrance test finished. So far so good, but it's easy working on things by myself -- the real test will be giving the test, seeing how everyone does on it, sorting out who should go to what level, etc. I surely hope this club motivates students to study and work on English better than they currently do (and who knows, maybe they'll learn a thing or two). Right now students don't do homework, in part due to not having books and also I think because they have no encouragement to do so (lack of practicality, lack of decent speakers/teachers [up until now, I hope], old methods of Soviet-style teaching still prevails in the classroom, and the list goes on...). It's a tremendous challenge for me. I'm essentially starting from nothing in most cases, with nothing but the books so generously given to me by the King's English Dept. and Peace Corps, and of course my own imagination. I started with the ABC's in my second grade classes, and I think most/every class could use it... just hope I have my singing voice intact for the 17 different forms/classes I teach (in a given week, if I'm working on Sat, I have 34 classes, 25 without Sat, which I sometimes need to do). It's also difficult working with two other Kyrgyz teachers in all my classrooms - if my methods do nothing, then what then? Oh how I suddenly wish I were an Education Major...<br /><br />Aside from my health issues, things are going better here with my home life. My little 8 year old brother is becoming something of a buddy of mine - just the other day we were out making leaf soup in the yard, he often gets/shows me how to get apples from the trees in the yard, and we'll play or he'll show/talk to me about something. My other family members are a bit more difficult to interact with, but it's coming along. My 10 year old sister is a cutie-pie; very shy, but very eager whenever I ask her a question. My 15 year old brother likes listening to rap, hanging out with his friends, exclaiming loudly (what about I never know), and generally just being a typical guy, I think. I have two same-age sisters (apparently a couple of the children came in from another family, I'm not entirely sure on the story, but it doesn't seem a-typical Kyrgyz) who are nice enough but probably think I'm a space alien - wanting them to teach me how to cook food, cleaning my own room, offering to do my own laundry, etc. They do the typical Kyrgyz girl routine though; making most/all the meals (though I don't think they made the food last night...), doing the cleaning around the house, actually spending time studying for class, listening to whatever pop-esque music that peaks their interest. My eje (elder sister, aunt, etc etc. - it means a lot of things), who didn't want me calling her apa (mom), seems thrilled whenever I inquire about her work (seamstress, out of the home), family (which is apparently spread all throughout Talas), or anything else. Less so interested when talking about how things in America are, or personal interests, but hey, I appreciate not being the center of attention for once.<br /><br />I just want to spend a bit of time talking about women in Kyrgyzstan. Aside from the fact that people here keep insisting that I'll be married within the year to a Kyrgyz girl, there really aren't many options for me, and here's why. In the village (particularly) girls 26 or older are pretty much considered old croons or bad if they aren't married. So, pretty much everyone my age is married. The only other option, and what I think people who insist I get married infer, is a current high-school girl. Here in KY, graduation day has a different name for these girls - kuz bazaar (girl bazaar) - and it disturbs me, immensely. Not only are these very young girls expected to become a wife, they can be forced into marriage through bride kidnapping - essentially relegating the rest of their life (if they run away from the marriage they're shamed to no end and have difficulty getting more legitimately married - some resort to suicide). Add to the fact that every man I meet, aside from generally being a lot lazier and single-minded from the women, always talks about "Kuz Al," taking a girl, it's just revolting to me. Now there is consentual bride-kidnapping, presumably where both partners love each other and it's a cheaper option than the traditional marriage, which I sort of understand - it's the unconsented kidnapping and overall male attitude I'm concerned with, especially since it's so foreign to me and vehemently goes against my values. It makes me want to join up with other volunteers or a women's awareness group. It's especially a problem here in Talas - an oblast known for its machismo and hubris. Some traditions I can understand and mentally tolerate - this is not one of them.<br /><br />Power's out again, hurray. Looks like time to sign off.<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Chris<br /><br /><br />--<br /><br />16/10<br /><br />I usually don't write so soon after finishing, but oh my, today was something else.<br /><br />So today my counterpart was feeling sick as well, so we decided to divvy up our packed schedule so she taught 3 classes on her own and I the same. Unfortunately for me, I thought (must emphasize this, I thought!) I could handle the 2nd grade class on my own. Oh hoho. What a fool I am. Never have I had such a hard time with anything ever before. People complaining at Six Flags? Sure. People calling and talking to me at Lieb's office about how their son is being sent off to Iraq? Ok, hard. This? Wow.<br /><br />First off, technically speaking I'm really supposed to be sticking to older kids, 'cause it usually takes someone skilled to handle the little 'uns. But since I'm co-teaching, and figured what the heck why not help teach the class since they're learning English, I took it up. Take the co-teaching out of that equation, however, this is the situation we see. Imagine yourself in a nice, quiet, calm place. It's bright. It's sunny. There's your favorite beverage right there, you have all the time in the world to do whatever you want.<br /><br />Now, rip that all away, and throw yourself into a rolling morass of hot chaos. That cry, my friends, would be me in the middle of it all, with my nice happy place going bye-bye. Oh man. The kids had no respect for me and no concept of me having authority. First we started out singing the ABC's. Loud, but semi-controlled, so all's good there. But, like a rollercoaster, the ABC's was the peak-point and everything was rickety rolling out of control down a crazy lane. While I'm trying to get my "Connect the big letter to the smaller version of that letter" game going, half the class decides to get up and do some kung-fu action moves on each other in the back of the room, or start taking stuff from other children. I call out "Tinch!" which is essentially peace, what the teachers here use in an attempt to restore order. Some kids fall in line, some don't. So I have a few kids up at the board doing the game, and the naughty ones in back going at it again. Arg! "Baldar otur!" - boys sit - I call out. That lasts a whole 2 seconds. I then have some of the kids up at the board practicing their writing. Well, for the first 10 seconds that went well, until 10 students stormed the board in an attempt to do their own thing. Now they're up at the board trying to steal chalk from one another, the ones in the back relentlessly go about doing whatever their little hearts desired, and I'm in the middle trying to do about 20 things at once. Halfway through class an Eje pokes her head in and I give her a motion of complete exasperation - she gives them a minute talk on being nice, has them sitting down quietly etc. She leaves, and chaos resumes. I try to continue on, using my recently drawn pictures in an attempt to teach them the names of some animals in English. Oh my. I call out "What is this?" and what sounds like 50 eehawing donkies reply. While I'm doing this, the tentek baldar (naughty boys) apparently had had enough of class, and ran out of the room. I sit there, stunned. Two or three more kids decide to bolt for it as well. What is going on?!? I go, look outside, see no kids, then shut the door. Well... at least there's peace and quiet now, I thought. I won't let those kids back in. But that lasted for about 2 or 3 minutes, the tentek baldar have apparently been herded up by a different Eje and rounded back into the room. At this point, there's about 10 minutes of class left, and my head is screaming to me "Why oh why God why why why?!? Make it end!!!" So for the rest of the time I'm trying to review the animals, and the tentek baldar are basically miming/mocking me throughout the rest of the lesson. I somehow survived to the end, sat down, had most of the class leave, gave my grades to the few angels in my class (all girls, of course), then exasperatedly left to teach my final lesson for the day.<br /><br />If I didn't have what I consider an amazing class in my 7th "G" formers directly after, I don't know what. I came into class grouchy, but having the angels of my class calling the boys into line, doing the work, and sticking up for me, I happily gave them the 5's (A's) they deserved. Never again. Never again will I teach the 2nd grade on my own. Much credit to all teachers around the world who teach little children. A few small kids, I can handle. Twenty, half of whom are screaming mischief-making heads? Not so much. Oi... where's my tylenol...<br /><br />Peace,<br /><br />Chris<br /><br />P.S. Just had to add this because I couldn't stop laughing - so I saw the family washing machine today. All I can say to describe it is that it looks like a vending machine out of the Jetsons, or perhaps the Flinstones. Oh Soviets, what will you think of next??<br /><br />PPS. Brilliant idea! Take a photo of said vending/washing machine.<br /><br />--<br />19/10<br /><br />I think a lot of Peace Corps is a lot happening despite it feeling like very little, or perhaps a little happening feelings like a lot. Who knows, but that's kind of the impression I have right now.<br /><br />First off, I just received the text from my brother Pat about my Great Uncle Johnny dying. It makes me sad - he was a good man. He always used to call me Christopher Columbus. His actions were very kind and he was a gentle man. It's sad thinking about how he always cried at funerals, even for people he didn't know. I'm sorry I won't be able to make it to his own; he's in my heart though.<br /><br />This weekend (if it can be called that) I had work on Saturday, and my 'sitemate' visit me today (Sun). My school decided to schedule English classes on Saturdays, even though I said I shouldn't be working on Saturdays (which PC does say). When I inquired about it, I was told the person who devises the schedules isn't very good (as accredited to how the schedule changed about 5 times since I arrived in late Sept. -- well into the schoolyear at that point) and that they wouldn't change the schedule. I told them that's fine, but I'm not coming in every single Saturday because quite often Sat/Sun are days volunteers get together and do stuff. That plus it's nice to have 2 days off in a row. I do meet the hour requirement without working Sats, but I do feel a bit bad just not going to class all the time. I imagine I won't feel as bad once I get my English club up and running though.<br /><br />My sitemate visited for the first time. I put it in quotations the first time because techically I don't think I have a sitemate -- I'm the only volunteer in my rayon (district). However, this volunteer is about 5 minutes away, so she's the closest American to me here in KY. It was a relief after this almost-month of being at site to have someone I could regularly and openly communicate with at home, even if for just a few hours. For anyone who knows me, it's difficult for me to just start up a casual conversation, particularly with someone I've just met (being personally rather shy and quiet), even when I understand what's being talked about. Add on the language barrier, and it's been tough for me. In my training village, I really only needed to know a few people, a few families, etc. and I got along fine with that. Here, I have an entire collective (teachers staff), new neighbors, new students, who knows how many family members & their friends, and just random people yelling out my name all the time. My counterparts, while knowing decent English, don't really know me, or I them, and as (I believe) I've noted before there are some issues with them, particularly taboos, and their views being completely Kyrgyz (i.e. when I was sick, they told me to start drinking a lot of milk, and the old 'wrap a dead snake in a jar around your waiste to cure your ails' trick). So yeah, complete relief to finally get to see my sitemate and have a pleasant afternoon. That, plus my family went all-out and cleaned the outhouse (wow!) and made an amazing lunch, complete with fruit (also wow!- first time having a perssimmony), fresh bread, some of the good winter salad, candies (always brought out for spec. occassions), varenia (jam/preserve, but a bit different, and very tasty - albeit very very sugary), and just about whatever they could given they only had about 12 hours notice of my sitemate coming.<br /><br />So I'll be starting up my English club soon. This week I'll be giving a test to all those interested in participating. It's fairly basic (by my standards) - translate a few words, write a few sentences of their own, describe why they want to join the club, etc. Right now I just have no idea how many people want to partake in it. Sometimes I get the impression that there are a ton of people who want to join, sometimes I get the impression that there are very few. We shall see on Tuesday. I'm also not enjoying that one counterpart of mine is trying to make me do all this stuff for the club that I really don't think is necessary - such as developing 2 months worth of material and using x y or z book. She's freaked out by the Kyrgyz school standards - essentially the record books for each class/form (grades, attendance, homework assignments, dates, etc.). I'm not too concerned with it, personally, cause I think it's a load of... well... you know what, 'cause in KY grades can be bought, you can miss classes for a month straight and get the highest mark, or essentially just fudge the entire thing and have it be squeaky clean at the end. I could care less about the system at this point - I'm more concerned with developing a system, both for my club and for classes, where students actually learn something instead of memorizing something straight from a block of text that they'll forget tomorrow, or not even bothering to try. Oh Soviet system...<br /><br />Before I forget, I just have to mention. The other weekend, I was out at another village because it was one volunteer's birthday and we were getting together to celebrate. We were out playing frisbee golf in what I could only describe as hilly wasteland, and lo' and behold, up in the sky, something gigantic. At first I thought, "That's a small plane right there." But then I realized it's too small to be a plane. But it was too big to be a bird. So my next, for whatever logical reason, thought was, "That's a pterodactyl." So I sat there, stunned, thinking either I'm really stupid or some space-time continuoum has opened up and everything is going topsy-turvy. Fortunately it was the former. And there was a second one, right behind the first one. These giant things in the sky were eagles. As I finally processed that thought, having never really seen an eagle in-person, I stood in complete awe, mouth hanging open, as these two giant and majestic birds soared across the sky (horizontally from us, the volunteers). Part of me wishes I had my camera on me at the time, but part of me also is glad that I didn't. I don't think a camera could have captured just how big these eagles were, and would perhaps diminish their magnitude. But it was truly a memorable experience, seeing these animals that could really do some damage, in person, in the wild, freely flying off into the distance. Eagles seen in KY: 2, eagles seen in US: 0.<br /><br />--<br /><br />The prospect of me teaching is a bit scary to me. I'm not an authoritarian, don't have all these wonderful methods for teaching & communicating, and just feel unprepared in general. But, today, I was given reign to run the older classes (11th formers) on my own, while my counterpart observed. Well, she sat and translated a lot for me, particularly when I started fumbling with my Kyrgyz. But overall it felt good. My activity of the day: giving parts of sentences (ie one word on a slip of paper) to students in the class, have them get together up front, and figure out how to correctly configure it. While the majority didn't get the sentences right, I think it was just so completely different from what usually goes on in class that it was enjoyable for everyone. That, plus I gave everyone top marks for effort, cause heck, everyone was involved. Of course that means I had to sign everyones homework notebook, but hey, if it gets them involved, interested, and actually doing some studying/working with English, I'll wear my hand out with kol koi's (signatures). I just hope it works...<br /><br />As I'm sitting here, gnawing on a piece of dried apricot, I reminice about the days of summer when good, fresh fruit was available. Last night I was dreaming (and subsequently drooling...) about having something nice, tasty, and healthy to eat. Here in KY I generally eat decently, but meals basically consist of the following: something fatty, greasy, or oily, perhaps something spicy or salty, and maybe (if there's a party or celebration) something very sugary. As I was longing for my favorite fruits last night, pineapple, plums, pears, any type of berry... (note: I love all fruit, but these are my favs) I realized how very little I get here, and how next-to-none will exist in winter. Here, pretty much all fruit is preserved in some fashion; most goes into varenia, some is made into a dried version. I understand this, but still - I miss good, fresh fruit. In the meantime, I'll just resort to my newly-concocted snack: pieces of cut up dried apricot mixed with peanuts.<br /><br />Speaking of food, I think I'm rather fortunate with the different foods my family makes, despite getting ill from some monte (dumplings, often filled with potatoes, onions, peppers or squash, some form of meat, and usually lots of fat). Lots of families feed their volunteers the same thing all the time, usually soup or something simple. Lots of volunteers have been getting tons of besh barmak - the Kyrgyz national dish of broad, flat noodles cooked over oil and topped with meat (usually sheep), particularly intestines, stomach, head, lungs etc... - and that's not going so well. I usually get something different, albeit perhaps similar, every day. For instance, one day I might get macaroni with some sort of sauce, the next day macaroni soup. But it seems lots of Kyrgyz people love their fatty, greasy foods. As an example, one volunteer, for Orozo Ait, went to a house that had an amazing spread of fruits, breads, and sweets. The Kyrgyz men touched none of it. When the besh barmak came out, they went to town on it, leaving all the fresh amazing healthy food untouched. Oi... The bread here is amazing, and the fruits/veggies are usually excellent as well. The problem is they tend to be a bit pricy, and people want sheep guts over a nice piece of fruit. Luckily I don't have to deal with that often (hurray for a female-dominated household), and don't get tons and tons of meat here as other volunteers do. I'll hold off on making that a definitive statement, however, because winter is closing in and soon I must bid veggies (aside from potatoes and cabbage) and fruits farewell, and usher in an age of fat...<br /><br />--<br /><br />Hrm... so today was rather interesting. Teaching my own classes was fine, esp. since the students seemed excited about subjects/activities for once. However, since tomorrow I'm giving my English club test, the questions and requests have been non-stop. First is the students - what time will it be, what do we need, who can take it, etc. etc. (most of which is on the advertisement I put up). That's understandable. But, and most annoyingly, the teachers have been bugging me about it too. Not because they're interested in the club, want to talk to me, or whatever - they're mostly afraid because their children all go to the school, they want them to join the club, but know their children don't know English. So I've had a whole bunch of my collective come up to me requesting special preference for their child, giving me their names, offering to introduce them to me, and overall bombarding me with questions. They fear that I'm going to make some sort of elite English group with this test I'm giving - all I want to do is see how many students are interested (which seems like a lot at this point) and get an idea of where everyone's English level is at. I don't mind having students who took German while the school still had it, or someone from a form that doesn't have English, or someone from 6th form (I said 7th + 'cause that's the cutoff point for the big kids I teach). But it's all fear, and why I can understand, but with how quickly word gets arround I'm a bit exasperated at how many times I've had to tell parents to just send their kids in to the test tomorrow, it's not a big deal if they don't know English. That's the way it goes, though, so here's to tomorrow and the start of my grading (for something substantive) career!<br /><br />So now that my nose is starting to subside at meals, my club will begin soon, and I'm teaching a bit on my own (in an attempt to purge this system of the stringent teacher-student superiority and boring, mindless, ineffective class wall), things seem to be picking up and looking brighter. Granted, it's still very early, but I'm starting to feel optimistic. My host family is growing on me a bit more, I'm talking some more with them, and generally we're all being nice to one another. The banya (see behind Super Soviet [Jetsons] Washing Machine) is so blisteringly hot it gives me a headache and I can't breathe, but better that than bucket bathing with how the weather is turning cold. Sometimes I get a taste of home in the food prepared - tonight I had puree, which is essentially mashed potatoes (mmm mmm) with oil (of course), topped with peppers, some bits of meat, and onions. The latter isn't so much the taste of home part, but mashed taters is all gravy (hmmm... oil... gravy... not quite, but similar results). I've had more laghman (long thick spaghetti-esque noodles in oil, cooked with diced peppers, potatoes, meat, onions, etc.) than besh barmak, which is good 'cause hot laghman on a cold day hits the spot. Free time is a bit difficult because I haven't had the opportunity to swap out my books with the Talas library, but that will change in a couple days (and you'll all know because I'll get to post this monstrosity of an entry, at last), but I still could use some more in the way of entertainment. However, that's not a high priority at the moment. Right now it's just establishing myself, getting my PC money for coal to heat the home this winter, figuring out how to wash up/brush teeth decently in the winter (now I do everything at the sink, which is, of course, outside), trying to visit other volunteers and have them visit me, find the village post office so I can get some mail out, dagu dagu dagu (etc. etc. etc.).<br /><br />It feels good to end on a happier note. So to all,<br /><br />Peace,<br />ChrisChrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2221972343716777761.post-54609562484801232742008-10-11T23:48:00.000-07:002008-10-12T00:07:56.827-07:00Reflect<span style="font-family:arial;font-size:85%;">Hello all,</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">As I'm sure some of you heard, and I had only heard second-hand the other day, Kyrgyzstan had an earthquake just recently. This took place in Osh Oblast, in the south of Kyrgystan, which is far away from me (relatively). Earthquakes and avalanches are the two biggest natural disasters Kyrgyzstan has, though they don't happen often. I am unaffected by the recent earthquake, but my heart goes out to the victims there. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Things are going decently well for me. I'm started to get develop a better relationship with my host family, and my fellow volunteers are proving to be good friends as well. My biggest challenge at the moment is trying to develop some form of curriculum that will prove to be effective. Herein lies the challenge:</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">A) My students have no books</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">B) My counterparts all teach from one book per class, some of which are very old (i.e. books from the early 80's that contain lines about how Soviet citizens have great freedoms to pursue their vocation of choice, while Capitalist citizens primarily join the army of the unemployed)</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">C) Seeing above conflict, students don't do homework and essentially learn nothing</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">D) Each class progresses as if students do the work, in effect continuing on with more and more complicated topics</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">E) English isn't learned, and everyone - both students and teachers - become frustrated with it all</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">F) It's taboo for me to meet with my counterparts outside of the school, they essentially have no free time after school, and lesson planning isn't done at school, so coordination and communication is very difficult</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">So seeing the above problems, I have a tall task ahead of me. I'm hoping to allieviate some of them in part by opening an English club at my school; that's not a complete answer, however. It will take a lot of dialogue, brainstorming, fresh ideas, compromising, and overall blood sweat n' tears to do what needs to be done in order to have an effective English program at school. As for me, right now I'm just trying to make do with what I can, i.e. adopting the partial-cursive (ouch for me) writing style they use here, and working with one of the things that should have died out with the Soviets but didn't - the dreaded blackboards.</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Recently I've been able to read a lot of articles from other volunteers etc. both from past and present. It's heartened me to go back to my quintisential roots at King's by reading the happenings from my years there. Right now I've just received news of the tragedies that have happened on campus and my heart goes out to the faculty, students, residents and families - and I hope that the messages of hope and humility that were so prevalant during my time there will come through in these times to strengthen the community and give a strong sense of reality to sadness to everyone there. Please be safe, keep the victims in your hearts, and rely on one another to be there for support. </span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Peace,</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;">Chris</span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:Arial;font-size:85%;"></span>Chrishttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11681185827507361842noreply@blogger.com0