Chasing Kate

Wrapping it up. (11-8)

2007-11-15T01:35:00.000-08:00

2 years. Approximately 8.3% of my life so far. I’ve used 9 bottles of Kaopectate and only 5 bottles of shampoo. I’ve bathed approximately 240 days out of the last 830 days. That’s about twice a week- sometimes less. The longest I’ve gone without bathing is 17 days. I’ve been on 6 I.V.s – before Peace Corps I was on zero. I’ve had giardia, a bacteria infection, a viral infection and worms at the same time. I’ve almost been medi-vac’ed three times. During winter 2006, I finished season 5 of “24” in 18 hours—that’s without sleeping. I wrote and won 2 grants. I’ve lived with 3 families. I had 20 girls at my summer camp. I taught approximately 250 students in 7 different grades. The longest I consecutively slept was 22 hours. The number of times I’ve cried in the last week totals 13. I leave in 3 days.

I’ve experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. Absolute euphoria and absolute despair. Sometimes at the same time. I wish I had the number on how many marriage proposals I’ve had, how many people I’ve met or how many lives I’ve touched but those numbers are inherently incalculable.

The last Tuesday morning in my village was spent finding someone who could sew. My first go-to-girl was Tot Luba (Aunt Luba), since most Russians can do pretty much anything. I knocked on the door and asked her daughter if her mother knew how to sew, but she disappointingly said no. I enlisted the help of 3 children playing in the street if they could direct me to someone who knew how to sew. No avail. I finally went to one of the small stores in my village and asked a trusted woman to whom I could go. Oh. Right. The purpose of my pilgrimage was to turn a pair of pants into a pair of shorts. She told me to go to Skolnaya Ulitsia “School Street” to find Natasha, the village seamstress. I must have knocked on several fences and doors before I found someone who could direct me to her. I finally found her, introduced myself, brought her my pants and had her tailor them. By the time I was finished she was promising to write me letters in America and to make sure I visited her when I come back.

I thought of this story and how much sense it made to me at the time, then briefly recalled the life I knew back in America and how ridiculous it would seem to randomly knock on people’s doors to see if they could perform a certain skill. And how eager people were to help direct me towards someone who could.

Subsequently, I’ve thought of the absurdity it is that I’m in this village. Imagine you’re a local. Some person, some American, comes to your village, your home, with the promise to “transform” your school and your lives. No wonder we get hassled, strange looks and unwanted attention. Think of how weird it would be for this volunteer, this person, this no one, to come to your home and unrealistically expect them to change it for the better. We, as volunteers, try to impress upon people the ideas we have of positive sustainable change, however challenging that may be. Whether or not that’s our goal is arguable. Whether or not that ideal is attainable is arguable. Whether or not we try to, is personal.

Leaving was close to impossible. It's equally uplifting and heartbreaking to recall my last two years in the country but I know I will return to see my families, friends and students and to see how they've grown, changed and progressed. Some day soon, I hope.

Ages and Ages.

2007-10-27T03:28:00.000-07:00

It’s been ages since I posted so I’m assuming most of my readers (even the diligent ones) have stopped checking to see if I posted. I have several excuses for not writing, none of them being good ones, so I’ll skip over them and start from about where I left off.

This Life

I went back to my Russian family this past weekend, since recently I had been feeling doubtful, anxious and irresolute in general. They have a very Russian way of grounding me and setting me straight.

I woke up after an 11-hour slumber and my sister was cleaning the kitchen floor and she told me to go stroll in the garden until she finished. As I made my way through the gardens, I picked myself breakfast off the trees starting with at the apple orchard moving on to the plum trees and ending with the raspberry bushes.

I spent the day doing farm chores, hauling grass for the cows, feeding the chickens, and clearing the gardens but none of it felt like work, it’s always somehow therapeutic. It took me a long time to explain how my family in America usually goes to the country to pick their own fruit, peach picking, apple picking and cherry picking, as a leisurely activity. That is part of their livelihood so they don’t understand why we wouldn’t want someone else to do the work for us.

I came back just in time to see their new born calf, Zabava, I expected her to be shier but she was so friendly and curious to see what I was up to. After I finished hauling the last bushel of hay to the troughs I untied her and sat down to watch her (she’s tied up during the day so she doesn’t eat the vegetables or flowers in the gardens) to give her a chance to roam around. As I was sitting in the gardens watching her with my apron on with dirty hands waiting to be called for my banya, I couldn’t help but think that this life, this story, could have just as easily been mine.

Replacement

All summer long, volunteers were in the “placement frenzy”, where the K-15s would go, which K-13s would be replaced. Typically old and new volunteers shouldn’t overlap each other at site but since the Pre-Service Training was changed from Mid-Sept to early July due to logistical reasons, it forces the PCVs to overlap each other for 3 months. And for most communities of 2,000 people, two Americans (in my opinion) is one too many.

Most K-13s I know were lobbying pretty hard for a new volunteer at their site but it seemed that Peace Corps was intent on creating new (not tried and tested) sites. I was told that I wouldn’t be getting replaced on the same day that they told me I got a replacement. I was ecstatic, I love my community, it’s a great site, I maintain that it’s the best in Krygzstan and any volunteer should be lucky to get a site like mine.

No preceding volunteer wants to be outshined so I was secretly hoping for a good, but not great volunteer. I got a male, Kyrgyz speaker. A double whammy. All men are adored here and all Krygyz speakers are adored here. I figured they’d forget who I was before I even stepped on the plane. He came on a site visit and I gave my best cheerleadery advice to psych him up for a fun-filled 2 years. He was undoubtedly smart, friendly and seemed enthusiastic about being here.

On the day after swear-in, the day he was supposed to leave for site, instead of getting in a cab, he got on a plane for home. I was so offended. Was it something I said or didn’t say? Was it something I did or didn’t do? What went so wrong in 2 weeks? None of my questions were answered so it left my villagers and I to speculate about why he would leave.

Before I could be too disappointed about not getting another volunteer at my site, PC told me that another girl would be taking over instead. Phew. So much for being outshined though, she has taken 4 years of Russian in college. It was her major. This means that for the whole first year while I was working on a multiple-clause sentence, she’s already fluent. Great. I’m not that bitter though because it will make her experience exponentially easier since communication is pretty critical.

COS (Close of Service) Conference

The day the new volunteers arrived to site, the old ones were already starting the check-out process. The COS conference is the last training where we learn about how to reenter and reintegrate into life in America. I lived there for 22 years before I came here, should be like riding a bike, right? Apparently not. They gave us resume-writing advice, how and where to look for jobs that we’re qualified for (ha. we’re not), about medical and insurance policies and how to live in a way that’s socially acceptable to other Americans.

Out of the original group of 66 volunteers, only 30 of us were left. Almost 50%. The last time we were all together as a group was January 2006. Still unsure, still uncomfortable, still unknowledgeable about what our ultimate goals were here as Peace Corps volunteers. But this time, over a year and a half later, it was a celebration of each other, of our accomplishments, of our growth. We were finally at the point where we could congratulate each other as we recollected on the past two years, the struggles, the triumphs, and even the smallest successes. To come together again as a completely different group and hear about and reflect on all the good work that was done was probably one of the most positive experiences of my life.

Gymnasium Day

The school used the national holiday Gymnasium Day, as a way to welcome the new volunteer and a way to say goodbye to me. All of my previous students and teachers gathered into one small room to reflect on the importance of education and to demonstrate the efforts of their hard work. They performed skits, danced, sang and read speeches. They talked about what I had meant to them as a volunteer and the things I had achieved during my time here. The school presented me with their national souvenirs, a felt hat, vest, purse and a wooden and leather chess set. I must have been in several hundred pictures I’m pretty sure I have the same giddy smile in all of them. I gave a speech in Russian thanking everyone who helped me along the way and for being so patient with an American who came here knowing none of the language and very little about the culture. With a microphone in hand, addressing a few hundred people, I noticed this speech was different from other ones namely because I had a steady hand and a steady voice. I don’t think I can remember one word of what I said but hopefully I conveyed how much my students and faculty have meant to me, and how much I appreciate them opening me into their lives and hearts.

Afterwards, several teachers went to a café to celebrate and as I was sitting at the table, listening to all the stories, it occurred to me that I was finally one of them; something I have been working on for 2 years to achieve. We told stories, toasted each other and laughed and I promised them I would tell anyone willing to listen all about Kyrgyzstan and my experiences here.

Unemployment and Homelessness

Now that the new volunteer is in the village, I decided to give her space so she can establish herself in the community with as little interference from me as possible. I’m more than happy to answer any questions or give advice but in my experience every volunteer’s service is completely unique, even if it’s in the same village. For now I’m going guesting to all of the families that I’ve been close with, working on packing up and giving away 90% of my belongings and getting sorted with everything else. Nothing is more surreal than seeing 2 years of things be divided, sorted, packed and tossed. The purge has been something I’ve been looking forward to. I figure if I’m going to be homeless for the next couple months, it’s better to own as little as possible.

People ask me all the time to stay here and if I’m ready to leave. My answer is yes and no. It’ll be hard to leave a life behind that I’ve gotten so used to. It’s difficult knowing that it’s a possibility I may never return or see the people I’ve gotten so close to. I tell them that here I have a home and a job but in America I have neither. But I also tell them I am ready for something new. I’m ready to get reacquainted with my friends and the life that I left. People ask me about my next step, my future plans and I’m finally content to tell them that I have no clue and am in no rush to decide.

The Rest of my Life

2007-08-21T03:46:00.000-07:00

This week I’m back in my village placed on an all too familiar travel ban since the Shanghai Conference is taking place in Bishkek. No comment.

I’ve been going crazy since we should be finding out our COS (close of service) date soon, essentially counting down until we can officially start counting down. With all my projects pretty much finished (seminars, clubs, 2 grant projects, in-kind donations and a few camps) I feel like my job here is done especially since my replacement K-15 will arrive in 5 weeks. Volunteers tend to call this portion of our service “check-out time” and we’re all feeling pretty checked out. I knew the last three months in country would be difficult tying up loose ends but just sitting here in my village dreaming about the day I leave is driving me crazy.

All this free time to think is probably the hardest time because I’m anticipating a part of my life that don’t have any idea about. My short-term plan is to travel to SE Asia for a few months…and if it sounds like I’m just trying to further delay the ‘real world’, then you’re absolutely right. My goal is to get out of here as quickly as possible and to get home as late as possible (with at least 1/3 of my readjustment allowance in tact, Dad). It’s my long-term plans that I’m equally excited and terrified about. Desks make me want to hyperventilate.

Grad school? Perhaps, once I figure out what I want to study. Business school? Nothing would make my father happier. Culinary school? Why not, I’ve only been dreaming about it since I was 10. Sales? I’m good at it but do I love it? Real estate agent? Sounds like a good plan. Writer? I love to write! World-traveler? Absolutely, now how do I make that an occupation…

If you have any ideas or opinions about what job I would love and be good at, please feel free to guide me. Never mind that my undergrad degree in psychology (without a masters) is worthless and that the last 2 years of my life living in poverty in a small country in Central Asia has prepared me to… uhh? Right. I’m smart. I work hard. I’m creative and I need a job.

Hire me. Please.

I am a Builder.

2007-08-21T03:37:00.000-07:00

After winding down for a week and getting sorted I was ready to get on the move again. This time about 9 other volunteers headed to the south shore of the lake to do a build for Habitat for Humanity again this year. This year was completely different since we were broken down into two smaller groups since the projects were on smaller scales. Last year was all about bricks. Making bricks, cleaning bricks, hauling bricks, stacking bricks, laying bricks and breaking bricks. Physically the labor was harder last year and we accomplished more since 15 people worked on one house but we were equally productive this year and we were with a great family.

The first day we worked on building the inner walls of the house. We nailed small planks of wood to larger planks diagonally then we wrapped wire around the nails to create a chicken coup type of structure. None of us understood what this was for until they came in with buckets of mud and told us to let loose. Three of us stared at each other, sure that we didn’t understand the directions clearly until one of the project managers grabbed a fistful of mud and hurled it at the wall. The wood and wire, it seems, were a basis for the mud to adhere to. In order to get into the smaller holes, you had to fling the mud with considerable force. Just picture in your minds a 7 year olds dream. We tore off our gloves and went at it laughing because we were throwing it so hard it was going through the holes and hitting the wall behind it 12 feet away. None of us could believe that this was our job. They would periodically smooth it out so it resembled a wall rather than globs of mud and it turned out pretty well for such an unconventional system of wall building.

This year we did a lot of work with hammers, nails and wire. The hardest day was when we built a foundation for an addition to the house. The family didn’t think they’d be able to afford it but with the extra help they were certain they could finish it by winter. The last day, our rest day was coincidently my birthday. We went to the beach in the morning to relax then we took of for Karakol and took long, much-needed showers. My friends threw me a party complete with bacon cheeseburgers and box cake complete with Nutella frosting (really big deals for PCVs) and of course a lot of beer. It was a great week capped off with a great night and great friends.

In the summertime...

2007-07-24T19:42:00.000-07:00

...when the weather is hot, you can stretch right up and touch the sky...

I know I haven’t blogged in ages, I haven’t seemed to find a second for myself. All previous fears of being bored this summer have dissipated. I guess I’ll start from the top.

Mom’s visit: May 25th -June 15th

I give the girl quite a bit of credit. Traveling through Central Asia with a herniated disc would be enough to send anyone packing, but she stuck it out and did fairly well. Most parents arrive and leave within a week so 3 weeks was ample time to get acquainted with my home. We traveled everywhere and I have to say the highlight of my trip was to Arslenbob, one of the largest walnut forests in the world. It’s a small Uzbek village with friendly, welcoming people, gorgeous scenery and an awesome 5-hour hike to a waterfall in the mountains.

Translating was difficult and tedious (my brain only works in English or in Russian, not both) but it was also rewarding introducing her to all of the people that have made my time meaningful here. My Russian host family was overwhelmed since they’ve basically been preparing for her visit for 20 months. They made all of my favorite meals so we helped on the farm with daily chores and ate for pretty much 2 days straight.

I think she enjoyed putting faces to names the most since she’s heard so much about everyone that I spend my time with. I don’t think she’ll worry about me anymore now that she knows how I live and survive here. I’m so lucky and so glad that she came since this has been one of the most difficult challenges of my life and I’ll always be able to share some of my experiences with her.

My Camp: June 25th-29th

I was worried about the camp in my village because I basically had a week to pull it all together after my mom left. My zavooch (vice principal) and I did a mad dash to get things done but we were (barely) ready by Monday. Three other volunteers, Megan and Machalla were camp counselors with me and Ken helped out where needed (our gopher). Twenty girls showed up and everyday had a different theme: Arts and Crafts, Health, Gender/Leadership, Diversity and Ecology. We invited speakers from different NGOs and Peace Corps employees to talk about their experiences and fields of expertise. We played sports everyday but the highlight was definitely kickball once the girls got the hang of it. On the hottest day the girls filled up their bottles in the irrigation ditches and had a giant water fight, which turned out to be pretty refreshing even though I was completely drenched.

The only big problem was that I came down with a viral infection (go figure) and missed the entire day on Thursday since I was in medical from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m. I got up once for 15 minutes to walk around which took all of my energy. I knew I couldn’t miss the last and most important day, Ecology Day, where we took a field trip to a nearby National Park called Ala-Archa. So I packed an extra pair of clothes and hoped for the best. The week went by so fast and the biggest reward was at the end when the girls reflected on their experiences and told us how happy they were that they came.

The preparation took a lot of hard work but in the end it all paid off. I’ve helped with other people’s camps but I had more of an invested interest because I’ve known some of these girls from the beginning of my time here. This was by far the most valuable and rewarding thing I’ve done here.

Talas Camp: July 2nd- July 6th

Immediately after my camp was finished I went to another oblast, Talas to help out as a camp counselor there as well. The camp was on a much bigger scale since there were 60 boys and girls at an overnight camp, which took place at a former Young Pioneer’s campground. The boys and girls were split into two different cabins and about 25 girls were packed in two big rooms with beds so close they were practically touching. Each volunteer in Talas invited around 5 of their best students and then they were split up into 6 different teams.

In the morning there were different sessions pertaining to that day’s theme and in the afternoon we did arts and crafts and played sports and in the evenings the kids had some free time and every night we got the whole camp involved in a different activity, we played capture the flag, held a disco and had a bon fire. The campsite also had a river so I jumped in and “bathed” at least once a day. The days were long and exhausting but so fun. It made all of the volunteers want to attend a camp our own. The only upsets were that I lost in the watermelon eating contest (I was robbed) and my team lost in the semi-finals in the kickball tournament.

The last night the volunteers held a celebration of our own and made good use of all the left over kool-aid.

After the Talas camp I think I slept for 2 days straight. I had been running nonstop since my Mom got here on May 25th and the Talas camp finished on the 6th of July. There has been a mass exodus of volunteers this summer, they all moved on to different places and different jobs. We lost 4 more and will C.O.S. (close of service) with less than 50%. We’re getting t-shirts made. It’s been really bad for morale and only makes all of the volunteers left in country dream about our lives beyond Kyrgyzstan. 4 more months seems like nothing compared to what we’ve gone through but I have a feeling the last 2 months will seem like the longest yet.

The K-15s arrived in country on June 10th and I haven’t seen or met any of them and unfortunately I wasn’t able to give the Diarrhea Talk this year. I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it to their PST or not but hopefully I’ll get a replacement volunteer because I love my students, my school and my site and I think they deserve to get another volunteer.

Yesterday I lost another really important person in my life here, my old host sister Jildes. She left to work at the American Air Base in Afghanistan as either a cashier or a waitress. For her it will be good money at around 300 dollars a month, money that she wouldn’t be able to make here, plus she’ll get more experience speaking English. It was much harder to say goodbye than I thought it would be. It only hit me when I was hugging her that I may never see her again. I hope to come back here, I hope that she is able to come to America but you never know what’s going to happen.

This summer has gone by ten times faster than last summer, mostly due to the fact that I have a new host sister that’s willing to take every passing second that I devote to her. Luckily we found the village pool that I never went to last summer. It’s more like a village lake with concrete walls. The water comes from mountain water runoff so I’d like to think it’s fresh but I think I’m fooling myself. Megan asked what was so wrong with it, if the bottom is really dirty or something. I laughed and told her that you can’t even see the bottom. It’s pretty jankey but I love it and it’s just what I need to survive a sweltering summer. Hard to believe that it’s already half way over.

I think my father...

2007-06-22T06:29:00.000-07:00

is trying to tell me something about my travel plans when I'm finished.

Begin Lecture........ This is not a reason to spend all of your PeaceCorp wages (actually, it occurred to me to tell you that the IRS would take 30% of your income, because of some dubious foreign work rule, so that you would save some of your earnings). You know you will have a place to stay and food, when you get home (good Daddy - peroigies), but you are on your own for the rest, including clothes, entertainment and a car. I know this may sound a little harsh, but it is fair and we will get off on the right foot if we all know the ground rules way in advance of your return. However, we won't serve sheep fat and if you remember, all of the toilets are located in the house and there is plenty of hot running water.......End Lecture.

Upgrade

2007-05-23T20:10:00.001-07:00

Well I finally did what I said I was going to do since March 2006- I moved. I finally learned exactly how much I could tolerate and put up with and living with a never-before-disciplined three year-old is where I draw the line. Last Wednesday I loaded up every last little belonging on my tileshka (wheelbarrow) and it’s added up to quite a bit (thanks to all the packages I’ve gotten!). All day I moved back and forth answering all my neighbors questions, “where are you going? Are you leaving? Will we still see each other? What happened? Did they offend you? Did you have a fight?” I politely declined to answer any questions that may put my family in a negative light. They have already been shamed enough in my village from having their American move out- undoubtedly because of something they did.

So I moved down the street to another family. I live in a “townhouse” in the way that you all understand it, 2 stories, bedrooms on the top floor, kitchen and living room downstairs. All in all I say: upgrade. I have running water (from morning until 5 p.m.), and an indoor toilet, both conveniences I’ve gotten used to living without but make daily life just that much more comfortable. The family is great, they’ve already proven that they’re much more willing to give than take (a complete 180 from my other host family). The mom heard from the daughter that I love to bake so they went out and bought a brand new, functioning oven since their old one was broken. It felt like Christmas. So there’s a mom, a dad, an aunt, a 17-year-old boy and a 10-year-old girl. The mom and dad are building a new house so they’re never here and the aunt is in charge of overseeing everything while they’re gone. I’m already in love with the 10-year-old girl, Elena. She’s so adorable and makes me laugh all the time. My mom commented that she’s surprised she does not annoy me, hanging around me all the time, but the truth is that this is the family that I wanted from the very beginning. I love kids around the 9-15 age because they already have their own personality and sense of humor.

It was a huge decision emotionally, whether or not to stay or go but I know I made the right choice. When you’ve counted how long I’ve been here, 6 months left seems like nothing, but to me it was worth my peace and quiet to get acquainted to a new family in a new place and although I’ve only been here a week, it already feels like home.

Service

2007-05-23T20:08:00.000-07:00

Well a couple weeks ago we FINALLY bought the computers from my Peace Corps Partnership Grant. I wrote the grant in September and it didn’t even get posted until January (it’s supposed to take ten days) so my ability to be patient has grown exponentially. Perfect timing though, my school hasn’t had electricity for a month. They’re not set up but when they are I’ll be sure to take pictures. Since it was my first project I definitely learned what and what not to do so I’m hoping that my next projects will go more smoothly.

I also got another grant funded by US Aid to renovate my school’s library. We will clean, paint and repair the library and put in 7 new bookcases, 10 new chairs and 4 new tables. I also have a generous donation coming in from Paul VI Catholic High School of $200 to pay for the shipping for 5 boxes of books supplied by Books for International Goodwill.

I’ve reached the point where I finally feel productive. Two years is a long time but now I understand why it’s such a long commitment; volunteers don’t have the know-how and ability to get things accomplished until the second year.

My summer plans are shaping up pretty well too, my mom will be here tomorrow for 3 weeks, I’ll be involved in a few summer camps, hopefully I’ll have the opportunity to do Habitat for Humanity again and I think a few volunteers and I will be going on a 7-day horse trek from Naryn oblast to Osh oblast. Time is already flying by and I have a feeling November will be here before I even realize it.

The Bitter Pill

2007-04-27T00:53:00.000-07:00

Due to political instability that I’m not allowed to talk about I haven’t been allowed out of my village for over 3 weeks. This may not seem like a big deal, and I’m sure volunteers from Turkmenistan and Kazakhstan would be aghast to hear me complain about not seeing another American for that amount of time, especially since those countries are more than twice as big as Kyrygzstan with half as many volunteers. But for me, this is the longest consecutive amount of time that I’ve been in my village without leaving and I’ve been going stir crazy. If I had read one more book or watched one more movie, I probably would have gone certifiably insane. I don’t even think it’s the fact that I was there so much as I didn’t even have the option to leave, the lack of choice.

So the travel ban has been lifted, I know I don’t blog that much anymore but that’s the reason I haven’t had any contact with anyone for that amount of time. I’ve been particularly frustrated because I have 4 simultaneous projects going on right now and I need the Internet for 3 of them so I felt like a lot of things just came to a halt. At least now I can get caught up.

I managed to finish seasons 4 and 5 of the show 24 within that time and I have to comment on how shameless the writers and producers have become. Saving a little girl’s life by having Jack Bauer give her his gas mask? Ridiculous. Look, we already know he’s a hero, let’s not get crazy here. We watch this show to see him break terrorists’ necks with his thighs while hanging from water pipes, not see him tuck children into bed and tell them bedtime stories. The producers don’t market the show to children, so why are they acting like that’s who their audience is?

And what’s with the new trend to spell out words in songs? It should have ended with Gwen’s song that drove me b-a-n-a-n-a-s. Save the spelling bees for those nerds whose mother’s life long goal is for their children to appear on ESPN for the national spelling bee championships. You don’t impress anybody with your ability to spell words. That’s why you’re a singer in the first place; we already know you’re not smart.

Hah. See? It’s in no one’s best interest to keep me isolated for that amount of time. We have seen winter’s wrath and it may not be bitterly cold but now I’m just bitter. Someone please send me season 6 of 24 and an e-hug.

The Black Sheep

2007-04-27T00:50:00.000-07:00

Growing up, my family always made it abundantly clear that I was the black sheep. It was always obvious to everyone, including me, that I wasn’t one of them. My brother told the lie that all big brothers tell, that I was adopted. Except my family decided to play along with it long enough for me to question whether or not I actually was.

I know we’re not supposed to compare ourselves to other people but growing up it was hard not to since my brother was the son that every parent always dreamed of having. Even in pre-school, Mrs. Simmons called attention to my mother that I wasn’t enough like my big brother who always did what he was told, always sat quietly and always played nice with the other kids. She said that I was more interested in playing with the art supplies while I was supposed to be singing, or dancing when I was supposed to be building blocks. And I yelled at the girl who took away my Snow White book, all things my beloved big brother would never even dream of doing according to our pre-school teacher.

In middle school and high school I was of course the troublemaker, the one with the chip on her shoulder since I was forced to attend a school that I didn’t want to go to. For college, I had always wanted to go to William and Mary but of course that’s where my brother went because I always played a little harder than I worked.

Even now, my brother is on the fast-track to investment banking. He knows exactly what he wants to do with his life and which steps need to be taken to get there. Even after being here for two years, I still don’t have a clear idea about what I want to do with my life. It’s not that I don’t have any ideas, it’s that I have too many and each idea is more radically different than the next. Plus I’m still trying to figure out how to make “world-traveler” into a profession. Most people in my family (except for my mother) still don’t understand exactly what I’m doing in Krygyzstan, why I would join Peace Corps in the first place and how I’ve managed to stay here this long after everything I’ve been through.

So far, I’m happy with what I’ve done with my life and who I’ve become even though I had a hell of a time getting here and still have a lot of work that needs to be done before I get to where I ultimately want to be. Everyday I pass sheep on my way to school and every time I see them, I smile to myself and feel smart to know that being a black sheep isn’t always a bad thing.

I Got Nothing.

2007-04-04T22:52:00.000-07:00

I think my sensitivity to my outside surroundings is numbing. You know that age-old saying “it was nothing to write home about” well I guess I have to say, “it was nothing to blog about”. It’s becoming increasingly more difficult to write interesting stories or experiences that may be unusual to my regular readers so if I’m boring you, I apologize. Hopefully these few stories are entertaining, if they aren’t I invite you to stop reading all together.

I was chased by two different cows twice this week, which is particularly scary since they don’t cut off the horns like they do in America. One was bucking it’s head up and down, closing the distance between us and my neighbors got a real kick out of me screaming and running away like a little girl. When I first got here, I felt like such an idiot when I asked where the all girl cows were. I got a few quizzical looks until someone informed me that bulls aren’t the only ones with horns. Haha. Whoops.

Last fall when tomatoes were still abundantly plentiful one of my student’s mothers invited me over to help can them. I felt like Betty Crocker herself learning how to preserve veggies and was exceptionally proud of myself. Too bad this skill will go entirely to waste since we can get tomatoes year round at home. Speaking of which, I haven’t eaten a fresh tomato since when I was in Thailand.

One volunteer found Oreos. OREOS! They were in a Chinese market in the very back on the bottom shelf (hiding them from us gluttonous Americans, no doubt). They packaging was in Chinese but Oreos were clearly written across the front in the classic Nabisco letters. Naturally I bought as many packages as I could carry (as gifts, people). I opened one when I got home enjoying the chocolaty goodness when I tested my abilities at reading Chinese. On one side of the package it was clearly marked, calories: 2,050KJ per 100 grams. I scanned the package in a panic to find out how many grams where in the entire package. 150. My mouth dropped open at the possibility that I just consumed over 2,000 calories in less than 5 minutes. And I wasn’t even finished. I was only done with half. Well I figured, what the hell, might as well finish them, what’s another 1,000 calories at that point, right? Luckily thanks to Google, I found out that Oreos are only 55 calories each and each package contained 7- 385 calories is still a lot, don’t get me wrong but not as bad as say, 3,000. For you health nuts, one Oreo can be burned off in 7 minutes of walking. If that’s not incentive, I don’t know what is.

So cows, tomatoes and Oreos, that’s all I got. For you avid readers, I’ll try harder next time.

Cluck-Cluck

2007-03-26T22:17:00.000-07:00

Today there was a live chicken on the marshrutka. My one true dream here has finally come true. I even did a fist pump in my mind.

PROJECT FUNDED!

2007-03-09T22:28:00.000-08:00

I just wanted to let everyone know that my grant got fully funded and I would like to wish a sincere thanks to everyone who contributed!

Specifically, I would like to thank my friends since I know they have so little to give (like me), my friend's friends, my family, friends of family, my Father's business associates and my Mother's EPS friends. Because of you and your generosity, I can now purchase four computers, a printer and a scanner for the students in my village. This will allow them to be more competitive in a limited job market and will ultimately lead to better futures.

Thanks again, I can't tell you how much it your contributions are appreciated.

The Welcome Tour.

2007-03-05T22:37:00.000-08:00

I must say that Craig’s visit was largely successful. It was actually perfect timing as I had already had some travel plans to visit Naryn, another part of the country to participate in Diversity Week, a seminar to demonstrate how all Americans are inherently different and that we’re not all rich and beautiful (a concept, no doubt that is transmitted by the exports from Hollywood). Matt, a K-13 volunteer inherited the annual project at Naryn State University and held a 5 days symposium that had different panels of speakers including an Asian-American panel, a man’s panel and a women’s panel just to name a few. I took part in the women’s panel and also had a 30 minute time slot to talk about my favorite subject: myself. (Just kidding). I really had no idea what to say so I highlighted where I’m from, where I went to college, what I studied and that pretty much every job I’ve ever had I’ve worked with kids. I then opened it up for questions and was astounded by the student’s inquiries, here are a few that I remember: What is love? What do you do when you get angry? How do you solve your problems? My first instinct was to answer, “How the hell do I know?” But I tried to articulate my thoughts and opinions in a manner that would make sense to everyone including myself, but I must say it was pretty difficult being put on the spot by 40+ students, faculty and volunteers. It was a really interesting experience and I was so impressed by the student’s curiosity, attentiveness and level of dedication to the English program in Naryn.

In Bishkek I was spoiled rotten by doing all the things I can’t normally afford on a volunteer’s salary. We went to the Opera, splurged for the good seats at 150 sohm a pop, ate at the city’s best restaurants and strolled around the square. I taught during the week and even woke Craig up one morning to be my lesson plan for my best class, which gave them an opportunity to talk with another native English speaker. He got to meet a bunch of volunteers that came up to Bishkek for a training seminar and best of all (in my opinion) I was just able to enjoy his company.

I’m just speculating but I think the highlight of the trip was when Craig bought a sheep for my host family then helped them slaughter it. This is a huge tradition in Kyrgyzstan and usually momentous occasions and sheep slaughtering go hand in hand. I don’t want speak for him but I think the entire experience for him was in a word, shocking. We went to go get the sheep from a neighbor and they had some string out, Craig turned to me and said, “see if they want me to walk him home.” I was like, Craig, first of all, there are no leashes here and second of all, they’re tying its legs together, I’m pretty sure it’s going in the trunk of the car, which it was. So we get home, and they round up some men and they get to work. I’ve seen sheep slaughterings before and I have to say it’s not exactly something I enjoy but something I can now tolerate way better than when I first got here. Actually, the hardest part for me is just when they slit its throat. After they start to skin it and it starts resembling meat more than an animal I can disassociate it from the fact that it was running around in front of me ten minutes earlier.

As more time passed, the more comfortable the other men got with Craig helping out. They handed him a knife, told him where to cut, when and where to snap the leg and when to scoop the leftover blood from the chest cavity into a bowl. At one point the men were laughing and joking about how they should scare Craig by ripping off a testicle from the sheep and eating it raw. I thought everyone was joking and in good humor but before I knew what was going on, one of the guys slivered off a piece of fat from the sheep’s butt (a delicacy) and held it out to Craig- before the classic “noooooo….” escaped my lips, he grabbed it from the guy's hand and shoved it in his mouth. (He’s never one to back down from a dare.) I was just waiting for it to come back up and I wasn’t sure if it was safe or healthy but felt at least a little relieved when one of the other men followed suit. I guess he’s not one to back down either. As kid who grew up in New York, Craig had never even been on a farm before so I think this was quite an experience.

I think one of the most difficult things for me was not being able to recall what it was like for me to experience things for the first time in order to relate to what he was going through. I couldn’t remember how I felt or what I thought and I’ve become so used to my daily routine that I realized that the novelty of being here has worn off and how I’m living and existing here instead. For many volunteers this is considered a huge success for integration and assimilation but for me, it was somewhat frustrating because somewhere along the way the appreciative value of being here has been diminished. In a lot of ways, he reintroduced me to all the things I love about being here especially the things that I reduced to daily nuisances like shopping in the bazaar. It’s so easy to adopt a “get in and get out alive” mentality but if you take your time and take in what you’re seeing you’d be so surprised at what you’d be able to find (popcorn kernels!). I’m grateful I was able to show around such an open-minded and positive person because it gave me a chance to see this country again through someone else’s eyes. And to be honest, I was in serious need of a fresh look.

I still have a hard time believing he was even here. It was such a whirlwind two weeks, I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything. It meant so much to me that someone would be willing to come so far to see me and to experience where I’ve been living and what I’ve been doing for the last year and a half. From the beginning I said that he would be one of two people who I would ever imagine visiting me here (besides someone related to me), but I’m still surprised he came. I didn’t ask him but I hope he enjoyed his stay, I hope he’s glad he came, I hope he took something away from being here and I hope that he was as glad to see me as I was to see him.

And Craig, if you’re reading this, I’ll see you soon.

This is the guy.

2007-02-10T01:20:00.000-08:00

This is the guy who I told the first time we met, "you do realize that we have to spend the rest of our lives together, right?"

This is the guy who bought wipe-on sex appeal out of vending machine in a bar (like he even needs it).

This is the guy who asked me on a Monday night if I wanted to fly with him to Tasmania on Tuesday.

This is the guy who upon our arrival to Tasmania insists that we take a limo to our hostel.

This is the guy who cliff-jumps off rocks into a gorge with me in our skivvies then gets told by an elderly couple, "don't try to be anybody's heroes."

This is the guy who agreed with me that, "we're nobody's heroes."

This is the guy who makes me veer off hiking paths with him, turning a 3 hour hike into a 9 hour adventure.

This is the guy who dropped a grand for a night out on the town after he passed his actuary exam.

This is the guy whose only furniture was a hammock for the first 6 months he lived in an apt.

This is the guy who bartended in Fire Island wearing NOTHING but an apron.

This is the guy who has seen my good, bad, worse, and better and always laughs at me when appropriate.

This is the guy who makes me laugh so hard that I accidentally dove backwards into an automatic door that opened and closed until he picked me up.

This is the guy who quit his job, sold his car and moved to England because being stable and secure for 2 years was all he could take.

This is the guy who the words thoughtful, generous, and kind apply to him but whose personality does more justice to him than adjectives ever could.

This is the guy who buys a plane ticket 2 days before he comes to Kyrgyzstan to see me because as he said, "do you really think I could go two years without seeing you?"

In short, this is the guy, a best friend who I met in Australia and although we've only known each other for 4 short years, our history makes it seem like I've known him my whole life.

This is the guy. This is Craig.

Strike A Pose

2007-02-04T00:26:00.000-08:00

I’ve gotten a couple questions on whether or not I’ve seen Borat or read Absurdistan. I’m pretty sure I’m not allowed to comment on the content of either without serious repercussions but the answer is yes. To both. I think it’s interesting about the timing of all this and how Central Asia is becoming (dare I say) en vogue? Granted most of the foreigners I met in Turkey and Thailand still think I live in Kurdistan and some of you still think I’m in Kazakhstan or even worse, Russia (you know who you are) but after the increased media attention, people are going to start to take notice of all the –stans rather than just lumping them together as the Former Soviet Union. I was watching the second season of West Wing and they even pronounced the country correctly… now if only we can get our current news anchors to do the same.

I guess that closes this edition of my popular culture review. I actually didn’t feel so out of the loop this time. By the way, in Borat, the –rat is pronounced with a long o sound (as in the word got) not with a nasal a sound (as is in the word apple). After 16 months of living here I know I’ve learned that much. Don’t make me laugh at you when I get back.

Grant update:

Thanks again to everyone who has contributed to my project, I'm doing well and I only have about 500-600 dollars left to go. Thanks to everyone who has been getting the word out about it with any luck in a few months it will be fully funded.

The Promised Land

2007-01-26T20:04:00.001-08:00

First off, let me just say that Thailand should be renamed “The Promised Land”. I arrived in the evening and was a bit weary after a long flight until I made it to my room and did not feel the least bit childish when I did a running belly flop on my king size bed and barrel-rolled my way over the mountains of pillows. I changed out of my airplane clothes and went to check out one of the several restaurants in the hotel. My first stop was at the outdoor restaurant and as soon as I saw the sushi bar, 3 giant bowls of crab claws, jumbo shrimp and mussels on ice I said a little too audibly “sign me up”. I decided not to ask for the prices and would beg my father for forgiveness later. I ate more than a frat boy at a Vegas buffet and it was worth every bite, especially because I refuse to eat seafood in Kyrgyzstan, a landlocked country. After my self-induced food coma I was contemplating my plans for the next day. I arrived a couple days before my parents did and I had big ambitions for my first day in country. I thought I’d maybe do some shopping, some strolling, and some soaking in the culture, country and food. Nope. I didn’t even make it out the hotel front door. The Hilton Millennium was newly built and quite far from any of the main attractions in Bangkok which made my decision not to leave fairly easy… especially after I saw the pool. The hotel had an infinity pool on the fourth floor looking out over the river with sun chairs wading in about 6 inches of water- my ideal vision of heaven if you know me well. The next morning I turned my television on, watched programs (in English!!) and helped myself to a complete, well-balanced breakfast from the minibar- a package of Oreos- then made my way down to the pool at about 9 a.m. The waiter brought me a pineapple guava cocktail on a silver tray (literally) and I wondered what I’d ever done to deserve this.

And that was just day one.

Mom and Dad arrived shortly after midnight a day or so later (so easy to lose track of time) and I waited in the lobby so I could ambush and tackle-hug them to the ground as soon as I saw them. Mom and I cried, predictably, you would have never thought that we talk on the phone at least a few times a week. We spent the day in Bangkok mostly riding around in a tuk-tuk (a motorcycle with a roof, two sides and a bench hanging off the back of it) seeing the main sights, the Grand Palace which was pretty impressive yadda yadda yadda.

We wasted no time getting to Phuket- a dream of mine since four years ago after listening to two of my Australian friends talking about buying a house there. We stayed at a resort on Karon Beach and everyday the hardest decision I had to make was whether to beach myself poolside or Oceanside for the remainder of the day. I didn’t bring my running shoes in vain this time (if you remember from Turkey I tore a ligament after being there for only a day, yeah, the discotheque) and enjoyed myself while running on a treadmill almost everyday, overlooking a waterfall and not having to worry about carrying rocks or sticks to chase off dogs or have people laughing, pointing or staring at me while trying to get in my cardio. It was not a breath of fresh air; it was a thousand breaths of fresh air. And I didn’t mind the hot, sticky, humid heat because all I had to do was remind myself that the streets in Bishkek are coated with a 3 inch layer of ice that won’t melt away till mid-March so I didn’t mind the sweating, not one bit.

We snorkeled, swam and I even managed to squeeze in a Thai massage in a beach-side tent. I have to say that having my body contorted in different positions may have been awkward for the onlookers but I was enjoying myself too much to care. One day we did a boat tour to a few different islands one of them being the place where “The Beach” was filmed, that terrible Leonardo DiCaprio movie that had a lot of potential in the beginning but fizzled as soon as they introduced the video game sequence (Tiff, Lib, I know you know what I’m talking about). As pretty as it was on film, it was even better in person…. sans shark attacks. We had more plans to do a kayaking tour but unfortunately due to two bouts of food poisoning my parents were out of commission for two days at two separate times. You’d think they’d be able to coordinate that, sheesh. I thought I was supposed to be the sick one- I guess after all those parasites I finally built up some kind of immunity to them. At least got something out of it- what a relief!

All in all, Phuket far exceeded my (unrealistically high) expectations and I think most of it had to do with being with my parents for the holidays. I spent the last Christmas with friends but I hope I’ll never have to be away from family again. There was no Christmas tree but almost every coconut tree had strings of pearly white lights dangling from their branches and it made the place look sweeter than frosting.

My father could only take so much time off work so he boarded a plane home and my mom and I continued on to Chaing Mai. Our hotel was in the heart of the night bazaar and we perused the never-ending stalls of jewelry, clothes, scarves, laquerware and purses until we couldn’t see straight. I’m a terrible shopper, I’m indecisive, I’m a hard bargainer and I’m easily distracted by anything sparkly or shiny. I’m sure my mother had it with me after an hour but she stuck in there, dragged in a thousand directions so I could find that one thing that I saw that other day which may be in that direction, no wait, that one…

We recovered from shopping with three hour Thai massages (Dad, I swear it was Mom’s idea…) which I was pretty impressed with, especially when my masseuses wrapped her legs around my calves, stood on my thighs and walked her hands up and down my back in one swift, painless movement. I wanted to watch her but didn’t want to alarm her with the curious,” what’s going on here” look on my face. I also must say my mother looked adorable in her little Thai pajamas.

One day we wandered around and made it up to a temple on a mountaintop and I wished I had remembered more from the Buddhist Thought class I took one semester in college. It was very impressive but very crowded since it was New Year’s Day and Chaing Mai was the main travel destination for Thai people.

On my last day I decided to go to the Royal Flower Show (I was shopped-out), a huge exhibit to pay tribute to the King for his 60th birthday. I can’t even imagine the amount of planning, building and effort that went into putting this together. The outside looked like an amusement park. The walking tour was over 7 miles long that wound around different themed gardens including corporate, international and national exhibitions and a rare orchid competition. I moseyed around for hours trying to soak in the different displays. They built a temple in the center of the garden show and in the background was a giant white Buddha statue nestled into the mountains overlooking the exposition. I feel like I’m not doing justice to describing the place but the only word that I can think of to sum it up is ‘unreal’.

I guess that brings us back to Bangkok. My mom and I had no real plans or agenda but no matter what we did, it was a luxury, something I can’t do here. We went to go see a movie (in English!), went to a mall, all things that no rational person would do on vacation but things that I haven’t done in a year and a half and things that I don’t have the opportunity to do. Of course we did the standard Bangkok-touristy things like getting lost in Chinatown but I was just as happy sitting by the pool (which we also did one day).

My friend Jordan (was a PCV in Kyrgyzstan but got medically separated) decided to come to Thailand to meet my friends Tana, Tim and Andy who were arriving on the same plane from Almaty that I was leaving on. I was able to talk him into coming couple days early to spend with me since I was going to be in Bangkok alone (Mom’s flight left earlier than mine). We went to the weekend market, which put any other shopping experience I’ve ever had in my life to shame. We went back to Chinatown; we went to a temple but took it slow since he was jet-lagged. Mostly it just felt good to pal around with an old friend and it was like he never even left Kyrgyzstan. He was definitely the cherry on top of an amazing vacation.

So now I’m back. I’m actually surprised to say that it was easier to come back than I originally anticipated. I’ve settled back into my routine and was genuinely glad to see my students and was received at my school with smiles and open arms and people shouting Happy New Year to me down the street and in the halls. My first few days my students bombarded me with questions about my trip and my parents and they said that they missed me while I was gone. The strangest part of all this is that being here doesn’t feel foreign to me anymore. This finally feels like home to me- and that’s a feeling worth being back for.

Grant Update:

Thank you to everyone who contributed to my Grant, in 3 weeks I’ve collected over 50% of the money I need and have only $625 dollars left to go. I know a lot of my friends are in a similar financial situation that I’m in (i.e. poor) but if you are unable to contribute at this time, the next best thing that you could do would be to pass the information on to someone willing or able to contribute. Thanks again to everyone, I really appreciate your generosity.

Shout Outs:

Thanks to everyone who sent me Christmas packages and letters, coming back to a stack of them was the best feeling ever. Even the post office ladies were happy for me!

Ang and Joe- Thanks so much for everything. I got one package right before I left and one right after I got back. You’re going to spoil me!! This will definitely help me get through the winter though I love you guys and really appreciate it.

The Sugarman Family- the stack of books will definitely keep me busy for quite some time- you guys know me too well! And I just got your second package full of delicious goodies! I have to say everything from Harry and David didn’t last long. It was such a nice surprise, thank you so much!

Donate Now!

2007-01-03T03:19:00.000-08:00

FINALLY! My grant has been approved, which is great news. My school's computers are ancient and I wanted to give an opportunity to my students to learn computer skills, which will make them more marketable for better jobs and more challenging careers. But, this is where I could use your help... my project still needs funding. If you or anyone you know would be able to contribute as little as $10 it would be a great help to this cause. You can be assured that 100% of your contribution dollars will help fund the purchase of 4 computers, a printer and a scanner. The best part of all, your donation is tax deductible.

If you want to help, please donate. Click on the link to the right that says "Contribute to my Project" this will lead you to the Peace Corps website and a description of my project. At the bottom of the page, it says contribute to this project then on the next site you can enter the amount of your contribution and provide your credit card information. Thank you in advance for your support on this important project. Your donation will help make a difference in the future of my students.

Edit: 1-14-07

There is no way for me to find out (unless you tell me) who my contributors are or how much you all contribute so don't worry about me judging you on how much you love me monetarily. Thanks again!

D-Day

2006-12-17T22:38:00.000-08:00

I'm leaving for Almaty tomorrow and for Bangkok on Wednesday and I couldn't be any more ready. After a series of events I've decided I need to vacate the premises of this country- immediately- I thought I could get away scot-free but it turns out I came down with an (annual) bought of strep throat. Go figure. With that said, I am fully medicated and ready to run barefoot along the white, sandy beaches in Phuket. So actually, I still will have a White Christmas.

I know I haven't been great about blogging lately, I have a bunch of topics I want to touch on but my laptop crashed and my ADD when I'm on the Internet is worse than ever, which is why I haven't posted. I thought my ipod died (yes, I have one, and I hear your groans, Jared). And for a few days I thought I really knew how it felt to be a Peace Corps Volunteer in the 70s, that is until my mother called... on my cell phone.

Anyways, I wish my family, friends and non-related readers Happy Holidays filled with lots of warmth and love. And think,by this time next year, I'll be back to celebrate Christmas in the rightful place... at home.

Christmas in Phuket

2006-11-14T02:25:00.000-08:00

Well, it's finalized. I'm going to Thailand. I have actually known about the trip for 5-6 months now and my parents have had their tickets but I have been waiting (and miserably frustrated) for my confirmation to come through. Well now I don't have to worry anymore, they're in my possession and I plan on sleeping with them under my pillow until my departure. Once again, the parents have come through. Thanks Mom and Dad, you're the best.

Comic Relief

2006-10-19T23:45:00.000-07:00

After finishing teaching an important grammar topic that I knew would be difficult for my students, I asked them several times if they had any questions. To really drive the point home, I said (in Russian) if you have questions, ask them right now not later. I almost lost my breakfast when one of my students asked straight-faced (in Russian), "Where do babies come from?"

Edit (11.2.06) to answer Jenny T's question:

I'm not sure if my answer would be grammatically correct but I could start off with the old, "when a man loves a woman" line...

How American can you get?

2006-10-07T03:01:00.000-07:00

Today another volunteer and I ran a 5K in Bishkek for an organization called Alpine Fund which helps orphans by taking them hiking and camping into the mountains. I was worried because I am probably in the worst shape of my life but we didn't come in last so that's the most important thing. There were only about 50 of us running and we certainly got weird looks but let's be honest, we were only doing it for the t-shirts.

After the run we went to a small coffee shop that we just discovered and had the best coffee I've had in a year and little deli sandwiches with pastrami (completely unheard of). We felt like we were practically in America. I don't know if it was the endorphins or the coffee but today we both found ourselves in the best moods ever. If it's anything I've found, it doesn't take a lot to make me happy here.

Snap, Crackle and Pop Culture

2006-09-28T23:20:00.000-07:00

Being in Kyrgyzstan I have found that I’m pretty out of touch with American pop culture. Even though 50 cent and Shakira are ubiquitous here, I still miss out on quite a bit and I have already accepted the fact that I am going to be like a Martian when I get home. Maybe it’s just as well, I have seen the direction that music and movies are headed and I’m definitely not missing Reality TV. I cannot help but confer my thoughts on the current state of music. Well, maybe not current to you, but current to me. Without further ado, here is my 2006 Year-In-Music Review. If you’re not interested in music or know less than I do (highly unlikely) I suggest you skip this entry entirely.

Let’s start off with James Blunt. The only way I can describe listening to him is to compare it to watching a bad car accident: you know you should stop but you can’t seem to pull yourself away from the catastrophe. If his songs were travesties then he’d be a genius but I think he’s actually trying to be serious. Let’s review some lyrics from the song ‘Goodbye My Lover’- “I’ve kissed your lips I’ve held your hand, shared your dreams and shared your bed. I know you well, I know your smell, and I’m addicted to you.” I’m sorry- what? You know my smell? Is he kidding? I don’t know if it makes me want to laugh or cry but I find myself giggling uncontrollably when I listen to this song. Maybe because I know my smell and I can’t imagine anyone else would ever memorize it. Another good line is, “I’ve seen you cry, I’ve seen you smile, I’ve watched you sleeping for awhile, I’d be the father of your child.” Uh… creepy! Do people actually fall for this? Do girls actually think this is romantic? Am I the only one that finds this hilarious?? The only time I listen to his album is when I’m feeling down and I need a good laugh. It’s so unintentionally funny I almost think the joke is on us for taking him seriously.

I discovered my next selection on a Running Mix that my cousin sent me (thanks Linds!). Eminem’s new song ‘Shake That’ is misogynistic, derogatory, offensive, depreciating, and I absolutely love it. I can’t get enough of it. Besides having a good beat the lyrics are straight to the point. I can’t quote any lyrics here on my blog without some serious repercussions but I highly recommend this song. It not only sets a good pace when I run but I really do find it encouraging to “shake it”. This gem isn’t going anywhere for a while.

Moving on… the next song I heard over and over again at clubs in Turkey and it’s also very addicting- Madonna’s Hung Up. I was actually surprised to find out that’s she’s still alive but when I caught about 30 seconds of the video on Russian MTV it rendered me speechless. She looks younger than ever and she rocked that leotard like no one’s business! The video also teaches a very important lesson: Spandex is a privilege, not a right.

My brother sent me "Where'd you go" by Fort Minor. The lyrics first start off with, “Where’d you go? I miss you so. Seems like it’s been forever since you’ve been gone, please come back home.” When I first heard it, I almost teared up when I listened to how appropriate the words were. I thought it was so thoughtful until I remembered the source… my brother. I had guessed correctly that it was a complete accident and that he hadn’t intended to send it and he hadn’t even considered the lyrics. Coming from anyone else, it would have been the sweetest gesture but now the song is ruined for me. Too bad, it’s a pretty good song.

Lastly, Stadium Arcadium, the latest album by none other than Red Hot Chili Peppers, is seriously life changing. I have not one critique of any of the songs on either album. If anyone needs a good example of perfection, this is it. It’s unlike anything I’ve heard in a really long time and I can’t imagine hearing anything better in my lifetime. I know, I know, these are pretty strong words but I’ll stand by them. This is one of the most innovative, heartfelt, inspiring albums that I’ve ever heard. Brilliant.

The amount of bad music certainly outnumbers the good and I find it sad that most of America’s exports are from the former category. I am embarrassed for American culture when the radio here plays songs like “My Humps,” especially when my students ask me to translate the lyrics for them. I try to explain that it’s slang but they still want a literal translation. The other day my sister and I were listening to one of the European stations that gets broadcast here, I wasn’t really paying attention to the music but all of a sudden my sister got a quizzical look on her face and goes, “what’s a sex crime?” I cry for the future of pop music.

The future.

2006-09-28T23:18:00.000-07:00

One of the favorite conversation topics among the volunteers here is what we’re going to do with our lives once we get back home. Where we’re going to live, what we’re going to do, how many kids we want, etc. etc. You’d think being a teacher would deter me from wanting kids but in fact is has the opposite effect, I want a whole litter of ‘em. I was thinking 10 or 12 would be a good number. Some skeptics will say it’s logistically impossible unless I want to be pregnant for over a decade but I’m optimistic about popping them out in rapid succession. However, the fact that I am not married, close to being married or in the vicinity of wanting to be married and don’t even see it as part of my future until waaaayyy down the line poses a bit of an obstacle. One friend pointed out that I’m going to be pregnant until I’m 40 which, let’s be honest, sounds pretty grim. Alternatively, I said that I would be willing to have 3 of my own then adopt 7 other children- one from every continent. We weren’t sure if children could really be born in Antartica, seeing as how it’s comprised of chunks of floating ice, so I compromised and said I’d take a penguin instead. So my future’s settled: 9 kids and a penguin.

I’ll just have to tell the other kids to knock before opening the freezer.

It's all about the pheremones...

2006-09-23T03:16:00.000-07:00

I'm always surprised to discover how contrary my opinions are to those of my sisters. This applies to a wide array of topics but I'll hone in one one specific one: attractiveness.

It was a Saturday morning and I was on my way to Bishkek so I put on the same outfit I wore all week (which is acceptable here and it really cuts down on laundry so I'll file this under a win-win situation) I hadn't showered all week, my hair was dirty and my smell was noticeable (not in a good way). I walked into their room to say goodbye and that I'd be back before dinner and they all coo'ed in Russian: ooo beautiful girl, beautiful girl, you must be meeting a boy today! You look great!

I gave them my best "are-you-crazy?" look and told them that I'm dirty, my hair's greasy and I smell.

Their response? "No, no.... that look suits you!"

I sighed and thought about all those countless hours wasted getting ready when I used to care about how I look. I can't help but wonder if guys at home will be attracted to "that look" as well....

Job titles.

2006-09-12T00:56:00.000-07:00

Today in my 11th form class the topic was called "my summer holiday". One of my brighter students never likes to be helped and if he can't think of a word, he'll try to do a round about explanation. Today he was introducing his partner and this is what he said:

"His name is Azia and this summer he was a... a... a master of sheeps."

I'm not positive, but I'm guessing that he wanted to say that his friend was a shepherd.

Transitions

2006-09-08T22:07:00.000-07:00

As my one-year anniversary approaches, David Bowie is running tape-loop in my mind belting out, “Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes”. How is this year different? I can actually communicate, for one. It’s hard to notice any progress in language acquisition until you’re put in a similar situation in which you knew previously knew nothing. In my case it’s school and now my students actually understand what I’m talking about rather than me flailing my arms wildly about hoping they get the picture from context clues and/or charades.

I’m teaching an entire school year, whereas last year I just started in December. The first week seemed daunting at first, just getting into the swing of things again but then I remembered that I have 6 months of experience and lesson plans that I can incorporate into this year.

Everything in general just seems easier; my sisters are now used to my kooky habits like eating dinner at 6 pm instead of 11 pm and me reading for hours at a time instead of watching television. They’re not offended if I don’t drink tea with them and they know when I just need to have my “alone time” and aren’t alarmed if my door doesn’t open for an entire day. Sometimes there are those days.

The K-14s are coming to site near the end of September and the K-12s have already started filing out. It’s weird that I don’t know my service without the K-12s- they don’t really effect my life on a daily basis but it’s odd knowing that we met in Kyrgyzstan and it’s highly likely that I’ll never see most of them ever again. It’s hard to believe that the K-13s are the so-called experts now, it seems like I just started figuring out everything for myself.

(Side note: luckily I am in on the K-14 gossip and I have NOT been nicknamed as the “diarrhea girl”- Phew, what a relief! Unfortunately, I don’t know if my new moniker is any better as “the girl who almost died.” Then again, at least it’s not as bad as on of the K-12s we named as “that guy who ate pigeon hearts”. True story.)

Our official attrition rate is 30%. I think we lost around 10 volunteers this summer alone and 19 in total. We’ve lost volunteers to an assortment of reasons, medical and personal mostly but we really suffered a blow when we lost 4 to administrative reasons. We came here as a group expecting to stay as a group and I think we all felt a blow in morale when we lost these particularly dedicated volunteers. Hopefully we can retain the 48 of us who are left for the next 15 months.

I don’t think it’s feasible that this year could possibly get any worse than my last year, let’s to a quick year-in-review with some of the highlights: I.Vs, a herniated disc, parasites, being detained at the Kazak border, worms, my wallet stolen- twice, torn ligaments, almost dying (according to the K-14s) on top of all the standard struggles that go along with being integrated into another culture. Knock on wood. To all the nonbelievers who said I wouldn’t make it past a month, I have one question for you (a la Ben Affleck from Good Will Hunting): how do you like me now?

Quick Shout Outs- Thanks for my birthday packages!

Otter and Susie- I wanted to read the book before I watched Pride and Prejudice but I couldn’t contain myself and I loved it. The goodies were perfect but who knew Lip Smackers would make me miss home… oh well, at least my lips are moisturized and shiny now!

Pam and Jill- The wedding pictures made it this time! I don’t know why postal office workers love stealing photographs (kind of creepy) but they were a good reminder of great memories. My host sister looked at the pictures for 30 minutes and said you’re the most beautiful girl she’s ever seen. My reply: Ya soglacna. I agree.

With a bang.

2006-09-08T22:03:00.000-07:00

If you’re confused about my title, it’s the answer to the question: How did your summer go out? There was no other way I would have rather spent the last two weeks of my summer than doing Habitat for Humanity in Barskoon with the 14 other volunteers. In fact, it was probably the most rewarding thing I’ve done in country thus far because the results were immediate and visible. It’s difficult to track day-to-day progress as a teacher so it was a nice change of pace for us. The work was physically demanding and by the 10th day my body was definitely feeling it since I was using muscles that I forgot existed.

Over the course of 10 days I stomped in mud that was used for bricks, I made mud that was used for the mortar, I planed floors, I painted, I hauled the mud bricks and I helped put up the walls for the last two rooms in the house. At first the men working there were trying to make the girls lighten their workloads but by the last day they saw that we were just as capable of doing the laborious work. I thought we would be working from the ground up but previous groups had helped so the main structure was already there but there were still lots of projects. One guy was in charge of making over 400 mud bricks in two days.

For the entire 10 days, I think I was alone for a total of 45 minutes, not including bathroom time. Things get really interesting when you have 15 volunteers crowded into 3 rooms but luckily we had a great group of people who meshed well together. I think by the end everyone was pretty cracked out from the physical exhaustion.

Barskoon is an awesome site, I think it is probably my favorite place in Kyrgyzstan so far. It’s gorgeous, it’s close to the lake and the people there are so accommodating. Every night we put 2 people in charge of dinner and thing get interesting when there is a limited amount of produce available in a small village. Two girls wanted to make french-fries but the stores didn’t have any potatoes so they finally got the idea to go door-to-door to the neighbors to ask them if they had any. They lucked out, and they found a family who had potatoes- still in the garden… they just had to dig them up first. Kind of like borrowing a cup of sugar.

The family we worked with was great and I think they got a kick out of us because Peace Corps and Habitat for Humanity just started working in conjunction with another; usually the groups come America that don’t know the language or about the country. I think the family and workers were thrown off by volunteers who have lived here for a year and could speak Russian and Kyrgyz. I got the homeowner to laugh when he told me to take 3 bricks instead of 4, I just looked at him and said in Russian, “I’m like a man.”

Birthday Madness

2006-08-15T01:35:00.000-07:00

My birthday here was better than I could have ever expected. It might have to do with the fact that I went dancing 3 nights in a row. It might have to do with the fact that I had friends come up from all over the country to see me and help me celebrate. It might have to do with the fact that I got 4 (4!) birthday packages from home and lots of birthday wishes from friends and family. Or maybe it's all of those things put together.

On a completely unrelated note, I had one of those "wow-I'm-really-in-the-Peace-Corps" moments today. I am not exactly what you would call clean, my clothes have been worn for a week straight (Smoke and Disco sweat and all) and my hair has enough grease in it to fry an egg on it. This morning, I gave myself a Baby Powder Shower, I doused my hair with "Psssst" powder on to soak up my hair grease, and I sprayed my unwashed clothes with Febreeze. After all that, I felt as fresh as if I had just taken a real shower.... I have no idea why Peace Corps volunteers have a reputation for being dirty.

Anyways, here's some shout outs:

The Sugarman and Sledge Families: Thanks so much for the package from the beach, I loved the book you made me, it was great seeing you all. Especially the picture of you, Jess "Peace Suckas!"

Anthony, Barb, Matte, Hallie and Lindsay: Thanks for everything, I don't think the Swedish Fish even saw the light of day. I loved the books and that will keep me from staring at the wall for at least a week!

Ang: Thanks for the Mac and Cheese, I had actually been craving it for quite awhile and I tried to make it from scratch but artificial cheese is not easily replicated. It'll definitely keep me well fed through the winter.

Mom and Dad: Thanks for the clothes, it was almost like Christmas, I'm wearing the black skirt right now and it's sooo comfortable! In fact, it's the only clean thing I'm wearing.

Kathy: I loved the jewelry! The earrings are so rockstar. I feel so obnoxious wearing something that's almost the size of my face, you know me too well. Love it.

New Kids on the Block.

2006-08-07T04:38:00.000-07:00

First let me explain something about Pre-Service training in Peace Corps. Its usually a drag for the trainees because they days are long and tiring and you get all this information that you don’t even know how to use yet. So Peace Corps likes to invite volunteers who are so-called experts in a particular field to come and talk about their own personal experiences and how it relates to their service here. (This is usually the best part of PST because volunteers usually stray from their assigned topic after 5 minutes then talk about whatever is they feel is personally relevant). So anyways, I was the very first volunteer to show up at Training and I was lucky enough to talk about diarrhea.

At first I was like no, I can’t talk about that, it’ll ruin any chances I have of getting a K-14 boyfriend. I’ll be forever known as that diarrhea girl. But I had nothing else planned and I was dying to see the new kids so I thought, what the hell. Besides, my talk was pretty funny but then again it’s impossible to talk about diarrhea and NOT be funny. My first impression of the new group was that they looked like clean and healthy little puppies. A little wary but still really eager. I figured my talk would change all that right away.

I regaled them with tales of giardia, worms and I.V.s and as their eyes widened I could see them shooting side-ways glances to their buddies about what this crazy girl was still doing in country. In fact, I may have done the same thing once or twice. I told them that there’s a saying that you’re not a Real Peace Corps Volunteer until you poop your pants, which is absolutely true. I am now a Real PCV three times over. My favorite question came at the end of the session when my talk was over. You could tell the guy was hesitant to ask it but wanted to know the answer anyway. He inquired, “So, were you like, in the outhouse, and you missed? Did you like, have bad aim? Or what?” my response was, “Oh no no, my dear sweet child, shitting your pants happens only when the outhouse is a complete afterthought.” Once my talk was over I expected standing ovation but it was more like uncomfortable laughter and the forced slow-clap. Regardless, I really feel like I inspired some trainees that day and even if it’s not an accident, I can see a 100% turn out rate for the K-14s being Real PCVs.

Camp!

2006-08-07T04:35:00.000-07:00

I re-read my last blog and I sounded like a snotty little biatch because summer really has been a vast improvement in living here. As always it’s really easy to complain about things but at some point you have to stop complaining and actually do something about it. The highlight of my summer so far was the camp that one of the volunteers, Brian, put on in a Southern village on the lake called Saruu. It was an all girls Diversity camp and it was such a hit between the girls and all the camp counselors. We played ultimate Frisbee, we made piñatas, we did tye-dye, and everyday they had individual sessions put on by other volunteers and locals who have traveled to America. On volunteer taught sign language, another taught basic Chinese, and two girls did one on stereotypes and gender roles. The girls were really involved and I really think they benefited from the camp because Brian did an awesome job of putting everything together.

My personal favorite session was when Tana, Jenny and I choreographed a dance to Britney Spears then broke the moves down and taught it to them. It was like my true calling. I felt like one of those stereotypical, crazy dance instructors, “ I saaaaid to the LEFT!!” It was even worse when I started yelling in Russian, “Again! Again! (Apyat, apyat)” At one point I almost threw my clipboard down and left the room, but then I remembered that these girls have no previous dance training and let them try again (kidding, I’m not that bad). Their practice totally paid off and they did a performance on the last day and I was so proud of them when they got an encore. On the last day of camp we also went to the hot springs in Saruu and even though they were only about 30 minutes away and most of the girls have lived there their whole lives, they’ve still never been to them. So we went on a hike to a waterfall, which was the perfect way to end the camp.

By the time we were saying our goodbyes, the girls didn’t want us to leave and I didn’t want to leave either. In four short days we all got really attached and I really do want to make it back there to visit them sometime again. Plus it inspired me to put on my own camp for next year so I’ve got a lot of time to figure out what I want to do.

Busy?

2006-08-07T04:34:00.000-07:00

I’ve been trying to recall what exactly I’ve been up to for the last 2 months but I keep drawing a bunch of blanks. I know I haven’t been sitting around so what have I been doing?

First of all summer is not the utopia I expected. Instead, summer has kind of been the ultimate practical joke…. on me. We were supposed to have a lavish garden with all sorts of exotic fruits and vegetables. And by exotic I really just mean your standard tomatoes, cucumbers, and cabbage, whatever. Well all the irrigation water was redirected to the big commercial fields so we had no water and all of our plants died, which means not only do we not have an all-access pass to vegetables as I was promised but now we won’t be able to can anything for the winter. Potatoes and pasta it is. Again. For 8 months. Again.

So I’ve had running water for about a total of 2 weeks since the summer began. This wouldn’t be so much of an issue but our main village source of water was also shut off for a while which means really bad news. When water does run from the main source that means I have to take our rickety-ass, rusty wheelbarrow uphill, barefoot, both ways (do I sound like one of your grandparents yet?) with a water jug that doesn’t completely close, which takes a lot of maneuvering to make sure that all my hard work isn’t spilled out on the semi-paved roads. Mind you this is all in the blistering heat of about a billion degrees. So that’s water.

On one particular day, during our housecleaning session when I was hauling water several times, I saw ahead of me something that elicited what I can only describe as Cart Envy. I stood awestruck and almost perplexed by the guy who was getting water ahead of me. He had a dolly with a platform and on the platform there was a huge pail; it fit perfectly on the spigot; filled completely, and then he did something I hadn’t seen before; capped it with a cover and off he went, not a drop lost on the way, the big wheels not even noticing the ruts in the road. As I filled my wheelbarrow, it was the first time in-country that I was like, “I WANT one of those, Now!” He had the SUV equivalent of a water cart. When he finished I realized that I had been staring at him, open-mouthed the entire time and I even had to wipe a little drool away when he was done. Back in America I assessed cute clothes and nice cars, here a nice, sturdy water cart makes me jealous.

Electricity is another thing. I forgot everything I’m supposed to know about circuits that I learned from the 8th grade but the idea comes back pretty quickly when one person on the street doesn’t pay and the entire street gets shut off. I expected not to have electricity for over a month but luckily it was only for two weeks. I’m guessing someone got hassled by the neighbors. My plan was to take vacation leave and go to Lake Issy-kul but the day I planned to leave, the electricity and water was running again. How’s that for timing?

One thing I cannot complain about is how cheap the vegetables are now. You can get a kilo of tomatoes for about 7 som (about 10 cents) and a lot of other stuff really cheaply. But with no electricity, it was hard to cook anything, and when it’s super-hot the last thing I want to do is eat. Plus my body wasn’t used to getting vitamins and nutrients so my bowels were definitely not in check either. On the other hand, the fruit here is sweeter, fresher and tastier than any fruit I’ve ever had before. I’ve never been a big fan of apricots but here they’re juicy and sweet and I ate an entire kilo (around 2 pounds for all you metrically challenged kids) of them in one day. And the raspberries too. Little old grandmas sell them on the side of random streets for 40 som for a liter. Those suckers did not last long. Before I knew it I finished the entire liter and my lips and fingertips were stained raspberry red for a good 2 days.

I had my third I.V. since being in country, any more and I’m going to start to show track marks. After nearly 5 hours of exams and tests, it turns out that I had bacterial and viral infections at the same time and also worms. Yup. Worms. Not even the awesome kind where you get to eat whatever you want and not gain weight. Just the plain old nasty ones. One more test though and I will be completely worm-free. I love my doctor and she takes really good care of me, but she said the most unintentionally funny thing I’ve ever heard. When they took my stool sample she came back in and was like, “that is definitely not normal. That smells really bad.” You know it’s bad when you can gross out your own doctors.

What Happened?

2006-08-03T00:16:00.000-07:00

Back in June, I figured my summer would be cake. I would siesta all day and read all night. I would catch up on my journal and reflect on my last 10 months here. I would do my lesson plans in advance, figure out my schedule for next year and get a head start on vocabulary lists and on top of all that, be fluent in Russian by the end of the summer. I've got a month left and I've done absolutely none of those things. Summer is not as slow as I thought it would be and actually I've been busier than I ever anticipated. The time has flown by and it's hard for me to recall what I've actually been doing this entire time. But here's a starter...

For two weeks in July our house was an absolute mess. We did what we call in Russian a "Remont" which directly translates as "repair". We repainted all the rooms, scrubbed the floors and cleaned every rug in our house. It doesn't seem like a lot of work but it took two weeks for everything to be finished. My sisters originally estimated 2 days. Way off. I don't want to go into detail because I still haven't recovered emotionally but let me just name the tools that my sister picked out to clean the rugs and you can get an idea for yourself as to why I am scarred for life and will never clean another rug again as long as I shall live: A shoe polisher, a paint roller, a lint remover and a vacuum cleaner attachment. I almost suggested I bring my tooth brush because it actually had the word "brush" in it. For all you "do-it-yourselfers" I wouldn't recommend any of the above to clean over 16 rugs in 4 days without running water. Just go buy the scrub brush for wampum or whatever it costs and consider it a long-term investment.

I'm going to take some deep breaths now and I promise I'll update again soon.

The Aftershock.

2006-07-05T02:07:00.000-07:00

Several of my local friends here have asked me if I have changed since living in the country. I wasn’t exactly sure how to respond. Of course I’ve changed, but I don’t think I’m yet aware of all the changes that I’ve undergone. I think it’s too early to tell because I am not back home yet. I think once I’m back in my usual surroundings, the ones that I’ve known my whole life, the differences will be much more apparent. Being in Turkey, I noticed a few, superficial differences, but I tried not to acknowledge them because I didn’t want to take away from my vacation there, I just wanted to soak everything up. Plus, I made a promise to myself that when I go home, I won’t be “that girl” who lectures people about what it’s like to experience poverty, and how grateful we should be for everything and how we shouldn’t complain about trivial minutiae. I caught myself falling into that trap with my family. For two weeks, I found that it was easier to revert to my old self, thinking I was somehow entitled to what has been given to me… a personality trait much worse than raising awareness about my experiences and life here. I felt like I was in this in-between position where I didn’t like the images of my past, but I am still unsure about how I want to project my future.

I told my Russian teacher a few of the things I noticed and she laughed at all of them. For instance, the first day, my dad said his usual schpeal about leaving ourselves enough time to take a shower and get ready in the morning. I was like, oh I don’t need to wake up early, I just took a bucket bath yesterday. My entire family gave me this cock-eyed look that read, Get In The Shower. Everyday. Then we were eating dinner one night, family style where we were just sharing a bunch of plates, and I started eating salad out of this platter. My brother said something to the effect of, “what do you think you’re doing, put it on your own plate.” I can’t even count the number of times when I’ve been guesting and we all just eat out of the same communal plate. I wanted to tell him he was lucky I was eating something solid, like salad. But I bit my tongue, because I didn’t want to be ‘that girl’. I got several strange looks over the course of our time spent together. Someone even made the comment that I need a “welcome back to civilization” but I didn’t think that there was anything wrong with my actions.

The times I did try to tell stories about my life and experiences, people’s eyes seemed to glaze over. I guess when people don’t have a former reference for something, they are easily bored by what they don’t know. I don’t know, as great as it was to see everyone and do these amazing things, by the end of the trip I felt withdrawn; I won’t say I felt ‘replaced’ I will just say that I felt like I didn’t belong to that life anymore. Of all the stories I heard, I was no longer a part of them and I won’t be apart of it for another year and a half. As much as I was nervous about going back, I felt like my hand washing all my laundry more closely reflected who I am then when I gave it to our servants to do.

Looking back in retrospect it was such a bizarre phenomenon… leaving a country who I’ve known for 9 months, being completely self-sufficient, learning a new language, dealing with little daily struggles of getting around to enter a world where I was greeted by my ‘former self’ in this unreal world where everything was done for me. As many beautiful, maginificent things we saw outside, I have to say that it juxtaposed an uglier inner self that I hope was and will remain the “old me”.

A Millionaire Lifestyle

2006-06-15T01:03:00.000-07:00

I just finished looking through all my pictures to inspire some words to tell about my trip to Turkey but I still think I am going to come up short because I know I won’t be able to do any justice to what I saw, heard and did. I came back with a few souvenirs, among them a couple scarves, some earrings, a tan, a few pounds gained back (straight to my hips, of course) and a torn ligament in my knee, which I attribute to all the walking, hiking and dancing we did.

I can start by saying that this is probably the best family vacation that we’ve ever had, I think this is due to several factors. First being that my Father had quite a few connections in Turkey, which led to the most effortless and stressless traveling experience ever, no asking for directions or getting lost, we had private drivers to haul us around to where we needed to go. The second that coming from a developing country made me appreciate the smallest detail that much more. And the third being that I hadn’t seen my family in so long, I was afraid that I had changed or even worse that they had changed. Thoughts of “what if they don’t recognize/remember/like me anymore” crossed my mind several times but my heart was put to ease the minute I fell into their arms at the airport and cried and cried and cried. Miraculously, we’re all the same as we were 9 months ago.

Istanbul was absolutely amazing and we experienced it in the best way. We were lucky enough to have one of the most famous tour guides in Istanbul, he recently created a documentary about underground worlds for the History Channel. He was brilliant, informative and concise, plus he even got used to my family’s sense of humor quickly and fit right in. By the end of our 3-day tour we were sad to see him leave and for the rest of the vacation we wished that he were still with us. Istanbul is an absolutely gorgeous city, situated on the Bosphorous and littered with minarets, domed mosques, and a maze of cobbled roads leading you centuries back to the Ottoman empire. It has a permanent golden hue that makes it look like the city is glowing. We did as much as we could but I think my two favorites were the Topkapi palace (you could spend days wandering around that place) and the Chora Mosque. We also took a private boat ride around the Bosphorous all the way down to the opening of the Black sea. It was so surreal to look to the right and see the Asian continent and to the left see the European continent. Real Estate on the Bosphorous is the second highest (to Tokyo) in the world.

We went out dancing one night (yes, we did that as a family too) to Reina, one of the hottest clubs not only in Istanbul but in Europe, too. The club is situated on and overlooks the Boshporous. It was a Monday night and it was absolutely packed, I’ve never been anywhere like that in my entire life. This turned out to be an infamous night for our family due to a couple red bulls and vodka (my parents were naïve to its effects). At one point my mother was begging my brother to bring her a glass of water. Being the evil and devious son that he is he brought her back another red bull and vodka and didn’t tell her and THEN brought out the camera, which I think my mother is confiscating at the moment. We absolutely destroyed the dance floor and we have pictures to prove it. At one point my mother was surrounded like 10 boys, we were like, “Dad, why don’t you go rescue her?” but he was having too much fun watching her dance. We have a cruel, cruel family. My parents left around 2 and Nick, Kathy and I closed the club down and got back around 3:30 there is still a mystery surrounding where one of my shoes went. It was funny though, in K-stan, most vodka is cheaper than juice so when I got to Turkey, I was like, I am NOT drinking any vodka. First drink I ordered? A dirty vodka martini. The second? A red bull and vodka. Sheesh. At least it was really really good vodka and I didn’t even have to chase it with pickles.

It was hard to leave Istanbul but I think we were also ready to relax. I don’t know how much longer we would have lasted walking around all day and partying all night. Bodrum was a nice change of pace for the daytime but was relentless during nighttime. We stayed at a 7 million dollar house compound that resembled individual castles all surrounding a private pool. The house was equipped with a full-time summer staff including servants, chefs and drivers. We also had a 99-foot private boat to use at our disposal so we spent two days cruising around different harbors that line the Aegean Sea. We snorkeled, swam and sprawled across the terry cloth mattresses that lined the front and back of the boat. We had all gotten way too much sun but it was a nice, relaxing day. When we got back, we had a private pool to savor those last minuets of sunshine around 5 o’clock before it starts to retire.

The first night we went out we went to a club that was previously the biggest club in Europe. It was pretty unique because it had stadium seating and also overlooked the Aegean. It was a pretty quiet night because the official tourist season doesn’t start until the first of July but they had a several stages and platforms with go go dancers for entertainment. At one point, Kathy and I were tired of watching and I think we were both thinking the same thing, “we can do better”. So we took overtook the entire dance floor (which was HUGE) and strutted and danced ourselves all over it. I think we became the new form of entertainment for everyone. I think we probably danced for 3 hours straight. The next day we couldn’t even walk, but luckily we didn’t have anything better to do then lay around all day in the sun anyway. When we left the club, our bill was more than half of what I make for an entire year’s salary as a Peace Corps volunteer. Spoiled, what?

The next night was like nothing I’ve ever done before. We went to a club called Catamaran, which is actually the biggest catamran in the world and has a glass bottomed dancefloor so you can literally “dance on water”. If you want to leave, you have to take a separate boat back to shore or wait until the boat docks back at the harbor around 4 or 5 a.m. They had professional dancers on platforms and a whole slew of transvestites that came out with 8 inch platform white faux fur go go boots. They were so awesome and I danced with a few of them but it was intimidating seeing as they were toppling around 7 feet tall. I had around 9 months of dancing bottled up in my system and I went absolutely nuts, I made myself a favorite of one of the dancers and went for about 4 hours straight with absolutely no breaks. I had a dance-off with myself. The DJ was amazing and we closed the club down and got home around 5. It was probably the coolest club I’ve ever been to. Around 4:30 I crawled off the dance floor and my father had to come retrieve me and practically carry me home because I was so tired. That night was probably the most fun I’ve had in 9 months.

It was really really hard to leave Bodrum, especially because our host offered to pay me a salary equivalent to what I make for peace corps to hang around all day and do absolutely nothing but bask in the summer sun and spend my nights cavorting around all of Bodrum’s different clubs. I have to say that it was particularly tempting but I think that I probably would get bored after awhile (that’s just what I have to tell myself to keep me from getting on the next plane back).

Cyprus was really nice as well. Our hotel was situated at the end of a peninsula on the Mediterranean and you could see Southern Turkey from our balcony. They gave us a huge suite that practically took up a wing of the hotel. One side overlooked the pool and the other side overlooked the beach. They even had a dock jutting out into the Sea so that people could lounge around on oversized pillows and jump off for a cooling refresher when they got hot. Kathy and I took it upon ourselves to order some pina coladas and get settled in. It was really relaxing but reality started to hit because I knew there were only a few remaining days of paradise. Northern Cyprus has a cute little harbor with shops and restaurants so we went there for our last night and wandered around, pretending that we didn’t have to go back to our lives the following day.

The way our flights worked out I actually had an extra day and a half in Istanbul so I met up with two other volunteers and my parents put us all up in hotel. For our last day we ventured out to the Spice Markets, wandered around and then took a ferry across the Bosphorous to Princess Island. We thought we were going to go to the beach but it was too cool so we ate a huge seafood meal then took a horse drawn carriage right around the perimeter of the island. The island had historical houses and new huge mansions, the shops and restaurants were adorable and fruit stands seemed to line every walkway. I couldn’t resist buying our horses some apples after our long haul. I thought it would be hard being in Turkey without my parents but it was actually nice to regroup with some volunteers and enjoy a few comforts that we normally don’t get to experience in K-stan. Like Burger King and a hot shower, for example. We spent our last day soaking up the rest of Turkish culture and wandered in an out of shops until it was time to leave.

It was harder to leave than I ever anticipated. Everything just went so smoothly, it was hard for me to imagine getting readjusted to life here. I have never been pampered or treated the way we were, it’s not every time that when you travel you have the general manager or owner come up and introduce themselves at nearly every hotel, restaurant and club we went to. This vacation was truly unique in that the people and the hospitality that we experienced turned this into a once in a lifetime opportunity.

I have to say that after I got back it’s the closest I’ve ever been to leaving Peace Corps for good. It took every ounce of strength not to burst into tears for 3 straight days but I think it helped going straight to Koshoi to help with a project that Izzy, one of the K-12s set up. We repainted the libraries and resource centers in our training village schools so that gave me a sense of accomplishment and purpose being back in the country. Plus it was good to see Mama and Tanya again, the closest people to real family that I have here in Kyrgyzstan. I am slowly readjusting to life back here and figuring out how I’m going to spend my summer. I have a few ideas but right now I’m just trying to take it one day at a time.

Turkey Lurkey

2006-06-11T20:17:00.000-07:00

Well I'm back and although I've been too busy to put it all down into words I am looking forward to some peace and quiet because I've been running all around the country since I've been here. It's definitely a bitter-sweet feeling. It's nice to be able to walk back into a previously foreign country and feel comfortable getting around. This time entering customs on the way in was a completely different feeling than I had 9 months ago. Not nearly as scary but still challenging since I still have another 17 months to go.

Shout outs:

I did come back to a very nice surprise, thanks Mrs. John and Lacey for your package. Lacey you looked absolutely gorgeous in your wedding pictures and everything else looked so beautiful. These are the things I miss most about being home because I would have loved to be there to celebrate your special day with you. Just know that I've been thinking about you and keeping you in my prayers.

And as always, Marco, you always seem to say the right thing at the right time, I think I'll write this one down and remember to read it often, "There is always a light at the end of the tunnel, even if you cannot see it. The human eye is not entirely reliable in the first place. What we SEE is not often there, and more often, what we don't see is usually right in front of us."

Mac Guyver

2006-05-25T05:21:00.000-07:00

Of course we’re all familiar with the old 80’s show where the main character, Mac Guyver could make a bomb out of a piece of gum and a teaspoon. Well I think I live with the Kyrgyz version of him. My host brother and I were talking about being jack-of-all trades kind of people (except I am the girl version, instead of a bomb, I can make a quilt) All I have to do is hold up a broken item, shrug my shoulders and give a “what-am-I-going-to-do-about-this” face and in minutes, presto! Problem solved. He probably thinks I’m absolutely helpless but then again, he’s always impressed when I do actually know what I’m talking about.

All of the volunteer’s worst fears include something to do with the pit toilet, either dropping something in it or God forbid, falling in it. Well I have to say that I’m the first in our group to realize that fear. I was going to go for a run and I thought I’d make a quick stop at the pit toilet. I had my ipod clipped securely (foreshadowing) to my belt with the convenient yet sleek case my parents got me and I had my earphones around my neck. The minute I went to squat, I felt a pull and heard a snap and saw my ipod plummeting to its death, I immediately lunged forward to try and grab my doomed ipod, to no avail. Before I could utter, “ohhh sshhhhiiiiiiiiiii---” I sprinted inside the house screaming frantically, “fell! Fell!” I was so frustrated I could get the Russian words out so I motioned my brother to follow me. I was like “m..p...3 player… toilet…. Fell…. Gone… ahhhh” He ripped off the wooden base and I motioned for me going down there to get it. I was like I’ll go I’ll go I’ll go. He was like, just wait, calm down. He left and brought back a garden hoe and reached down, scooped it up and retrieved it for me. LUCKILY it only fell on some tissue paper but I threw my sleek yet convenient case away and scrubbed my ipod and hands with disinfectant until my fingers were raw.

After I had calmed down, he came back to me and was like, the way you were screaming, I thought you had lost something important, like documents or something. I was like first of all, my ipod is way more important than any document I have, and second of all, I’m an idiot, thank you so much for helping me. He said I was lucky because it didn’t fall in any liquid and I vehemently agreed. He was like, “I can’t believe how ready you were to go down there and get it, don’t you realize what’s down there??” Recalling all those times I was ill, the thought had crossed my mind for a second, but I think I would have risked it if there were no other choices. I have heard about those people that say they don’t know how they ever lived without their ipod and how it changed their life. I think I am now in an entirely different category if I was willing to retrieve mine from a pit toilet.

Banyas

2006-05-25T05:20:00.000-07:00

After listening to me complain and rant, one very bright volunteer said this: Here are my two pieces of advice 1) Count the days in the week and never let the bad days out number the good. And 2) If the weather is nice and you’ve just had a banya and you still feel miserable, then it’s probably a good indication that Peace Corps isn’t the place for you. She was absolutely right and her advice meant so much to me that I have a feeling that a few more people could benefit from it. It helps keep things in perspective and makes you appreciate the good days which are sometimes hard to notice when you’ve had a slew of bad ones.

Back in the states, Sunday was always my least favorite day because it was a prelude to Monday. As much as I wanted to relax, I always dreaded it. Here it’s the opposite. Sunday means that I get to clean my clothes, go for a run and my favorite part, I get to clean myself. This past Sunday the heat was particularly excruciating and I didn’t drink enough water so when I went from my run to the banya, I was even dizzier than usual. (To try and explain a banya is absolutely futile, it’s something you have to experience for yourself. Even comparing it to a sauna doesn’t do it justice, but for the sake of the story, we’ll go with sauna. It’s a very humid heat, usually around (or if it’s a good one over) 115 degrees.) This time, it was the hottest banya I’ve ever had in Kyrgyzstan and I didn’t have my sister with me and I started to panic because passing out in the banya would be a fate worse than death because the door is locked from the inside… my mind started running, “what if I pass out? What if I hit my head on the cement? What if I die in here and when they come to find me I’m sweaty and naked and lying on the ground?? I bet I’d be too slippery to be picked up…” I started to hurry, washing everything quickly to get out before my water supply ran out. I even crouched down towards the bottom to see if I could get cool air into my lungs. I waited until the last possible moment and then burst out of the room. After the run and 45 minutes in the banya, I couldn’t even muster the energy to put my clothes on. After another 15 minutes I stumbled out with my clothes stuck to me, my face bright red and the Eje had a shocked look on her face, “are you okay?” I responded, “Me? Yeah. Great. No, great, I’m fine.”

Usually it takes me 5 minutes to walk home but this time it took me 20. As I was walking, I had my towel draped around my shoulders, I was taking in the scenery, enjoying my cleanliness when one Shepard who was tending his sheep called out to me, “Slokium Parum” something that you say to someone who has just had a banya. I rounded a corner, walked further and when my favorite grandpa noticed me, he called out, “Slokium Parum!” On my walk home, I have a perfect view of the mountains and on this particular day, the sky was a perfect Carolina blue, punctuated by striking white snow peaks that slowly dissolved into the dark green foothills.

That volunteer was right. On days like these, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.

Are we there yet?

2006-05-25T05:19:00.000-07:00

I can almost taste the starbucks I’ll be drinking, I can almost smell the salt surf on the Aegean and I can almost feel the crisp 5-star linen sheets I’ll be sleeping in. I feel like this last month of teaching has drained every ounce of energy I have. Wednesdays are always my worst and today I couldn’t take it anymore. In one class, the kids sauntered in 15 minutes late, were talking and walking around the class, being disruptive. I just sat at my desk and stared at them. 25 minutes into the lesson I was still sitting, still staring. They finally caught on about 30 minutes in that I was waiting for them to be ready. I was too tired to fight or argue or discipline them. Probably not the best classroom management strategy but I can’t force anyone to want to learn.

As the end of this year approaches, I have realized a few things about myself have reflected on what I’ve been doing in this country for the last 8 months and also what I am going to do differently next year. Teaching is way harder than I ever anticipated. I have always had respect for the teaching profession but now that I’ve done it, I know that it takes someone with incredible stamina and resilience. I felt like a monkey in half of my classes, jumping around, making hand gestures, trying to get my point across, looking ridiculous in the process. If it’s one thing I hate the most it’s when students mock me. I am doing this for their benefit, and yeah, sometimes I’m un-purposely funny, I would probably laugh at myself too but nothing makes me feel worse when someone makes a smart-aleck remark in Russian that they think I won’t understand.

In this country and in Peace Corps in general there’s nothing deadlier than a, “what’s the use” attitude. I know this because I’ve had one this past week and maybe even this entire last month. I got so discouraged when I did a review exercise in one of my classes of all the material we’ve been working on. All the students were relying on my 2 star students to do all the work and it made me feel like all of the energy I spent was in vain. I realized instead of having these self-defeating “why am I here” thoughts, I need to put that energy into thinking of things that I can do differently for next year. I have already offered to help the Peace Corps Staff put together a new curriculum that more accurately reflects student’s abilities and gather new materials rather than have to resort to the ridiculously out-dated textbooks where one of the exercises was even difficult for me as a native English speaker.

Hopefully this summer I’ll be able to relax, refocus and regain my energy to be a more effective English teacher for next year because right now, I’m spent.

As for Turkey, I have two words: Almost there.

Grumplestiltzkin.

2006-05-12T02:10:00.000-07:00

My favorite days here in Kyrgyztan usually happen when my lessons went great, my kids listened, participated and actually benefited from my presence. On those days the sun seems to shine a bit brighter, the birds seem to chirp a bit louder and the flowers seem to bloom at the exact moment when I pass them. Let me just say that last Friday was not one of those days.

As of 3 o’clock we were supposed to be on stand fast so I had to get into Bishkek, run my errands then get out of town. Just to set up the picture, this day was a blazing 4 million degrees outside and my first stop was the bazaar. I try to avoid the bazaar at all costs, it’s crowded, I always get lost and people are always pushing me around because I don’t know my way. I just assume pay a few more sohm to walk into a store where things are more organized and I can semi-recognize what I’m trying to buy. But I thought, no, I’ll be brave, it’s been awhile since the last time I was here and this time I won’t wander around like a stray puppy for 3 hours, after all, I only have a few, simple items on my list. Right? Wrong.

First of all, no one seemed to know the word for mousetrap in Russian, even though I had it written down on paper. I had to pantomime a little mouse dying and one guy was laughing so hard and being of no use to me that I just had to walk away. So I go to about 100 more stalls when someone tells me that they are at the complete opposite end of the bazaar (Note: this is the biggest bazaar in Central Asia and takes up about 4 very concentrated city blocks, at least). Great. I dodge and weave my way through the crowds and at this point, I am already a sweaty, disheveled mess. I finally found one lady that was willing to help me and she pointed in the right direction. I didn’t see what she was referring to so I asked, “mishelovka?” (Mousetrap in Russian). She held it up this contraption, nodded fervently and said, “Yes yes. Kill mouse.” I thought… now this can’t be right. She must have said, “kill moose” because this thing more closely resembled the Jaws of Life than it did a little mousetrap. This thing was huge and metal and even had spikes on it. Spikes! I am not trying to annihilate the thing; I’m just trying to lay it to a peaceful death. I think using this thing would put me into the “cold blooded murderer category.” I asked if they had any wooden ones and tried to explain that I was trying to kill a small little field mouse, not a jackrabbit. Silly me. Of course they didn’t have anything like that. I figured I should just drop the 20 sohm to buy one rather than having to hunt it down again, so I did.

So at this point I am just about finished at the bazaar. I have my kilo of oatmeal, my mouse poison, my mouse-death-trap and a few other miscellaneous items. Everything was starting to get heavy and the back of my t-shirt was soaked through with sweat and I had had enough. I’m just about to leave the bazaar when SMACK- a plastic bullet hits me square on the side of my head. Let me tell you right now that there is nothing more degrading than being shot in the head with a plastic bullet. It’s not enough to do damage, but it just leaves you feeling like a dumbass for being shot at by some punk kids. I turn around to give my now ubiquitous, “what-the-” look and I see a group of boys giggling and running away. I wanted to chase after them and tell them that I could be teaching their brother/sister/son or daughter English but I was too tired to make a scene so I hung my head down in shame and went home.

So to make matters worse, now I am sitting in my room, the mouse trap is sitting in my closet and my mouse is busy sleeping until exactly 3:00 a.m. (right in the middle of my R.E.M cycle) when he’ll get up and pitter patter back and forth on my floor boards until I try to wake back up in a half-zombie state at quarter to seven. I swear, one more night of this and I’m going to break out the Jaws of Death, I don’t care how messy the clean up will be.

Naryn? Nope. Narnia.

2006-05-12T02:09:00.000-07:00

So, my plans have been thwarted once again. Lately we’ve had a lot of travel restrictions due to roadblocks and political demonstrations. I can’t get into the specifics but if you’re interested I’m sure you can find information online. Let’s just say that ‘stable’ isn’t the word that I’d use to describe the situation. I wanted to go down to Naryn because we have 4 other volunteers down there serving from JMU. One of the girls is leaving in late May so I wanted to go before she leaves to take a picture of all of us together. My plan is to write an article about our service here and send it into Montpelier, the JMU alumni magazine. I know. I’m a dork. Hopefully our restriction will be lifted by next week. Even if I wasn’t going to go anywhere anyway, it’s just hard knowing that we can’t leave our houses (except to go to school) even if we wanted to. Oh well, Phil just gave me the complete Chronicles of Narnia so at least I have some good reading to do.

I think I experienced another one of those moments where the information I received was, ‘lost in translation.’ So I think I have started to understand why Bocktaer’s 15-year-old sister came here. It wasn’t to work in Bishkek, it was to work in our house. As much as I complained before about the ants in my distiller and how the house was always a mess I feel even worse that this 15 year old girl is solely responsible for cleaning up after everyone in the house. We are all young able-bodied people who should be self-sufficient at this point. I have started to pilfer my dirty dishes so she doesn’t clean them before I have the chance. Here, when milk comes from the local cow, it isn’t exactly pasteurized, which means that you have to boil it before you drink it. Well, I was in the process of transferring it from the pot back to the clean jar but when I went to grab it 10 seconds later, it literally vanished. Now that’s odd. Where could it have gone? It was only she and I in the house so I thought I was going crazy when I couldn’t figure out what happened to it. Finally, I asked her if she knew what I did with it and she told me she put it away. I feel like she’s walking around behind me with a dustpan at my heels. I have now realized that the discomfort I feel for the house being spic and span is far greater than the discomfort experienced by a few drowned ants.

On top of that, I recently realized I can’t even communicate with her. Since she’s from Kochkor, a pretty remote place in Kyrgyzstan, she hasn’t been exposed to Russian all that much. When she first came, everyone was like, she’s shy, she’s shy. She’s not shy. I’ve seen her talk quite a bit and she even belts out singing when she thinks no one’s listening. I guess they were just trying to save face because she and I don’t speak the same language. Trust me though, if it’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that there are a million ways to communicate that don’t involve words. Since my Russian is improving I haven’t had to resort to charades or silly little pictures anymore but I have no problem dusting those off. Some of the best conversations I’ve had in this country were in the first month when I could only say 2 (very broken) sentences in Russian. I hope she warms up to me eventually.

On a totally unrelated note, some of other volunteers and I have noticed that our English has actually deteriorated since we’ve been here. I know, that seems impossible, we’re English teachers. I’m so used to speaking Russian that I have found I can’t come up with anything besides super-simplified, over-annunciated sentences in English. It just took me 2 minutes just to think of the word “deteriorating”. I ran this by a few other volunteers and they said it’s happening to them as well. Charlie actually had to spell the word, “hospital” in his head before he wrote it down. I said that shouldn’t be right though, my vocabulary should be at an all-time high since I’m ingesting so many books so quickly. I guess recognition is a lot easier than recollection. My worst slip-up was when (I’m SO ashamed to admit this) I wanted to say “better” and actually dropped the word, “gooder”. I know. I know. Charlie and Rick slowly turned their heads towards me with faces that registered reactions somewhere between disbelief and disgust.

Me fail English!? That’s unpossible!

Sleepy.

2006-05-12T02:08:00.000-07:00

I wouldn’t normally consider myself a light sleeper but last night at exactly 3:47 I heard a distinct rustling noise coming from under my bed. I shot straight up with a, “what the- ” look on my face. I must have looked like I was in the middle of an exorcism. I was frantically running around my room, shuffling curtains, shining my flashlight everywhere, thinking there was something terrible lurking under my bed (so much for getting over my fear of the dark). I would crawl close to my bed, pull something out of the way then dart back as if something was going to reach out and grab me. After looking for 15 minutes I almost convinced myself that it was only a nightmare and went back to bed. Almost. 5 minutes later, the same rustling sound. I woke up like a maniac. This time, I made no mistake, there was DEFINITELY something under my bed. I armed myself with a flip-flop ready to take down this boogie monster. One by one, I took out bags and boxes until I found my perpetrator walking around nonchalantly- a small, harmless, brown mouse that had crawled out from under a bag. I sighed, threw down my flip-flop and crawled into bed, too tired to try to devise a plan to trap it. Unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep for the rest of the night because I felt like mice were crawling all over me. I’m pretty sure if someone had seen me last night I think they would have died from laughter.

The next day, I told my host brother (cousin, whatever you want to call him) the story. He said that the mice have probably settled in our house because we don’t have a cat and if I want to go out and find a kitten or cat tomorrow, then I am welcome to bring it home. I swear, my ‘to do’ list has never been stranger than here in Kyrgyzstan. We had a kitten back in the winter but one day it just left and never came back. I didn’t think about it too hard because I didn’t want to consider the possibilities that caused that poor ragamuffin thing to disappear (Charlie’s old puppy was mauled then eaten by other dogs). It was the scrawniest, dirtiest kitten I’ve ever seen and I wanted nothing more than to give it a can of tuna and a bath… but I digress. I was going to do the humane thing by setting up a jar/ramp/cheese getup to trap the pesky mouse and set it free but after remembering my last sleepless night, I am headed to the bazaar tomorrow to find a mousetrap. No mercy. Or I can be really inhumane and fill the jar with water… muahahaha…. alright, even I’m not that evil.

So our “running water” has been really shoddy lately. I think it’s because a lot of it’s being used to water gardens and plants now that it’s warm outside. Even the “well” in our back yard was “dried up”. My host family said it might come back tonight or next week. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for tonight. So I went for a run and I’ve gotten into the habit of warming up some water after my run so I can kind of rinse the stench away until my next banya. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than nothing. Our village has one permanent source of water so I grabbed our two buckets and trekked back up the hill thinking it’d take me five minutes to get back. Mind you, I was already exhausted and drenched with sweat at this point since I made the mistake of going out when the heat reached it’s peak. So I filled my buckets and started to head back for home, which was much more difficult than I had originally anticipated on several fronts... first of all, I had to steady myself to keep it from sloshing out against my legs but my biceps aren’t manly enough to keep my arms in a permanent ‘curled’ position, so I literally had to put it down every 50 yards or so. Secondly, every time a car or truck went by, it kicked up a bunch of dust so I had to maneuver them so I didn’t end up washing myself with dirty water. Third of all, I got caught in a ‘lamb jam’ and I had to lift the water up high enough so the sheep didn’t try to drink the water. I just wanted to get some water but it turned out to be a full-blown obstacle course. By the time I got back, my arms were like jelly and it was a chore just to keep them lifted long enough to scrub my hair. Earlier, I was going to try to find some weights in Bishkek but I guess I already found my new arm workout.

I read somewhere that we filter 99.8% of our daily stimuli because our brain would be on overload if we took everything in from all of our senses. Here, I feel like I’m on sensory overload all the time, my brain filter must have stopped working a while ago. Everything I do here, even the smallest task feels like it takes 20 times more energy then it would back home. Back in PST a few volunteers and I joked that we only have the capability to do one thing a day before we were absolutely, completely worn out, “ok, I brushed my teeth today, I guess I’ll make my bed tomorrow” or, “alright, I tied my left shoe today, I’ll get to that right shoe tomorrow.” Everyday, if I’ve done so much as gotten out of bed, gotten dressed, brushed my teeth and washed my face I already feel like I’ve accomplished enough for an entire week.

My mom called today and I must have sounded groggy because she asked if I had been sleeping. I told her I took about an hour nap and that I was so exhausted but I have no idea why. At the end of our conversation she scolded me and said, “geez, Katie, think about it for a second and give yourself more credit, you were up half the night mouse-hunting, taught 6 lessons today, went for a run, hauled 2 buckets of water up a hill for a bucket bath and you finally sat down for a second to breathe- no WONDER you’re tired. Didn’t that occur to you?” Haha, no, I guess it hadn’t.

No Worries.

2006-04-30T23:06:00.001-07:00

I just didn't want anyone to worry about me because I won't be posting for another couple weeks. My director took a vacation so he won't be able to review my blogs until he gets back and I think I am assuming correctly that he'll also have a lot of other stuff to take care of. I think it'll be one of those situations where I'll end up posting four or five blogs at a time every few weeks. It's not ideal because a lot of the material will be dated by then but I don't really have a choice. Oh well.

A little shout out:

Jess, I forgot to do this one earlier, but thanks so much for the Curious George Soundtrack, I love it so much and I listen to it all the time. I am circulating the disc around to the other volunteers so they can put it on their i-pods too.

The month of May should go by quickly, only 27 days, 15 hours and 32 minutes until I leave for Istanbul...

So Serious.

2006-04-27T01:46:00.000-07:00

I have never been a person to take myself seriously. Those of you who know me know that when people laugh at me, I am usually laughing the hardest. Well I reached a new low last week in school. I was teaching body parts and illnesses to my 10th grade class and in front of them I sang the "heads, shoulders, knees and toes" song. I think all my students lost a little respect for me after I did that. Note to self: only sing and dance in front of my 6th grade class.

One of my best friends from Australia noticed how people always seem to come to my rescue and help me out. He said, something about you just screams helpless and people are always just waiting to take care of you. I really couldn't argue with him, I know I'm not entirely helpless but I do seem to elicit help from other people pretty frequently. On purpose or not. So lately my village cow hasn't been producing much milk and I love to eat oatmeal in the mornings and I'm sick of just plain water. The other day I went on a quest to find out who else sells milk in the village. I went to 3 houses and finally I asked a grandpa if he knew where I could go to get milk. He must have been so happy that I asked him because he personally took me around to each of the houses where he knew sold the best milk and bought me a liter. He's actually one of my neighbors and he told me that he sees me walking around all the time but has never tried to talk to me so he asked me the standard, "what are you doing here" questions. Even 10,000 miles away from home, people don't think I'm self-reliant.

Side note: Mary Ellen, I am snacking on the pop tarts you sent me right now and they taste sooooo good. Thanks again for being so thoughtful.

I have always noticed young boys playing outside in the streets and they are always playing this game involving rocks. I finally started paying more attention and after watching them all line up and take turns throwing their rocks, it occurred to me that they are actually playing "bocce ball" without the shiny colorful ready-made balls. It never ceases to amaze me how resourceful kids can be, no matter what country they're in.

6 is a crowd.

2006-04-25T04:15:00.000-07:00

So my host brother went back to his hometown, Kochkor for a few days and brought back with him a huge smile and… his little sister. Recently, his 17-year-old sister was kidnapped and his family is afraid that his 15-year-old sister will be kidnapped too, far too young for a bride, even by Kyrgyz standards. So now she’s living here and is going to find a job in the city, and maybe finish school? But I don’t know if that’s in the plans or not. So now we have 6 people living in my house, Bocktaer and I have our own rooms, Jildez and Kundus share a room, Japara sleeps in our living room on the couch and now his little sister is sleeping in our “dining room”. As for now, I’m laying low, observing how things are going, waiting for the fun to start. Earlier Jildez told me that everyone was leaving and by summer it would just be Jildez, Kundus and I but as far as I can see, we keep adding, not subtracting people.

The weather has been warm all week which means the kids turned into little hooligans over night. When I first came here, I was like a novelty to them, they listened, they worked, they hung on my every word. Now that they realize I’m just a normal person and not some superhero from America, they lost all interest in me and could really care less about my English lessons. Trying to motivate my students is the hardest part and this week I had it up to here (think forehead) with them. They know I’m not going to punish them but now they are blatantly taking advantage of me (coming into class 30 minutes late, talking through the entire lesson) and I’ve had enough. This was probably my most eventful week so far. I broke up my first fight; I threw one kid out of class, I told one kid not to come for the rest of the quarter and canceled my English club for an entire class of kids who didn’t do their homework. Look who's boss, now.

Death becomes us.

2006-04-25T04:13:00.000-07:00

Ever since being here I have taken on a new perspective of life and how to deal with the end of it. Every time I am on the 45-minute marshrutka ride back from Bishkek I pass through miles and miles of cemeteries and graveyards. It seems like it is the main area where the people of Kyrgyzstan are laid to rest. Some of them are on hillsides, some of them are on valleys, some of them have gravestones, and some of them have mausoleums.

I think its part of the culture not to attach sadness as a means to deal with death. Yes, people mourn, but it’s in the context of paying respects, not for what is actually gone. My host Mama is 69 years old and she talks about dying all the time and every time she starts, I go to yell at her to tell her not to “talk like that”. Tanya corrects me and says, no she’s old, and it’s about her time. There’s no morbid undertone. They don’t assign meaning to death like that. Here you live your life and when you are unable to do all of the things you have done for yourself all along, then that’s it. It’s your time and they know when that time is and they’re ready. They’re ready without regrets, they just know that they have done the best they could.

For fear of sounding too psychological, I will try to be brief- but also since being here, life has changed in meaning for me too. Back at home we put so much emphasis on the question, “Am I happy?” And we wonder if our lives are fulfilling. I guess that is expected considering we don’t have to worry about where our next meal is going to come from or if we’ll have enough money to heat our home through the next winter. Here, it’s not a question of happiness, it’s a question of duty. Are you doing your job? Are you doing it well? It just seems like downsizing makes everything so much less complicated. Don’t worry though, I haven’t done a total 180… I still love my ipod just as much as the next person.

Indirect

2006-04-25T04:05:00.000-07:00

During our Pre-Service Training everyone tried to drill in our heads that this is an indirect culture and people won’t tell you if you are offending them or doing something wrong. I have one response: not true. This is as direct of a culture as I have ever seen one, more direct than anything I have previously experienced. I have been put in my place more times than I can count including the time the Russian lady told me that I needed to be skinny. Indirect? Not so much.

The other day I was sitting on a marshrutka with a box filled with Easter candy (thanks, Mom!) and a heavy bag at my feet. This girl, my age or younger was sitting next to me and another guy was sitting next to her. Let me just say that I am a huge baby about standing on the marshrutka on my ride home. I have had my face in more armpits than I’d like to count and having it pressed against the glass isn’t a pleasant alternative. With that said, this grandma approached us and as I’m waiting for the girl next to me to give her seat up, I’m sending a few nasty looks her way until the guy finally stands up. The grandma looked at both the girl and me and said, “and you are both younger than he is and you didn’t even think to give your seats up, you should be ashamed of yourselves.” I gave a feeble, “I don’t speak Russian, look at this heavy box on my lap” whimpering look but she didn’t seem to accept that as a good enough explanation.

Another time, back in December, Tana and I were waiting for the rest of our group to show up at the ballet, we were all going to see the Nutcracker. We had stopped and sat on the ledge for about .5 seconds when this man came up behind us and scolded us for sitting on the cement (the common legend here is that if a girl sits down on the cold ground then her ovaries will freeze). This is when our Russian skills were even worse than they are now so we didn’t quite understand what he was getting at until he started to motion towards us like he was about to push us. We quickly got the point after that.

Women and my sisters in particular always nag me to wear make-up and do my hair. It mostly comes down to me being lazy and not wanting to put the time and effort into looking decent. Like college, only worse. Seeing pictures of me really drives the point home when they see my long hair and made-up face. Half the time people don’t even realize it’s me. Am I really that hideous??

Practically every time someone figures out that I am an American they quickly bombard me with questions. I have finally gotten used to the, “which is better, here or there?” question and have a pretty standard, diplomatic answer, “it’s not better here, it’s not better there, it’s just different”. The other two most common questions (simultaneously) are, ‘How old are you?’ and ‘Are you Married?’ The minute “22 and no” escapes my mouth they are already telling me that I’m old and that I should be married by now and how they already had 7 children by my age and how no one’s going to want to marry me past the age of 23 (there goes all my hopes and dreams) then they usually proposition me with a son or distant relative that they want to marry off. I usually have a pretty sour taste in my mouth at this point so I just say that I don’t need a husband and I don’t want to get married now or ever (which usually sends them into fits of hysteria and rambling rants about how women need men). I wasn’t even aware that I had a biological clock before I got here but now I feel like it’s more of a biological time bomb.

I am constantly on the defensive here, making sure I don’t step on any toes and follow the correct protocol for standing on marshrutkas. My Russian is finally getting better to be able to understand and respond to certain situations. Me being the kind of person I am, have even started to provoke people once they start getting on my case. I figure I have to keep myself entertained if I am going to go through a long line of questioning about the lack of husband and children in my life. Now I find it kind of funny and besides, I don’t even see why it should matter at this point; after all, my ovaries are already frozen.

Fears.

2006-04-25T04:03:00.000-07:00

One thing I have successfully done in Kyrgyzstan so far has been getting over my fear of the dark. I know, I know, what business does a 22-year old having being afraid of the dark? For 20 years (minus the 2 years I was still crawling around) I have been conditioned to creep around corners, expecting something to jump out of me at any minute- I am sure it has nothing to do with the fact that my older brother and I had “scaring wars” for a good 15 years. I’d have to say the worst was when he waited under my bed for oh, I don’t know, 3 hours- just until the moment I was about to tuck myself into bed for a blissful night’s sleep when he reached out from underneath and grabbed my ankles. At 10 years old, I was about to set the record for being the youngest person in history to have a heart attack. Anyone who has heard me scream before knows my shrill, blood-curling trademark; I guess I developed that perfect ‘horror movie’ scream after many years of practice. At night I still have a lot more stuff to be afraid of here, such as random town drunks and rabid dogs going through the trash but I have seem to have gotten over my fear. I know this because I can now walk to my outhouse back and forth without a flashlight (before I was armed with a flashlight, a stick, and a rock). Alright, so I may not be over my fear 100% but I’m getting there.

I know I said I’d write about what I’ve been doing for the last month or so but frankly I just don’t have the energy to sit down, rehash everything and put it into words eloquent enough to grace my dear reader’s eyes. I’m emotional enough as it is without having to live through everything twice. So let me just say that IST was a really good time, but now a lot of it is only remembered as one big blur. I guess that’s expected when we had around 7 hours of sessions a day then partied from 5 p.m. into the wee hours of the morning... Every. Single. Night. It’s the first time I felt like I was in college since, well… college. Plus we had a lot more at stake here because the next time we will all be together again as a group is in another 8 months. Then after that not till the very end at our Close of Service conference. I definitely wore myself out. We all did. As overwhelming as it was at times it turned out to be a lot of fun.

Also, I haven’t written because not a whole lot has been going on. I had my spring break for 2 weeks but it was really slow because we were banned from travel the entire time because of the anniversary of the revolution. I read, studied Russian, read and studied Russian. That’s about it. The travel restriction timing couldn’t have been worse because a few of us wanted to go down to Jalal-abad or Osh for spring break. Oh well. I guess I’ll have to make time for all that in the next two years.

Last weekend (4.7.06) I went back to Koshoi to see my old host family. Some of the Kyrgyz group ended up going home too because Anna’s birthday and her host Mom’s were both in April. Our plan was to all hang out at my house like old times but I got really really sick again (food poisoning? parasites? no idea?) so I basically laid around all weekend, moaning and groaning in agony. My host mom pulled out the big guns when she said, “you’re not allowed to leave this house until you finish your bowl of rice” my response wasn’t any better, I pouted and pouted and ate one grain of rice at a time until I finished two full tablespoons and finally pushed it away. I guess if I am treated like a child, I also tend to act like one. So all week I’ve had absolutely no energy to do anything and I just feel weak and run down. It’s weird, back home I used to get really sick once a year- here it seems to be once a month. At least I know to expect it now.

Oh yeah, I am also happy to report (for those who care) that my hair is now shoulder-length. For those who didn’t know, I chopped off a good 12 inches of my hair right before I left and donated it to locks-for-love to make the once-a-week banya washings easier. In a lot of ways it turned out to be a blessing because it’s much more manageable this way (and by, ‘manageable’ I really mean, ‘I hate it. It’s ugly. I can’t wait for it to grow back because when I chopped my hair off, it took my personality with it’). I’m waiting to trim it in Turkey because I don’t want someone to botch it. I’ve seen too many bad hairstyles happen to good people here.

A few people have sent me e-mails regarding my mysterious last post that included the Pink Floyd lyrics with no explanation. I have always been a spoiler of surprises but this time there isn’t one. I have been listening to the song for the past few months and just find it shockingly appropriate at times and since I was lazy and didn’t want to post, I thought it would be a good alternative. That’s all. Besides, ‘you’ know who ‘you’ are. Muahahaha.

Patience.

2006-04-21T21:23:00.000-07:00

I am still waiting for clearance on whether or not I can post my 4 most recent posts but I'm being patient.

But I did want to thank some people really quickly:

Mary Ellen, I got your package, thanks so much! You're right about candy being a good way into kid's hearts, I can't wait to use it in my lessons as prizes and stuff like that. I recall one instance when a volunteer bought a snickers as a game prize. Well as it turns out, none of the kids listened and were being too rowdy so he stopped the game, opened up the snickers and ate it in front of all the kids. I hope it doesn't come to that for me.

Julie, you're the best big sis ever! I got the magazines and pictuers you sent, you and Christian look so cute together!

Kathy, I got your Easter package, I definitely went on a sugar binge last night and thanks for the earrings too, hopefully I'll start to feel girly again!

Mrs. John, I got the pictures you sent from Lace's bachelorette party, as usual you girls look great and thanks for the magazines, I will definitely use them for lesson plans when I finish reading them!

Hi Kathy!

2006-04-14T01:09:00.000-07:00

Hey Kathy. I promise all is well, it's just now I have to follow a certain procedure before I can post it because like I said before, freedom does not come without certain consequences. Don't worry, I do have some stuff to post soon it's just in transition right now. Coming soon...

I wish...

2006-04-10T00:14:00.000-07:00

So, so you think you can tell Heaven from Hell,
blue skies from pain.
Can you tell a green field from a cold steel rail?
A smile from a veil?
Do you think you can tell?
And did they get you to trade your heroes for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange a walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We're just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.

- Pink Floyd, Wish you were here

I need your help!

2006-03-31T00:56:00.000-08:00

Alright, I know I haven't posted in ages- the truth is, I have been afraid to blog after some of the events that have transpired here. In America, free speech is something that we have been used to all of our lives, I now know that in Kyrgyzstan it is a privilege, not a right. I am not used to censoring myself but it will be something I have to get accustomed to if I want to speak about my experiences here. What I say does have an effect on the people, country and culture here. With that said, I will try to give you the most honest version of what I'm doing here but I will also exercise this right with caution.

PHEW! So now that that's off my chest, I have so much to write and talk about so in the upcoming week I will sit down and sort through everything that has happened here. In a very short version, IST was not what I expected (nothing ever is) but it was great to see all the volunteers- I must say that the highlight of the week was when our team, the Chui team (Me, Charlie, Rick, Annie and Laurie- a guest member subbing for Scott) won the K-13 IST Flip Cup Tournament. Who's house?! Our house!

But let me get down to business. I need your help. The K-12s and the K-13s want to join up to help our old host village Koshoi. Koshoi has seen 3 groups of trainees come and go through 3 months of training, but we want to do something to give back to our community, something permanent. We want to develop a resource center so the children can practice their language without having to resort to old Soviet materials- I am sure they don't need texts on collective farming anymore. So here is what you can do to help: search through your basements for old children's books or magazines (think Highlights for Kids or Sports Illustrated for Kids) and send any materials that you don't need. At the end of May we're going to compile our materials, present them to the secondary school in Koshoi, fix up an area of the school and designate it as a place where kids can study and learn. I know that books and such weigh a lot but the Postal Service offers something called an M-Bag which allows you to send educational materials at a subsidized price. The minimum weight limit is 11 pounds which costs $11.50. The actual conversion may be a little more but the standard is around $1 per pound. Before you do anything, call and confirm that your local post office offers this service for parcels to Kyrgyzstan. I know all you fresh-out-of-college kids are poor too, but if you forgo going out one night during a weekend, then the costs of sending these materials should even itself out. So if you do what you can, myself and these children would be infinitely grateful. Also, this is just one project that I am working on- I know there will be MANY more opportunities for you guys to help but this is one that is underway right now. You can send the materials to this address:

Kyrgyzstan
Bishkek 720000
Central Post Office
Persavich

Again, thank you in advance and after May, I will give you an update with how it all turned out.

And stay tuned- I promise to fill you all in on what I've been doing for the last month.

Quick shout out:

It is always interesting to me to learn who is reading my blog. Sometimes I feel like I'm not reaching anyone through cyberspace but it's always encouraging to get feedback. I was so surprised to learn that a K-4 was reading my blog. Cari- I can't imagine life in Kyrgyzstan 10 years ago but something tells me that not much has changed at the same time. I hadn't thought about getting Vick's at the PCMO but I'll definitely have to try it out. I have thought about compiling my experiences into a book too when I get out of here, but right now it seems too ambitious to even think about! Anyway, thanks for your awesome comments and it's because of volunteers like you that this program has existed for so long!

Spring!

2006-03-08T01:07:00.000-08:00

The weather is improving and I have noticed that my attitude and moods have followed suit. I wore a skirt to work every day last week and even wore short sleeves on one day. I have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of winter’s wrath but I am trying to enjoy the sun while it lasts. I had a fairly busy week… it’s much easier to be motivated when you don’t have to wear two pairs of long underwear to brave the winter weather.

On Tuesday I went for a hike with my student and host sister last week to take pictures of my village (which I promise I will post on webshots sometime this century). It was a little cloudy but you can still see the mountains pretty well. Unfortunately during the hike I lost the key to my room and the key to my schoolroom. I wasn’t worried about the room in my house because I have extra keys but I thought the school skeleton key would be harder to replace. I made my student come with me to the zavootch’s (assistant-principal) house to make sure there was another key so I could copy it. Unfortunately for me, it was her birthday and she and several other teachers were celebrating at her house. Talk about embarrassing. They quickly assured me that it wouldn’t be a problem and that I could have another one made. (Thank God because it was getting dark and I know there would have been no way to retrace our steps to see where I lost them). Mini-crisis averted. Phew.

Peace Corps 45th anniversary was on Wednesday so most of the volunteers in the Chui region went to the office open house to celebrate. There were a lot of important people there including the ambassador and directors of NGOs around Bishkek. They renewed our country’s contract here, which is always a good sign. Plus it was an excuse to eat a lot of yummy, free food.

On Thursday, Daniar, and I to see a modern version of the Nutcracker that the zavootch’s son performed in. The costumes were beautiful (even though I don’t recall Dalmatians or tigers being an original part of the ballet).

At 6 a.m. Friday morning I awoke to blaring music and my oldest sister doing her “morning exercises” of her running in place. She can’t weigh more than 110 pounds but it sounded like there were elephants in the next room. I decided I had had it with living in the sorority house. I forked over my last month’s rent to Jildes and told her I was moving out. She said, “What about our plans?! We need to plant a garden, we need to teach you how to can tomatoes and pickles and jam and what about our summer trip to jilo (pasture) to sleep in a yurt? I thought you were going to teach us yoga?” Then she cried. My heart absolutely broke. I know we’ve gotten really close in the past 3 months but I didn’t think I’d elicit this response from her. I was like all right, one more month but if things are still like they are, then I’m going to find a different family or move into an apartment. Hopefully I’ll start to see an improvement because I can’t live like this anymore.

My life came to a screeching halt this week because my mom sent me the first season of 24 on DVD. I had never seen the show before and didn’t understand the hype but I was absolutely addicted. I finished the entire season in one week and my low point was when I watched 6 episodes in one day because I didn’t have to teach the next day. At least when I was reading for that amount of time I felt like an educated couch potato, now I just feel like a couch potato. I just want to finish the show so I can get my life back. Oh. So that’s what it feels like to be addicted to crack.

On Thursday all the volunteers are coming up to Bishkek for our In-Service Training. I can’t wait to see everyone. I know the classes and days are going to be long but at least we’ll all be together. It will be good to see some new faces and see how people have grown and changed, etc.

Oh yeah, the other day I was walking through schools and I saw this 11th grader roughhousing this poor 5th grader. I usually don’t interfere (I don’t want to inflict the fight upon myself) but this time I said, “no, that’s not allowed, don’t do that”, and the larger student responded, “He is small, yes?” I was so proud that he correctly conjugated the verb ‘to be’ that I forgot all about him beating up the smaller student.

Quick shout out:

Annette, Ronnie, Aaron and Abby, I got your package, thanks so much. I never realized how much I miss pez!

A day in the life...

2006-02-27T02:08:00.000-08:00

As frustrating as it can be that my sister’s won’t speak Russian to me, I have to say sometimes I appreciate Jildes’ and I’s conversations when they’re half and half because combined we have a much larger vocabulary. She wants to learn English slang and idioms to be able to understand when I talk to my friends and she’s constantly asking me to translate songs. I couldn’t give her a good enough answer for songs like, “candyshop”, “dirty” and “my humps” but I was able to tell her what “ghetto” meant in definition and in slang. So the other day we were getting ready to watch a movie on my laptop, which unfortunately has a teeny crack through the monitor because my porter dropped it when I was in Fiji. After I explained what happened she looks at it for a minute and asks, “is it… ghetto?” and I burst out laughing hysterically. She was like, “What? What? Is that right?” And I was like, “yeah, that’s exactly right, this laptop is ghetto.” It’s always one of my proudest moments when one of my students actually remembers what I say and then correctly use it in context but this topped all of that, she used the word “ghetto” correctly. Hey, I said I was going to come here to teach English… that includes slang too, right?

A major topic of conversation between volunteers is always about how we are losing a sense of what’s “normal”. Not that things are necessarily abnormal here but just different from what we’re used to. (That’s me being culturally sensitive). The thing that bothers me about marshrutkas is that there is too much protocol for when you should give up your seat. Old babooshka? Any man under the age of 25 would be expected to give up his seat but every time I try to give up mine, most people insist I sit down. But the other day there was mitigating circumstances: a screaming hungry baby in a jam-packed marshurtka. I stood up to give the mother my seat but in all the confusion there was no where for me to go so I ended up sitting on the Turkish woman’s lap while she breastfed her son. Is that normal?

I have also realized that the 5-second rule does not apply in this country. There was one particular night out in Adam’s Morgan this past summer where Craig and I ended our debauchery with a Jumbo Slice nightcap. I took one bite and accidentally dropped it on the cement, cheese side down. I think Craig understood my thought process as I stood there, contemplating the logistics of picking it back up and eating it. To stop me from doing something out-of-control he looked at me, looked at the pizza, stepped on it and said, “no” in a way that someone scolds a small child. I am happy to report that no one has to take such drastic measures to keep me eating a dirty germy slice of pizza here. The other day I was waiting for a marshurtka (one of my most time consuming tasks) and this grandma looked at me, scowled at me and blew a monstrous snot rocket on the ground. I was quite impressed by the trajectory and velocity from which a glob of mucus (I hate that word) flew from her nose. I feel like I could practice that move everyday for the next two years and I still wouldn’t acquire that skill.

Recently I’ve been getting a lot of inquiries on what to send and what kind of stuff that I need here. I can actually get a lot of stuff at Beta Store, a Turkish grocery store, which I usually refer to as “heaven”. They carry a lot of American products and although there is a 100% mark-up, sometimes I can justify spoiling myself with a $7 jar of extra crunchy peanut butter. I hate making requests but I figure some suggestions wouldn’t hurt. I don’t want anyone to feel obligated to send me anything, because letters are just as good as a package… with that said, here is my “wish list”:

Trashy magazines (the trashier the better with Life and Style topping the list- Libbey, Tiffany, I know you understand)
Beef jerky, turkey jerky, tuna jerky… whatever as long as it’s rock hard meat (I am dying for protein because I don’t get enough of it)
Any old DVD’s that you’re sick of or you just don’t like. (I watched Monster-In-Law twice in a row and thought it was Oscar-worthy - that’s how desperate I am for movies).
Mac and Cheese or any other snack-type stuff.
Facial or body scrub (I only shower once a week, you know?)

I think that covers it for now, I’ll try to add stuff as I go along but like I said, there is no really big pressing need and letters will do just fine too, I know you fresh-out-of-college-kids are just as poor as I am. One thing I don’t need is pads or tampons. Our Peace Corps Medical Office is awesome and they take good care of those types of things.

Quick shout outs:

Lace, I got your pictures, your puppy is so adorable and you look fantastic!

Tiffany, I got your Valentine’s package but I’m ashamed to admit that the candy did not last for more than 3 minutes. I think I set some kind of record wolfing that chocolate down. Thanks so much!

My Mom also wrote out instructions on how to call me because she figured that maybe if people knew how to call cheaply then they would (thanks Jase ;o) So here they are:

1. Go to Nobelcom.'s website:
http://www.nobelcom.com/nobelcom/jsp/home/nobelcom_home.jsp

2. Search for phone cards- From: United States To: Kyrgyzstan - cell

3. Four phone cards will come up: the best one we found is the 3rd one :
Call Kyrgyzstan Cellular, Nobelcom $20
Rate: 12.5cents
No Connection Fee
Rechargeable Card
Pinless Dialing
Minutes - 160 - $20.00

4. Select "Buy Now"

5. You will be directed to a page that asks for information; profile name (?), name, address, e-mail address, phone number, and credit card information.

6. They will send you an e-mail confirmation of your purchase. It sometimes happens automatically, sometimes takes about 5 minutes. Could be up to 20 minutes before you can use the card.

7. You will receive this message: Thank you for shopping with NobelCom.com!
If your order has been automatically confirmed, your calling card PINs will be sent by email in a few minutes.
Your order may be subject to additional confirmation. To confirm your order, please call
Local: 1-760-517-0765

8. To call Katie: Use calling instructions they send: They give a 1-800 number, but from whatever state you are in, you can link from their site onto a page that has local access numbers. From Virginia I use the Warrenton number: 703-468-0692. Then enter your PIN number that is given at the top of the e-mail they send you. (The PIN number is the same as your Password for future orders.) Then dial Katie's cell phone number: 011-996-502-173-582#(Pound).

7. The best time to call Katie is from 6:00 AM to 10:00 AM our time which is her evening or anytime past 10:00 PM our time which is her morning (our 9:00 AM is Katie's 8:00 PM, our 10:00 PM is her 9:00 AM)

8. There is a good chance of getting disconnected while talking to her, the instructions say you can just re-enter her phone number followed by the pound sign, but often you will have to re-enter the access number, your pin, and her phone number and the # sign. It is annoying but just because Kyrgyzstan has cell towers and phone access doesn’t necessarily mean that it works flawlessly. Nevertheless, I have always re-connected and can continue my conversation.

Grab and run.

2006-02-24T22:40:00.000-08:00

This article on Bride Kidnapping has been called to my attention recently. I haven't wrote about it yet but it's basically a tradition where a guy can snag any girl off the street and make her a wife. Think she's pretty? Nevermind asking her out on a date, just steal her. It's one of the only traditions that I find that is really unfortunate and some people here think so too but they also know it's a tradition so they abide by it. My 21 year old sister is really worried about it because she wants to marry for love instead. Smart girl. My cousin's sister was just kidnapped and I was surprised by his response. He told me he offered to go and get her back but his parents declined and said it's too late. Too late for the rest of your life?! Some other guys asked me what I would do if it happened to me, I said it's not my tradition so I would never marry someone who kidnapped me unless he was ridiculously good looking and rich (ok, sorry, no time for jokes). Read the article though, it's interesting and well explained and is a major part of the culture here.

Sand castle cemeteries.

2006-02-24T22:02:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling unoriginal and not very creative so I don't have too much to say. I think I'm going to have to password protect my blog because I said some insensitive things that may be offensive to the culture so all you stalkers (kidding) are going to have to e-mail me so I can send my password out to you. Don't crowd my inbox yet, I'll let you know when. Does anyone know html? I have no idea and I have to put a disclaimer on my blog but I don't know how to format it in. Suggestions would be helpful. Thanks in advance.

I have heard from my brother (grrr, Nick) once or twice since I've been here but one of my favorites was when he said, "I was taking a dump at work the other day and I thought about you halfway around the world pooping in a hole." He's so eloquent.

Tiffany, sent me an e-mail that said:

Libbey, Ben and I were watching Family Guy the other day and they played one where Chris goes joins the Peace Corps to avoid going to high school and we were like awwwww, Katie. It was so funny cus he was on some tribal island where everyone was wearing loin cloths and face paint and they made Chris do the same and he quickly realized it was cool to be naked in front of people. And the people asked him to sing a song for them and he busts into this whole song and dance of, "Wake Me Up," by George Michael. It was so funny.

Let me just say that this is very similar to my experience except that I joined Peace Corps to avoid real life, not everyone wears loin cloths but I do every opportunity I get, it is cool to be naked in front of people and I burst into George Michael song and dances all the time, too. You should see my "Father Figure" rendition.

Bosterie was a really good time, it was nice to get away, it was really pretty but I think it will be much better in the summer when it's warmer. We basically hung out, watched 6 episodes of "Lost", "Point Break" and ate spaghetti. Perfect weekend to me, though. When I got back, my marshurtka driver asked me how my trip was. That's funny, I never told him that I was going in the first place. I love how my every action is well documented by people within a five mile radius of my village. I miss anonymity.

The cemeteries here are really gorgeous. A while ago, they put a cap on how much money you can spend on your gravesite but no one really pays attention to that law. Instead of the usual tombstones, practically everyone has their own monument and gated grave site. The ones in Bosterie all looked like sand castles. Some of them are built on hill sides and on top of mountains. Not a bad way to settle into eternity.

The best thing I did this week was buy my plane ticket to Turkey. I am going in June and am meeting my family in Istanbul and we're also going to Bodrum and Cyprus. I am so excited to wear high heels and short skirts. My brother bought his girlfriend Kathy a plane ticket so she'll be coming too which I'm also psyched about. As much fun as it would be to go clubbing with Nick, it will be much better now that I have a girl to dance with. It will give me something to look forward to... only 3 months, 2 days and 16 hours to go (but who's counting?).

Leave it to Russians...

2006-02-16T20:48:00.000-08:00

... to tell it like it is. So yesterday was Scott's birthday. He's a volunteer living in Bishkek and he's married to Leslie, they are one of the 6 married couples in our group. (Leslie and Scott hate it when we call them "mom" and "dad" but we can't help it sometimes given that we are all a bunch of punk 22 year olds and they are around our parents age.) So anyways, I figured it'd be nice to pick up a bottle of his favorite red wine and some cake for a present. I go into the store but a whole cake is expensive and I didn't know which one would be good, so I decided on ordering 4 different individual slices instead. One Russian lady was helping me and here's how our conversation went:

Me: Give me please, a piece of that cake, a piece of that, a piece of that, and a piece of that.
Russian Lady: (laughs) Do you really want all that? You need to lose weight.
Me: (contemplating a future eating disorder) No, no, it's not for me, it's not for me.
RL: (eyeing me suspiciously) You need to be skinny.
Me: It's for my Dad, it's his birthday today.
RL: (eyeing my hips suspiciously) Well, ok, then you should get a whole cake.
Me: No, I think that's enough, thanks.

I haven't been trying to lose weight, I haven't even lost all that much, it's just been a product of being here. It's funny, my self esteem was getting a little high, I'm glad she brought it right back down again where it belongs.

Charlie and I are going to Bosterie today to see Bohee, I think we both need a break from Chui valley. I haven't been to Issy-kul (the only lake in Kyrgyzstan) yet but it's supposed to be the crowning jewel of the country. I am excited to see it although it will be too cold to swim. It'll be good to see some different faces though.

Valentine's Day was just like any other day, pretty girls running around showing off how many cards they received to their no-so-pretty friends who sulked in the corner. I thought it would be a cute, fun idea to have my students hand-make Valentines in English. I started it with my 11th form class. They had these looks on their faces like, "you want us to color what?" but I pretended I didn't understand and passed out the crayons. I taught them phrases like be mine, I love you, sweet heart, and you're dumped and told them about our traditions of giving chocolate and flowers to loved ones. I intended them to give the valentines to each other, but at the end of the class they all ended up on a pile on my desk. I was like, no no, I'm not collecting them, give them away. One of my star students told me to read them and they were all addressed to me... not what I had intended. They were pretty funny though. One girl called me her angel and one boy professed his love for me. Mine on the other hand was addressed to Charlie and I guess I've been listening to too much Stephen Stills lately because it said, "if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with". I never was a romantic one.

Quick shout out:

Mr. Puryear, I got your letter and the picture of when Jordan was a little boy was ADORABLE. Thank you for your kind words, a lot of what we do here goes unappreciated but it's nice to know that we still have support from back home. You know you're a Texan when the opening line of a letter is "well dip me in sugar and finish me off." Very sweet.

This sh*t is bananas

2006-02-10T02:02:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was walking around Bishkek and I had a craving for a banana, so I bought one. Let me tell you what a rare occurrence this is. Bananas are 15 sohm which is relatively expensive on my salary. When I started eating it, I immediately felt guilty because bananas are a luxury many people can't afford. I was walking and eating at the same time and I could feel people's stares (even more than usual). I think next time I have a banana craving, I'll eat it in the privacy of my own room and then stash the peel somewhere. I never thought I'd be a fruit-smuggler before.

I have always been a lover of dogs and children but living here has tested my patience with both. Not babies in particular, but any child under the age of 5. I was sitting down yesterday and this kid ran up to me, zapped me and ran away. I gave this look of "what-the-", I am so going to find your mother, but she was no where to be found. I guess that explains it. And dogs. Don't even get me started. I always thought, "what kind of an idiot gets bitten by a dog?!" (no offense, Charlie, Tana and Tim) until I was home last weekend and I was at Phil's host family and their dog (aptly) named Fox was gnawing the crap out of my leg. I don't think it hurt so much as I was surprised by it. Little bastard.

I am pretty used to getting ripped off by now but I have gotten pretty keen on my Russian bargaining skills. I was buying two pairs of hand-knitted socks for 300 sohm total and I talked her down to 250. By the time the whole business was said and done I felt so bad for cheating this poor grandma out of 50 sohm (roughly one dollar) for a pair of socks she made with her own hands, so I just told her not to worry about my change. I'm either getting ripped off or feeling bad for getting a fair price for something. Either way I pay the same amount. I need to stop consulting my conscience so much in this country.

(Censored by Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan)

I'm just about to hit my 5 month mark here and I was thinking about how much of a different person I was before and about how naive I was. I imagine that Martha (the K-11 I visited in Karakol) had a good laugh to herself when I asked if the milk she was drinking was skim, I now understand her the look on her face when she said, "we got it from the nearest neighbor who owns a cow". I laugh every time I'm on my way to our neighbors house with a jar in my hand to pay 10 sohm for a liter of milk. And I used to care that when I was in the banya you use one basin for all of your washing, before I got grossed out that I put my feet in it, then my face in it but now I don't care and realize that it's all going to get (semi) clean anyway. Whenever I go to the public banya, I don't even give it second thought about who's face or feet have been in the basin before me. It's going to be a rude awakening when I come back in two years when people expect me to shower everyday and get a new change of clothes (we wear the same thing for a week here). I guess that's too soon to be thinking about anyway. I just think my concept of normal is getting more and more distorted as time goes by here.

Alright I know this was a really random blog entry but it has just been a culmination of things that I've been thinking about lately. I feel like this blog isn't accurately representative of my life here but I have a hard time putting most things into words. My life here is a constant joke that ends with the punch line, "guess you had to be there."

Quick shout outs:

Mrs. John, I got your letter today with the pictures, Lacey's bridal shower must have been so much fun, I wish I could have been there too. And girls (Lace, Brin, Krott, Jenn and Halie) you guys look gorgeous, it was nice to see you all. My first thought was, "they all look so... so... healthy! and young, and vibrant." The way I've been treating/damaging my body it's no wonder that I've aged so quickly in so little time.

And Jase, I love you so much, you're the best. It was so good to hear your voice, you brightened my entire month.

And the rest of you, I hate to complain but my letter-return-rate is sub-par at best. I can't help it that I hate going to the internet here, I never have enough time, I'm always rushed and I never get to say everything I want to say so letters it is for me. I know you all are super busy with your own lives but don't make me divorce you all when I get home, just go make friends with your local postman. Some of you are doing great though and I appreciate and love the effort and it literally makes my whole week that much better to get something tangible from home.

Luche, no ne otleatchna...

2006-02-05T00:40:00.000-08:00

That means... better but not great. I am still struggling and coping but I feel a lot better because I went home to my first host family and they pretty much babied me all weekend which is what I needed. My mom showered me with kisses and even tucked me in at night. I went to see all of the other volunteers families and they all claimed I was too skinny (I'm not) and (force) fed me a bunch of delicious food. I miss being around Russians constantly. My mom is insane, she is always carrying on about something but now that I actually understand her, she's actually pretty funny. I was able to relax and not be on edge about anything. The only thing the families in Koshoi want me to do is love them and come home often (and bring cake when I do). And that's it. Next time I feel like I can't take another day, I'm hopping on the first marshurutka and going home. She even made me grilled cheese but I must have not explained it clearly enough because she made a grilled peanut butter and cheese sandwich. I ate it anyway.

This week we have quarantine because 1/2 the students are ill and the other half don't come anyway and our school is cold because we don't have heat so I am going to basically study Russian nonstop until Thursday and work on the scarf that I'm knitting Charlie (another volunteer) and avoid my oldest sister. Danier, my favorite students' Father has been helping me with Russian lessons and I've been hanging out at their house a lot. He said he wants me to come live with them and he said he'd even build me my own house in their backyard. I know he would build it too if I actually took him up on the offer but from now on, I'll just go there as a refuge from my own house. I mentioned to his mom that my middle sister, Jildes and I were going to make pumpkin monti (dumplings) together and the next time I was over there, she had made it for me for lunch because she knew it was my favorite. So yeah, things are better, not great, but getting there, and it's the thoughtful and loving people that make being here worthwhile.

And thank you girls for your loving comments, the other thing that keeps me going here is knowing that there are people back home thinking about me, praying for me and supporting me. It really means a lot to me, so thanks.

... it pours.

2006-01-26T21:45:00.000-08:00

We all know the saying, when it rains, it pours. Well, for the last week, it's been pouring. You know those old Charlie Brown cartoons when there is a miniature cloud that's raining on Charlie Brown even though the rest of the sky is clear? That's how I feel. I know that the whole point of being here is to integrate into our villages and to assess the needs of the community to help implement strategies for improvement and I hate to say this but if my time here continues like my last week has, I am never going to leave my room again.

(Censored by Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan)

People ask me whether is better here or there and I try to explain in the most diplomatic way possible that it's not better here, it's not better there, it's different and impossible to compare. There are good things and bad things about every single place in the world (okay, except Australia) and if things were so much better than America, then why am I here right now? I know that every generation, people want to do better than the generation before them. But I wish I could tell them that better isn't necessarily America. They only have this idea of what it is and don't understand that there is struggle no matter where you are. Not everyone is happy there either.

I guess this is something that I am going to have to get used to because I don't think it's going to change or stop anytime soon, so the only thing I can do is change the way I react to it and file it under the curiosity of others. I know I can't take everything personal, but it's easy to forget sometimes. I feel like I have been wandering around for the last 4 with my head in the clouds soaking up a different culture and experience but now my sponge is full so everything is just overflowing and I don't see any way to control or stop it. I hate speaking in analogies but I really don't have any other way to explain it. I guess my only solution at this point is to figure out the things I am and am not willing to do, then say yes to the things I am and find out a way to gracefully decline the things I am not.

It's not easy being here, sometimes it is a struggle to even find the energy to get out of bed. It's easy to lose sight of why I am here and my purpose but hopefully it will become clear soon.

We both like soup.

2006-01-20T22:40:00.000-08:00

(Censored by Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan)

I've lived in my village for a little over a month here and the only two places I have been are to my home, and school and to other people's houses when I go guesting. I figured it would be good for me to actually learn the names of the streets and where everything is situated. I asked my favorite student, Danier to accompany me on my excursion. We walked everywhere and I learned that my village has a pool that operates in the summer. A pool! I can't even tell you how excited I am to lounge around poolside with a good book. It only costs 15 sohm a day- I already know where my living allowance is going for the months of June, July and August.

Tomorrow I am going to learn how to make borshe (a delicious Russian soup, and one of my favorite meals here) at one of my students houses. I never realized how much I miss living with a Russian family. I went over to her house for lunch the other day and her mom ran out of the house, showered me with kisses and treated me like her long-lost daughter. I guess I just don't elicit the same reaction from my Kyrgyz family.

Not Bad.

2006-01-13T21:59:00.000-08:00

This summer, my brother's girlfriend Kathy (hey Kat!) called it to my family's attention that we always describe things as "not bad". She asked why we say that, wouldn't it be better to say good, awesome, or excellent? I really didn't have a good answer for her. Well my family here started catching on, too. I always say "ne plo-ha" which in Russian means, of course, not bad. My dubious cousin (who is losing his dubiousness day by day) has even started to say it in English. Now the 3 words that he knows in English are: not, bad, and boyfriend. I have no idea where he picked up that third one because I certainly didn't teach it to him.

So I have been struggling with the decision whether or not I should say with my host family. This is a really hard decision for me because I don't want to jump from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak. Living in a sorority house definitely has it's trade-offs. I have a lot of independence and they aren't constantly yelling at me to put on my "shapka" (hat, in Russian), but at the same time, I think I take a small downgrade in living conditions. For example, I was cleaning out my water distiller and I noticed a bunch of drowned ants in it. (Is it wrong that my first thought after seeing their little swimming bodies, I thought, "well, at least I'm getting some protein"?) Anyways, I am pretty sure a Russian or Kyrgyz mother (whose job it is to take care of the household) would never let their house be infested by ants.

On the other hand, Jildes, my favorite and middle sister and I have become increasingly closer. We manage to have these half English, half Russian conversations and I have discovered that our personalities are very similar. She's got a good sense of humor and she doesn't take any crap from anyone. I went guesting with her pretty much every night last week and I met a lot of her friends and I'm starting to feel like I actually have a life here. And hanging out with her and her friends who are educated have helped me dispel many stereotypes regarding cultural gender roles. I have actually seen (gasp!) some boys pour tea! I have actually watched (gasp!) some boys do their own laundry! I have even heard (gasp!) some boys denounce their age-old tradition of kidnapping their brides! Some of the ones that are not as progressive even agree that at least the girl should consent to the kidnapping before it happens.

So I've banya'd with my friends and family but last weekend was my first trip to the public banya in Bishkek. (My sister and I tried to go to a private banya in my village but by 9 p.m. all the hot water was gone). It was basically an old soviet warehouse that was converted into a bath house. Imagine just one big room with a few open showers on the perimeter and a big open area with some benches to put your stuff down on. Being here has forced me to be comfortable being naked in front of people, you really have no choice... be smelly, or be naked with 40 other women... Even being on the street, I have gotten used to the people staring at me (am I really that hideous?) but I must have been the first American in that public banya ever because they didn't let their eyes wander off of me for even one second. Every square inch of my body was thoroughly inspected by these women. At one point, I felt like putting my arms above my head and twirling so everyone could get a good look so I could go back to washing. Then my sister and I took turns beating each other, which surprisingly I have gotten used to (Tiffany, you better not be laughing, you're next when I get back).

Try This.

2006-01-04T22:52:00.000-08:00

I thought the thing I hated the most about being here was doing my laundry. Since you have to do everything by hand, your hands freeze, your arms get tired and by the end of it your wrists feel like jelly. Cleaning anything here seems to be the most difficult and time-consuming task. As much as I love banyas, it's probably good that I only take them once a week because everytime I do, I'm in there for about an hour. Talk about a waste of time! So anyways, I have now discovered my new least favorite thing to do, and it should be the most joyous- going to the post office. Dun dun dun. I love getting mail, I love writing mail, but going to the post office has proved to be more stressful than I ever imagined. There are three different rooms and all the ladies that work there know who I am. And they hate me. I am a pain, so I don't blame them. They each send me to a different room, running in circles asking everyone for a letter or package and I secretly think they are behind the bars ripping them all open and throwing them in the trash out of spite. So to try to avoid ever having to step foot in that post office again, I am going to see what happens when someone sends a letter directly to my house. SO here is my address. I don't care if the letter just says "Hi. Love, (so and so)" I just want to see if it actually works so I can avoid the post office like the plague that it is. Thank you.

(Note, I haven't recieved any mail at my home address so you guys can continue to use

Central Post Office
Bishkek 720000
Kyrgyzstan
Persavich

and the post office ladies can continue to hate me).

C Novie Godom!

2006-01-02T01:31:00.000-08:00

C Novie Godom means Happy New Year's in Russian. Yes, that's the only thing I know how to say. So Phil, Bohee and I went back to our original village to visit our old host families, and they were as happy to see us as we were to see them so it was nice to be back "home". In Kyrgyzstan, they don't just party for New Years Eve here, they party the entire next day too. For New Years Eve, Phil's Mom and Bohee's Dad came running in my house dressed as Santa and pretty much kidnapped me to take me guesting. We ate, drank, and danced our butts off until 4 in the morning. So the next day, I go over to Bohee's house thinking I would just lounge around all day and recover from the night before. Not so. The vodka came pouring out at 11:30 in the morning. We all shot each other an oh-my-God-we're-going-to-die-today look, but we all stuck together so it wasn't too bad. We spent the rest of the day visiting the houses of all our old host families and went guesting for another 12 hours. 12 hours! Did I mention that we were running on 4 hours of sleep from guesting the night before? Phil, the big man that he is had to bear the brunt of the hazing but Bohee and I could get by calling ourselves girls. It's amazing the hospitality of the people here. In one house we went to we were the only 3 people there and within 5 minutes the previously empty table was covered with tons of food, wine and vodka and the room was overflowing with family members. With the three of our language skills combined we could actually hold a real conversation. We can't believe it, but we actually survived our first holiday here and we had so much fun. If it's one thing they know how to do here, it's to have a good time and throw one hell of a party.

Not so different

2005-12-26T01:42:00.000-08:00

So I have been trying to think of all the things that are the same about Kyrgyzstan and America and my list is slowly growing. One of the things I've noticed is that all the marshrutka drivers wave to each other when they pass each other like all the bus drivers to at home. And in a lot of them, they hang up their first earned som. See? It's not that different here, afterall.

My record so far for not banyaing is now 15 days. My sisters really don't care about my personal hygiene as much as I do, so I think I'm going to have to start making my own appointments at the private banya in my village. The thing is that I don't even think I smelled all that bad but I did notice that my skin was sloughing off at every opportunity. I don't think I'll ever go that long without bathing again.

One of my closest friends here, Jordan, just got news that he got Medically separated- although I am secretly convinced that he just did it to compete with me for having the most medical problems since being in country. I guess I underestimated his competitiveness because I just spoke to him and he's now back in America. We think he was allergic to cold weather because he's never spent an extended amount of time out of the Houston humidity so hopefully his cough and health will improve soon. You're in our thoughts and prayers, buddy. Like most of the other people and guys here he dropped a ton of weight. 35 pounds. (Are you eating your protein, J?) He didn't even have that much to lose but I guess being in a third world country will do that to you. Especially if you're from Texas where red meat is it's own food group. We miss him dearly and it'll be hard without him because America just re-claimed one of our best. Hopefully he gets a new Peace Corps assignment soon so next winter when Kyrgyz starts getting cold again I can fly over to Africa or Thailand for a nice little holiday. We're keeping our fingers crossed for Thailand.

Christmas was good here. We celebrated by going over to the Hyatt for their brunch. A group of us stayed there for 3 1/2 hours and I successfully achieved my goal of gaining back all the weight I lost since being here. It was really amazing that I consumed that much food in one sitting. Even the guys were impressed.

Everything else here is going alright, I have about 2 1/2 weeks off for the winter break so I'll be doing more reading than normal. So far, I've finished 14 books so if you are at a loss for ideas about what to send, I just gave my mom a hefty list of ones that I want to read so you can always call her (hint, hint). Also, if you plan on regifting, I don't judge- so just send me any Christmas gifts that you don't want (hideous sweaters with bells or bears on them are totally fine with me). I hope everyone's holiday was warm and filled with cheer, you have all been in my thoughts and prayers.

Christmas?

2005-12-18T00:41:00.000-08:00

I have received a few e-mails talking about Christmas and all of the fun chores that go along with it... tree decorating, card writing and holiday shopping. My response is this, it's Christmas? It definitely doesn't feel like it here... hmm, probably because I'm in predominantly Muslim country, perhaps? It's in a week but I feel pretty unattached to it. It's my first Christmas away from home so I know it's going to be difficult but the other volunteers in my area are all going to celebrate by having dinner at the Hyatt, (I wonder if they have lobster in this country?) so that should be nice to spend it with them.

My mom sent me a package and she put some cooking ingredients in it and one of the items was flour. Flour? Are you kidding? I have a cell phone in this country! If they have phones, I'm pretty sure they have mooka (flour in Russian) here. Bread is practically a national meal. Anyways, it did make me laugh so I guess that's the most important thing. Oh mom, you're so good to me. Speaking of packages, I have another mailing tip: Although the padded envelopes are easy to mail, they're easy to break into. Either use a small box or perhaps wrap the envelope in duct tape? Actually, you should probably use duct tape in every mailing situation because they don't have it here so they can't reseal the package if they open it.

So Bishkek is getting pretty slippery. I'd say it's a 9 out of 10 chance that I will be Medivac'd to D.C. before the winter is over. They don't have salt here so it's basically a 3 inch layer of ice on every single sidewalk. Charlie and I were going to a Cafe last weekend and immediately after I said, "don't let me fall" he slipped and dragged me down with him. I fell 2 other times after that and I got him back because I pulled him down with me once, too. After the hardest one I actually had to look on the ground to make sure my brains weren't splattered everywhere, I was sore for 3 days after that one. As goofy as they look, I'm going to have to break out my neon green yak tracks.

So yeah, like I said, I have a cell phone. I am making $3 a day and it costs 1$ to call for one minute so I can't afford to call home but since I know you all have jobs and are making much more than me, so you can call me instead :) My number is 0-11-996-502-17-35-82. You can also text me by following these directions:

1. Go to http://smsgate.bitel.kg/
2. scroll down as the site is in Russian
3. At the bottom of the screen there is a menu bar, look for SMS
4. Click on it
5. Put my number 173582 in the Number box and type in a message
6. Press the button on left which is Russian for send
7. Make sure you say who it's from because I have no way to identify who is sending me the text.

Everything else is going well, teaching is a lot harder than I thought it would be so I'll have to come up with some creative lesson plans and games. My break is from the 25th of Dec. till the 11th of January so I have a lot of time to think of good lessons for the next quarter. I'll probably go to the embassy to look for some books because a few of my classes don't have any. My Russian is coming along slowly. I think I am going to move out of my host family because 1) If I listen to 50 cent one more time I'm going to stab myself in the eye and 2) Since they speak English they won't talk to me in Russian because they want to practice their language. It's generally pretty frustrating but it's important to me so I try to study as much as possible.

Out Houses

2005-12-08T23:55:00.000-08:00

So we joke around that one of the reasons to E.T. that is perfectly acceptable is if you fall into a pit toilet. No questions asked, just go home and hang your head in shame for the rest of your life. So yesterday, I was going to the outhouse and my kitten followed me, I kept saying "Nieliezya" which means "not allowed" in Russian but it kept coming anyway. So I go in, shut the door and it starts clawing it's way inside and it finally gets its head poked through, but I put my hand down by the door (while I was mid-squat) to keep it from getting through. Side note: our outhouse is particularly big since it's on a small hillside so it's a good 12-13 foot drop. So anyways, I finish up and open the door but keep my foot next to it so the kitten can't get through but before I knew it, it bolted over my foot and was 1 nanocentimeter from falling in the outhouse. In one fell swoop I grabbed it and tossed it 4 feet and right into the snow. I don't think it knew what was going on because when I finally picked it up it's heart was racing, and I think it got mad at me because it didn't come around me for the rest of the night. It should have been thanking me because there's no way we would have been able to get it out, and trust me, death by outhouse would be the worst kind.

My New Family

So I am living with 3 sisters and I feel like I'm in a sorority house or something. Japar, 26, is married but her husband is living and working in Moscow and her daughter is living with her parents in a village outside of Tokmok. She's an accountant, I think. Jildes, 21, is a student although she had exams yesterday and I haven't seen her crack a book. Kundus, 19, works at a Korean firm, and she teaches Kyrgyz, I think. Japar is the serious one, Jildes is the cute, bubbly one and Kundus, the youngest (and true to form) is the wild one. It's nice not having parents to tell me to put on my hat every time I leave the house but it's not without trade offs. I think I have heard 50 cents "The Candyshop" and Christina Aguliera's "Dirty" about 8,000 times since I've been here. I think I will have to educate them about what good American music is.

Japar speaks pretty decent English which is helpful but at the same time it's too easy to rely on so now I am going to have to work extra hard on my Russian. As of right now I am signed up for 9 hours of tutoring per week, so we'll see how that all goes. It's still the most difficult part about being here and adjusting because communication is so key.

My School

So my closest friend her is my 17 year old student, Danier. I call him my groupie because he comes over every day just to ask how I am. I went guesting at his house one of the first nights but it was pretty daunting because his father used to be a Russian teacher so he kept grilling me and quizzing me about everything. Talk about being put on the spot. I am teaching 18 hours a week but it's going to be hard because I'm supposed to be teaching 6,7,8,9,10 and 11 grades, so my lesson planning is going to be somewhat difficult. A few of my classes don't have books so I think I'll try to focus on conversation for those. My task seems pretty daunting at this point because I'm trying to remember what I've learned for the last 3 months in training but I feel like I can resort to a few standard games until I get my bearings.

'Stache Tober

So for the month of October, none of the guys shaved as it was PST tradition for the last few years. So Bohee and I took it upon ourselves to do "leg-hair November" and not shave for the entire month. It's now mid-Dec and I still haven't shaved but I try to rationalize it by telling myself that I'm only doing it to keep warm. When I told this to Bohee, her response was, "Ha, I too have given up being a woman."

Super Powers

2005-12-06T01:41:00.000-08:00

You know that episode of Family Guy where everyone has completely useless super powers, like being able to grow long nails really quickly? Well, I have two completely useless super powers here. One, I can navigate the pitch blackness ridiculously well. It can be the middle of the night with no stars in the sky and I can make it back and forth to my outhouse, only wiping out once! Also, kittens love me here. Most of you wouldn't consider that a super power unless you know my history with cats. I hate cats. Cats hate me. But not here, my kitten at my new home curls up on my chest and nuzzles my neck, at first I thought it was cute but now I think about how dirty it must be and throw it off me.

I have a new address. It's pretty sketchy because I don't have a P.O. Box but hopefully this works. Don't send packages yet, I want to make sure I can get letters first.

Central Post Office
Bishkek 720000
Kyrgyzstan
Persavich

Yup, that's it. Cross your fingers while I work on trying to get a real address here. Apparently no one has ever heard of packages or postage here.

I have so much more to say but no time to say it. So send me lots of letters!

Thanksgiving and Scandalous Banyas

2005-11-29T23:37:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving was a hit even though the power went out 3 times when we were trying to cook our goose. It was absolutely delicious and my Mom and Grandma (from America) would be so proud of the way my stuffing turned out. They didn't have celery but we tried to make do with what we had. We also made apple crisp and a fruit salad. We went all out and it only cost 400 som, about 10 bucks American. Not too shabby when it's split between 5 people.

So we all had our language exams and even though I know I completely botched mine I got Intermediate Mid. To put it in perspective, there is Novice, Intermediate and Advanced and within those are Low, Mid and Hi, so I literally got right in the middle, then there is superior which means your fluent which I will probably never get. Some people did better than me, some did worse than me and some people's scores weren't very accurate but I am nonetheless happy. I will definitely continue after training is over, getting a Russian tutor is probably the first thing I will do.

I got my first bout of giardia which is an intenstinal paracite. Pretty nasty but I was loaded up with antibiotics so I think it got cleared up pretty quickly. Thank goodness.

So I am still homeless. I know that I am going to be in the Chui region but I don't know exactly where. We swear in tomorrow so I hope they figure it out soon because I am supposed to be living there Friday. I thought I was supposed to find out last Friday but I guess they meant any Friday. I'm somewhat frustrated but I know that this is probably the best decision for me even though it's going to be hard to inform my family and the school that the volunteer they thought the were getting is no longer coming. I sincerely hope there are no hard feelings.

Tim's girlfriend and I took a banya together last weekend, we were both giggling pretty hard. Especially because Tim's Mama gave me honey to rub on her chest and back since she had a cold (apparently that helps here). Then we took turns beating each other with the herb branches. Have I mentioned that I have lost all conception concerning what is normal here?

We're swearing in tomorrow and I am both nervous and excited. It seems like we have gotten so much information during the past 3 months now we have to sort through it and make ourselves actual volunteers. It's going to be really hard to say goodbye but I am leaving knowing that I have made awesome friends, a great family and a place that I can call home. I guess I can't ask for much more.

Talas- Nieto

2005-11-23T20:31:00.000-08:00

Because of medical reasons I am not going to be living in Talas anymore. The Medical Office decided I needed to be closer to Bishkek incase I get sick again. So don't send any mail to that address that I posted.

Today is Thanksgiving and this morning we went over to my LCF's house to pick out a goose. The Apa brought them in and they thought they were going to eat breakfast but instead they let them loose and Tim chased one of them through the maze of beehives and finally caught it. Bohee and I were laughing pretty hard as he was trying to trap it. They handed him a knife and he cut it's head off and as of right now it's being prepared for us to eat. Tim and I are in Tokmok and we're going to go to the bazaar to buy stuff for stuffing, mashed potatoes and everything else you'd expect from an American Thanksgiving sans turkey. He said he feels more like a man now that he's killed something with his hands. Boys. Hmph.

That's all for now. I'll post my new address when I get it.

Birthdays, Puppies and Pumpkin Pie.

2005-11-19T19:08:00.000-08:00

Birthdays

Yesterday was my Mama's birthay so my Russian group came over to celebrate and I have never seen my Mom and Sister so happy. Izzy, the K-12 who lived in the house before me came from Naryn to help celebrate. We were going to make dinner but we only had time to make Pumpkin Pie but it tasted just like home and was so delicious. We ate a ton of food and drank their homemade wine which was made from raspberries, water and sugar which has been aged for 3 years, it was pretty good, but no Yellow Tail. At least it was red, though. I'd say the party was a success. My Mama loves the Happy Birthday song so we sang it 7 times.

Puppies

I was doing my laundry yesterday and I heard all these squeeking noises coming from my dog house, I asked Tanya what it was and she causally replied,"oh, they're puppies". I was like, yes, I can hear that they are puppies, but... WHAT? I didn't even know my dog was pregnant! There are four of them and apparently they were born yesterday, just like me. They are about the size of the palm of my hand and their eyes aren't even open so they're not really cute yet.

Address

I got my address at my permanent site which is the same as the family I'm staying with. I might get a P.O. Box later but for now, this will do. Since I don't trust any of you to write in Cyrillic I suggest you just copy this, enlarge it and print it out and then send me lots and lots of mail. Thanks :)

Permanent Site Visit

2005-11-19T18:49:00.000-08:00

My Family

Last week all the volunteers went to visit the places that we would be living for the next two years. I really liked my village, and my family. My Apa (mom in Kyrygz) is 50 years old and is Azerbaijani and my Ata (Dad in Kyrygz) is 57 years old and is Kazak. They have two children, a 21 year old daughter who is married and living in Talas, named Nargeeza and a son who is 20 and in the army whose name is Eldar. Since Eldar is in Bishkek I only got a chance to meet Nargeeza who is so adorable and bubbly. I am hoping that having her around will improve my Russian.

My School

My school (grades 5-11) is fairly big, it has about 900 students. It’s in pretty decent shape and since the school has a gym and I am thinking about starting a volleyball team as one of my secondary projects. They even have a computer lab with 6 computers and the teacher, Sergai seems to know what he’s doing. My counterpart, who is also the only other English teacher doesn’t speak English so I am not sure if that’s going to make my job easier or harder. My director seems like a nice enough guy but when he was doing the formal introductions he told the entire staff that I speak “Bad Russian” I was like, It’s not that bad, it’s just slow, plus I’ve only had less than 2 months of training. Other than that, everything seemed pretty good. When the Kyrgyz girls found out I was visiting the school they all came to the teachers lounge and called me out to talk to them. They were so cute asking when I was coming back, if I would be their teacher and if I wanted to come over to all their houses. It feels good knowing that they put me somewhere that I am wanted and needed.

Pee Trips

When I went to visit my permanent site my Apa (mom in Kyrgyz) told me to tell her every time I had to go to the bathroom so she could accompany me. As I went to the bathroom in the outhouse she would drop trou right outside and pee facing the outhouse door. One time I wanted my privacy so I went without her and as I was coming back in she was like, what are you doing!? I’ll go with you, don’t pee by yourself! I guess that’s like of like the women in America who can’t go to the bathroom alone.

Detained

We had plans to leave our sites on Sunday to return to our villages outside of Tokmok. My Ata put me on a Marshrutka (the local transportation which is like a small bus), got on and was like, this is my daughter, she is an American, please make sure to help her get on a Marshrutka to Tokmok once she gets to Bishkek. All of the volunteers were supposed to leave the Talas oblast together but either my director didn’t get into contact with them or they didn’t get into contact with my director but I was all alone. I didn’t find out until the next day that all of the other volunteers ended up traveling together. I thought I was going to be fine since I had a Kazak visa and they said that it’s common for marshrutkas to travel through Kazakstan to avoid the high passes through the mountain range, plus I had a whole marshrutka of people that were supposedly going to look out for me.

Once we got to the border, they took my passport and were like, no get off, no Americans can travel through this post. I didn’t understand what they were talking about because I told them I had a legitimate visa and passport. The guy started to move towards me as if he was going to physically remove me from my seat so I was like alright, alright, I’ll come, I’ll come. Up until this point, I thought my Russian had been progressing rather satisfactorily but now I see exactly how much work that needs to be done in the next two weeks before I leave PST. So anyways, they sat me in a chair and I didn’t know how long I would have to wait or where I would go once they finally decided that I could leave. After a couple hours they finally put me on an autobus even though I had no idea where it was going. It took me to another border site and I got detained at that one too. I am not sure why or what they were doing but it seems like everyone wanted to question the American that couldn’t pass through the border post. After more stamps and questioning they finally let me through.

At this point I was furious because the two things that Peace Corps told us not to do were 1) travel alone and 2) travel at night. I didn’t understand how they couldn’t even inform us that there were certain places that Americans were not able to travel through and how no one contacted me so I could travel with all the other volunteers. I hadn’t cried at all, but I can’t even describe how distressing the situation was and knowing there was nothing that I could do about it. At this point I had been traveling for 10 hours, even though I should have been home in 5 and I was running out of money because every time I got on a new vehicle they wanted me to pay even though I had paid 3 times already. The lady sitting next to me in the marshrutka had a baby and two children and she told me that I should just go home with her and spend the night because it wasn’t safe to travel alone at night. I thought it was against Peace Corps regulations so I told her that I had to get home but looking back in retrospect I probably should have just gone with her. One girl finally saw how distressed I was so she told me that she spoke little English and she escorted me to a bus station and put me in a taxi and told me that it would drop me off at my front door. I couldn’t have been more grateful. I left at 8 in the morning and got home around 10 at night and my only saving grace the entire day were the 2 women that tried to help me get home safe.

As if it’s not hard enough being here, I haven’t seemed to catch a break- If I have already 3 trips to medical and was detained at the Kazak border in the first 2 months I can’t even imagine what the next 2 years has in store for me.

What is Normal?

2005-11-19T18:48:00.000-08:00

I have completely lost every conception concerning what is normal in this country. Putting these experiences into words can’t really do them justice but just to give you a clip of what everyday life is, I will try. Here it goes.

Galloping and Galllivanting

The other day our group was waiting to go to Hub Day and Phil’s mom hadn’t realized that Kyrgyzstan decided against daylight savings this year so they were an hour off schedule. When he rushed out of the house, she forgot to pack him a lunch. Right as he was telling us he had nothing to eat, a little boy (maybe 5 years old) came riding in on a horse that was ten sizes too big for him yelling “Philippe! Philippe!” We didn’t understand what was going on until the little boy threw Phil a bag of warm pita bread- then we figured that his mom felt bad so she sent the neighbors boy on horseback to deliver his lunch.

My morning’s chores range from fetching water to washing and rinsing my pee bucket (ever since it has gotten cold, my mama gave me a bucket to keep in my room so I don’t have to haul it to the outhouse in the middle of the night).

Martha the Cow

Everyday, my cow Martha gets into some kind of trouble. I can’t even explain how funny it was when I went to the outhouse and I heard something crash into the back of it. I was so worried that it was going to break, causing me to fall in. I ran out and realized that our cow had gotten stuck behind it. I went around to the other side to see how sticky the predicament was and almost lost it when I saw her face, because she knew she was screwed. I went and got my mama and Tanya and as Tanya was trying to get her to back up by throwing pebbles at her, my mom runs around to the other side of the fence and started beating her head with a stick until she backed up. I guess she was kind of freaked out because she launched backward and almost took the entire outhouse down with her. Tanya and I were dying laughing but my mom seemed pretty pissed until she realized what had happened and she started laughing too. They moved two metal crates in the small opening behind the outhouse but I swear not one of us would have thought she would have been able to fit there in the first place.

Trouble

I think I am starting to get too dependent on my neighbor Tim because it seems like we’re always getting chased by something and he’s the only one who instinctually reaches down to pick up a rock for some kind of defense (my instinct is always to run). He chooses fight, I choose flight even though I think that I would be much safer if I carried a large rock or stick around with me. Whether it be the town drunk, who we so fondly refer to as “chai guy”, geese, donkeys or dogs, he’s always there to ward off or deflect some kind of danger. Since we’re living almost 9 hours apart (he’s in Jalal Abad) I figure I should get used to being left to my own devices. Not to say that he avoids trouble or anything, he’s already been bitten by his dog and slammed his head into a tree on the way out to my outhouse one night when we were hanging out (he didn’t cut through the chicken coup like I told him to and now he’s got a pretty nasty permanent dent). I secretly think he’s trying to rival the number of times I have been sent to the medical office, even though his ways seem to be much more creative. He’s probably one of my closest friends here (literally and figuratively) so we spend a lot of time together even though I think we are a very unlikely pair seeing as how together we attract all sorts of trouble. Maybe it is best that we are on opposite sides of the country.

The Russian Banya

The real Russian banya involves two people who take turns beating each other with herb-like branches. Every week Phil gets beaten by his dad in the banya. One day we were over his house for lunch and afterwards as we were leaving his mom comes out and asks Tim if he wants to join Phil and his dad in the banya tonight. I looked at him and told him he probably wouldn’t get the offer again so he should just do it, so he was like, alright, I’ll be there. Then Phil’s mom looks at me and she goes, and do you want one too? Since you only get one banya per week, when one is offered, you never turn it down so I said, “sure why not, but only if you promise to beat me hard”. So Tim and I went home to get our towels. On the way back over I was like, Tim, what are we going to do right now? And he goes, the answer is simple, I’m going to go bathe in a hot steamy room with Phil and his Dad and we’re going to take turns beating each other with branches while we’re naked; and you’re going to do the same but with his mom. Once we got over there, Phil’s Dad told the guys that it was ready and I wished them good luck. Apparently the banya was so hot and steamy that during the middle of it then went outside (into the freezing cold) and Phil’s dad hosed them down with freezing water so they could stand the heat when they went back in. They both told me that Phil’s mom was busy making dinner and could see straight out of the kitchen window at their naked butts running around in the freezing cold getting drenched by water. I think they agreed that it was rather refreshing.

After they went, Phil’s mom told me that she was busy making dinner so I was going to take a banya with his 10 year old sister Alyssa instead. I am almost certain that she had not bathed with her brother’s friends before but since she seemed like it was no big deal, I didn’t either. So we go in and she throws some water on the rocks to make the room steam and she gets the big bundle of herb sticks. I faced one of the walls as she steamed the branches and then beat me on the back with them. I asked her if she wanted me to beat her too, but she politely declined. Afterwards we took turns washing using the communal bowl and communal wash clothes. It was actually pretty helpful to see how someone else takes a banya because I learned how to be much more efficient with my water use. After taking a banya you’re not supposed to do anything but rest and drink tea. Since we live on opposite sides of the village so his mom told us that we had to sleep over there. Tim slept on the floor in his room and I slept on the pull out couch (which is a little bit smaller than a double bed) with Alyssa and Phil’s other 4 year old sister Vika. So as I was going to bed Vika rested her forehead on mine, threw her arm around my neck and slept as close to me as possible the entire night. If I tried to move over as much as a centimeter, she would shift her body over too. Finally I gave up and resigned myself to the fact that I would wake up to a 4 year old with her face pressed up against mine. Needless to say I didn’t get much sleep but she’s the absolute cutest girl in the world. I opened my eyes once during the night to see her teeny face and big cheeks and started to laugh quietly when I saw that her nose was pressed up against mine.

Sick Again

2005-11-19T18:45:00.000-08:00

After our site visits we were ready to start our two week practicum, where all the volunteers in our village would teach 3 classes per week. The morning of my first class, I threw up on the way to school and it wasn’t because I was nervous. Phil, also in my group, did the same thing (we thought we might have both had food poisoning) so we were not looking forward to spending the next 4 hours in a school trying to muscle through our first teaching session. I went home instead and slept for the next 8 hours only to be woken by my mom and sister when they brought me tea. I was in really bad shape. By Tuesday I was even worse and couldn’t even communicate to my family about how bad I was feeling and I didn’t have the energy to walk across my village to get our LCF to tell her to call the Medical Office in Bishkek. All day long I got progressively worse and by the time night rolled around I had a 102.7 temperature and something violent was going on inside my body. The Peace Corps medical office brought me into Bishkek and they were afraid that it was acute appendicitis so I had to go to a local hospital to get checked out. My blood test came back negative but I had lost so much fluid over the course of 2 days that I had to receive my second IV since being in country. I have been deemed by everyone here as a “high medial priority”.

I didn’t eat for about 4 days and after that my diet consisted of bullion and toast. Like I said my mom was a cook for 25 years so she started slowly introducing different foods into my diet. My family here was so worried about me at first because they didn’t know what to do with me and they thought I was going to go home. They were both crying when I left for Bishkek but I told them that it’s going to take a lot more than this to get me to leave the country. Thanks to the staff, my family and the other volunteers, I was able to get back on my feet in no time, I have no idea what I would have done without them. Chris Burns, one of the guys who led our orientation in Philadelphia said that you’re not a real Peace Corps Volunteer until you’ve crapped your pants. We thought he wasn’t serious but when I was really ill, I definitely pooped my pants twice. I thought it was hilarious because I started thinking about all those old SNL skits, “Oops I crapped my pants.” If anyone wants to send me Depends, I am sure they will be put to good use. Hey, don’t judge until you’ve lived in a developing country too.

Practicum

Since I was sick, I missed the entire first week of my practicum so I only ended up teaching twice. During my second class, the PST director ended up observing me. I had prepared so much by cutting out pictures from Newsweek and made up a game called “now or later” and even incorporated a tennis ball into my lesson plan. My discipline was definitely lacking and I had absolutely no control of my students and one of them wanted to leave so they were asking my director how to translate a note in the middle of my class! One of them brought it to me and it said “myxno (May I, in Russian) to go out please”. At first I said sit down and pay attention but finally I was like alright, just go, just leave. I think the director knew I was distressed because he thoughtfully added, “well, at least they came back”. Needless to say, I think this is going to be a much harder job than I had originally anticipated.

My Russian is slowly improving and we had our Mid-Service Test on Monday. At first I was really nervous, but then I realized that I’m not in college and this “grade” won’t actually count towards anything. I ended up getting an “excellent” in listening and speaking and a “good” in grammar and pronunciation. I couldn’t have been happier because I thought I completely botched my oral exam. My mama and Tanya were so proud of me and I said it was all because Tanya is so patient and sits with me for at least an hour everyday and makes me tell her everything I know how to say.

Site Placements

We got our site placements on Wednesday and I am going to be living in Kok-Oi which is a village of about 6,000 people about 10 km out of Talas. Since there is a mountain range separating the Chui and Talas oblasts the easiest route is through Kazakstan, which makes it kind of isolated. Regardless, everyone who lives there or who has been there loves it so I am really excited. Mostly everyone was happy with their placements but it was a really weird day. It’s kind of sobering to find out where you are going to be living for the next two years. Luckily I already have a place I can call home and I am sure I will visit Koshoi often. I didn’t make any specific requests during our interviews because I figured I would be happy no matter where they placed me. I just wanted to be somewhere where I could learn and develop my Russian. Phil, Bohee, Tim and I are all pretty much on the opposite sides of the country which kind of sucks, they completely botched our Russian group. All the other groups were kind of put in the same area but ours was hacked apart. I guess it will give us a good reason to travel during our down time, though.

So Far.

2005-10-15T02:47:00.000-07:00

My Village

I am living in Koshoy, a small village about an hour and a half away from the capital with 9 other volunteers (5 Kyrgyz and 4 other Russians). Several dirt roads stem off of one poorly paved road which basically makes up our entire village. There is one school, one small store and the next village is 20 minutes away. We live at the base of the Ala-Too mountain range, which means I can see mountains and snow-capped peaks from any window and the sunrises and sunsets are unreal.

My Host Family

I live in a Russian family; my mama is 68 and she has silver hair and a silver smile and a wink that could convince you to do just about anything. Her wrinkles are evidence of a life I’ll never even begin to understand. Apparently, when she was pregnant, she was beaten by her husband so she left him to raise her daughter on her own. She worked as a chef for 25 years, owns her own farm and built her house with her bare hands. She is the sweetest most loving person but someone you’d never want to mess with. My sister Tanya is 34 and she helps with running the farm and other daily chores and together they are completely self-sufficient. Everything they eat or use comes directly from their farm and animals- their homemade cheese and jam are the best I’ve ever tasted. Tanya knits and sews and makes down blankets and pillows. We have one cow, lots of chickens (which I now refer to as dinner since I pass through the coup on my way to the outhouse) 2 dogs, 2 cats and 4 kittens. They are both extremely patient with my limited Russian but it’s amazing how humor can transcend any language.

Life in General

It’s very hard to describe in words. Other volunteers agree that we wish we could send a 10 second clip of our lives here to better explain ourselves. It’s no better, no worse, just EXTREMELY different. Overall, I feel like I am adjusting fairly well. Oddly enough it’s fairly easy to adjust to live without all the “proper” amenities. We have electricity (for the most part) but no running water or indoor plumbing. I’m already accustomed to the pit toilets and in some ways they even feel cleaner and more natural (or maybe that’s just what we like to tell ourselves). My mom or sister washes my hair once a week and I take a banya once a week, which is so refreshing. It’s like a steam room/sauna and you just use a basin to do all of your cleaning. By day 6, I’m smelling pretty funky but other than that I really don’t miss showering everyday. Once I even got offended because my mama told me that I needed to wash my hair because it was greasy- I was like “WHAT?! I just washed it 3 days ago!”. I also know I’m accustomed to being here because back in the states I used to freak out if a bug even crossed my path, but the other night in my room I decided which bugs I would kill by assessing whether or not I would mind if one landed on my face in the middle of the night. Needless to say, all of the ones larger than a cricket didn’t make it. And the pace of life is much slower here- the only kind of traffic jams we encounter here is when we’re headed into the city and there is a herd of sheep or cows that take up the entire road. We call them “lamb jams”- it’s like being in a real live version of frogger.

Pre-Service Training

The days in PST are long and exhausting. 4 days a week we have 4 hours of language training per day ad the other two days all 62 trainees go to Tokmok for Hub Day where we have technical sessions and safety and security sessions. We have one day off per week and make 40 som or $1 per day. When we’re not in class we’re either studying, reading, hanging out or sleeping. By Sunday we’re exhausted so our Russian group gets together to have a beer and play a Russian card game called Doorok and talk about anything non-Peace Corps or Russian related.

Site Visits

Last week all 62 trainees went and stayed with different volunteers all over the country to get a feel for what it will be like when we finally get to our sites. I stayed with Martha Van Camp who oddly enough is from Centreville, VA, my hometown. So strange to go halfway around the world to meet someone that you live 10 minutes away from. We sat in on some of her classes, hung out, and made some American food- it was a much needed break. Her host family had running water, a hot water heater, indoor plumbing and a shower- it was practically like Christmas!

The Hardest Part

The hardest part is actually learning Russian, my group jokes that we have to study in a padded cell with no sharp object near us because the rules (or lack thereof) are infuriating. In two years it is my goal to form one coherent complete thought that is correctly conjugated. Keep your fingers crossed for me. If I end up doing that successfully, I think I will take up Rocket Science when I home.

Kyrgyz!

2005-09-19T20:04:00.000-07:00

I am officially in Kyrgyzstan and today is the first day we were allowed out of our hotel compound to briefly use the internet and to buy gifts for our host families for the first three months of PST (Pre-Service Training). I am really excited to meet them, I will be learning Russian and living with a Russian or Turkish family which is pretty unusual. Out of 13 groups, only 4 are Russian and the rest are Kyrgyz.

Staging in Philly went well but it was very brief, especially because I had the Travel Day From Hell or what I will now refer to it as TDFH. I had 2 delays and 2 cancellations and I was on an aircraft for 4 hours when it was only a 30 minute flight to Philly. I missed my entire first day which was a little disheartening but I caught up quickly. Oh yeah, and they lost my luggage too. It wasn't actually that bad though because my parents were leaving for Italy on the same day so I was able to meet up with them in their terminal because I was supposed to leave at 8:30 AM but didn't end up leaving till 5:30 PM, so I got to spend a few more precious hours with them. But trust me, 12 hours in Dulles when you're supposed to be learning information about the next two years of your life is never fun.

My K13 group is awesome, everyone is very well educated and very well traveled. It is a mix of people from all different ages and we come from all around the US. We have bonded extremely quickly but that is expected considering our circumstances. Now that orientation is over, I couldn't be more excited about the next to years and am ready to start this adventure.

Farewell Friends...

2005-09-13T16:58:00.000-07:00

By the time most of you will read this I will be halfway across the world. As usual I’ve been experiencing a roller coaster of emotions. Today was the hardest. I felt overwhelmed from saying too many goodbyes, but I feel fortunate knowing that I am leaving with a huge support system. This summer was rich with memories and stories and I feel blessed to be surrounded by such amazing people. There are so many things I wish I could have said but didn’t have the words (or strength) to say at the time, but I want to thank everyone for their encouragement, thoughts and prayers and I hope everyone knows how much it means to me.

Despite the alligator tears, I am so excited to actually do what I’ve been talking about for so long. And I can’t wait to meet all the people I’m going with. Everyone seems very open-minded and just as anxious as I am to get there and get settled. All of my questions will soon be answered. Now all that stands between Kyrgyzstan and me are a few (dozen) vaccinations and forms…. Can’t believe I’m leaving for Philly in 5 hours!

Side note- I thought I should keep this quote in mind:

Change has a considerable psychological impact on the human mind. To the fearful it is threatening because it means that things may get worse. To the hopeful it is encouraging because things may get better. To the confident it is inspiring because the challenge exists to make things better. - King Whitney Jr.

Pre-Service Training Address

2005-08-31T07:34:00.000-07:00

Like I said, I am going to try to convert to snail mail so I don't have to spend hours in the internet cafe so here is my temporary address for my 3- month training period. It takes about 4-6 weeks for me to receive my mail so start writing and sending those letters ASAP!! My address is:

Kyrgyz Republic
722140 Kant City
Mailbox #23
97 Lenina Street, RUPS
Katie Persavich

Here are some helpful instructions that I received from another volunteer:

If you want to send packages, wrap the boxes in a brown paper bag and tie a string around it if the post office will let you. Use lots of tape and include a detailed inventory list on the inside. Typed address labels help as well. Unfortunately, the Kant post office is notorious for messing around with packages. Mostly only small things go missing, like gum and candy. Be especially careful with padded or Manila envelopes-- they are particularly easy to get into. Postal workers also have a tendency to open up letters and switch around the content. For example, one volunteer received a photo of another volunteer's parents. All post offices are not like this. Its just that at Kant, they've been getting volunteer packages for a few years and already know the kinds of things we like in them. I have also heard to address envelopes and packages in red ink and to put bible scriptures on the outside because they are superstitious about stealing things that may be considered religious.

Broken record...

2005-08-30T08:14:00.000-07:00

Lately, my automated responses have been getting to me. Where are you going? When do you leave? How long will you be there? What will you be doing? Why are you doing this? I spout out the same information person to person, day to day and it's easy hear yourself saying things without really listening to what you're saying.

I've began to really question my intentions as a volunteer in the past few weeks. Am I being too ethnocentric? Isn't this too culturally imperialisic? Who am I really doing this for? And I wish those were easy questions to answer. I'm not trying to impose my values, customs, or beliefs on anyone and I am teaching English because the Kyrgyzstan government officials realize the importance of education and learning one of the most universal languages in the world. (Plus, they originally wanted me to teach physics, but I could barely pass physics let alone try to teach it in another language). And I would be lying if I said I wasn't doing part of this for me.

But I am also doing this because I love working with children, learning about other cultures and teaching others about mine. I am doing this because I want to make a difference in someone else's life. I am doing this because I know it's going to be a challenge and I want to see how far I can test my boundaries. I am doing this because I know I can.

Catch me if you can...

2005-08-25T13:03:00.000-07:00

I'm writing this as a universal way to keep family and friends posted about my latest adventures. I'm officially joining Peace Corps and am leaving for Kyrgyzstan on September 14, 2005. I'm stoked/anxious/nervous to leave and the reality sets in a little more each day. I've been trying to appreciate all the things I'm leaving and have been eating ice cream a few times a week because I doubt they'll have it in whatever small village I end up in.