Dance of the Moon

After 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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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).
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.
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!
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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).
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?!?
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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.
"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.
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...
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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.
Thank goodness for peanut butter!
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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.
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.
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.
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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.
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.
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.
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!
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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...
Peace,Chris