Thanksgiving dinner in Naryn

Clockwise from the guy standing up: Pete, Jessica, Lorenzo, Angela, Nick, Jeanne, Mike, Caitlin, Christy, Kayoto, Masa, Chung Lin

Covered in snow

This is from our street, at sunrise.

At the dinner table

Left to right: Kukuu, Taene, Begimay, Kadan, Bakash

My 11th form students

Disclaimer

Disclaimer: This blog reflects the ideas of one volunteer only and does not necessarily reflect the ideas, aims, intentions of the United States Peace Corps.

Disclaimer: If this blog seems disjointed, fragmented and slightly multipersonalic, please understand that the contents were written over the course of several weeks and reflect the emotions of many different moments and experiences. I type every blog on my laptop, and then store them on a flashdrive until I can make the 2 hour trip to the nearest internet café where I can post them. Peace Corps living allowance will make that trip possible perhaps once a month. :D

9/24/08

On September 18^th we swore in as Peace Corps Volunteers. The new U.S. ambassador to Kyrgyzstan invited us to a reception at her residence. You would have thought we were reenacting a movie scene where starving people are clamoring for food from a disaster-relief truck! We formed a crowd around the banquet table and waited with baited breath as the cook brought out each platter. Each tray barely touched the table before all it was emptied of all its contents. It’s surprising no one was injured in the struggle for American food. The food here isn’t bad. But there is little variety and after a few months, the craving for certain foods (peanut butter!) can be pretty strong...

9/30/08

I realized something the other day: I’m an immigrant. For the first time in my life I can relate to what many people in American have experienced: coming to a new country with little (or no) idea of the culture, language, or customs of that country. Although I’ve travelled before, I’ve always been to Spanish speaking nations where I could at least get by with my language skills. Here, when I arrived I didn’t know how to buy water (it’s still a struggle)! I don’t know the customs here. When I shake water off my hands after washing them, I’m insulting and/or cursing the home (I’m not sure which exactly). Smiling at a man my age is completely inappropriate and is evidence of American woman’s ‘looseness.’

But it’s not just the language and the culture, there’s also a barrier between myself and the people here. I’m alone. Alone, as I’ve never been before. There is no one near me that can relate to my experiences growing up, my world perspective, my habits; no one who longs for an espresso-stand with unparalleled longing.

I have more experience than many with the immigrant struggle. I’ve taken college courses about immigration and refugees. I’ve worked with Hispanic immigrants at Casa Latina. I’ve read many books and memoirs written by immigrants. Currently I’m reading a book titled What is the What, a memoir of a Sudanese ‘Lost Boy’ who compares his life in the Sudan and Ethiopian refugee camps to his new life in Atlanta. , Confusion, disappointment, frustration, loneliness. Before, I couldn’t in any way relate to these experiences. Even now I know that I can’t truly relate. I’m a semi-immigrant. I don’t need to worry about finding work or a place to stay. But in some ways I can relate, I can at least relate to the emotional/physiological challenges, and I think that’s an incredible thing.

Even as I write this, a new scenario presents itself. Two men arrive to drink tea with my family. Where I sit typing at my computer is directly visible from the dinner table. Do I get up and greet the men? Do I wait and see if my family calls me? If I don’t greet them am I being rude? If I greet them am I being forward and presumptuous? My choice? Move out of sight and wait. No one came to bring me to the table, so I assume I made the right choice. As I waited, I listened to their conversation. For a few minutes it centered around me. I couldn’t understand all of it, but mostly it was basic information: who I am, where I came from, information regarding teacher salaries in the U.S. that I shared with my host brother this morning at the breakfast table.

I figuring out how to live....

Title unnecessary

More mountains

This is a picture of my village, taken from a nearby hill. The mountains received their first coat of snow in the first days of October. so cold... ;)

My village: mountains and all

This picture is of my town, taken from a nearby hill. The mountains got their first coat of snow in the first days of October.

Family picnic

When you get to the 2nd donkey, turn left...

TO NARYN! (for the next 2 years...)

NEWS! K-16s received our permanent site placements last Wednesday. I will be going to Naryn! My information packet described the area as 70% high mountain peaks and 30% high mountain valleys. So "mountains" would describe it, short and sweet. I was immediately informed that my site is the most remote PC site in the country. hum...
But I'm still very excited. It'll be rough, especially the -50C winters. I'm not really sure how I'll deal with that. But everything else about my area is exciting. It's fantastically gorgeous, 100% Kyrgyz, I will live in a town of about 10,000 people. I've seen pictures of the school and even of some of my future students. I'm several hours from the closest big city but I have a "site buddy" who is about a 1/2 hour drive from me. I'm glad I have someone close by who can relate to my American sensibilities.

Short blog, sorry. I'll try and write more later.

Chickens make great garbage disposals

Weird experiences make great stories. Have you ever fallen into the hole in an outhouse? (I haven’t, but I recently heard another PCVT telling his real-life outhouse nightmare.) All that aside, I’m not in Kyrgyzstan to collect stories. There are more comfortable places to collect stories and few people in the U.S. can appreciate the ‘name-that-meat-game.’ While I plan on having lots of great stories at the end of my 2-years of service, what I really want is to discover new strengths in myself, learn to overcome any challenge, and gain another way to view the world. A philosophy I picked up somewhere: if one can look at the world from many different angles, one’s idea of it will be more complete.

It’s been 6 weeks since we arrived in Bishkek. Wow. Really wow. My thoughts are all over the place right now. My sister had her baby (Gibson!) on August 7th. I called mom and got the details of the birth, time, weight, etc about an hour after he was born. It’s amazing. There is a new person in the world, and who he becomes will largely be shaped by the actions/attentions of my sister and Jay. Incredible.

On the other side of the world:

It’s been a busy week at my house. Yesterday our sheep “came home” and today my family harvested our sunflowers from the fields. A quick explanation regarding the sheep: apparently, during the summer, when grass dries up in the low-lands, our 30+ sheep are sent to the mountains to be cared for by a shepherd. During the remainder of the year they live in a pen in the backyard. They’re along-side the house for now because the pen isn’t ready yet. I think the cows are jealous of all the attention that the sheep have been getting.

The sheep are a meat-source during the winter; the sunflowers are a source of vegetable oil for the year. Once the seeds have been separated from the flowers, they will be sent to a factory to be pressed, then the family will get gallons of sunflower-oil for cooking.

I'm definately feeling 'fatigued.' A couple of days ago I fell asleep while riding on a marshrutka (a van-sized public bus). That shouldn't surprise anyone who knows me really well, but this might: I was standing up when I fell sleep. I was standing in the center aisle at the front of the bus, holding on to a handrail that was attached to the ceiling, I closed my eyes for a second and woke up as my knees buckled and I was milliseconds from crumbling to the floor. Good times...

Mosque in Istanbul

The whole city was filled with the most fantastic ancient architecture along-side the most modern city-scenes.

Sunflower land

Close to Home

These are the mountains next to our village.

International Family

Left to Right: Samat, Mahabot, Iyana(baby), Apa, Ata, Ulicka

An Average Day

As I was walking around my village today it occurred to me that a lot of people back home might not have any idea what Peace Corps is like. They know that I am here, that it’s beautiful and that I love my host family, but what of my day? What of my life in Pre-Service Training (PST)? To start with, Peace Corps is very obviously part of the U.S. government. For everything there is a rule, process and an acronym. During our first three months in country we intensively study the language and sit through technical sessions regarding our responsibilities as TEFL volunteers. We have a 9pm curfew and are not allowed to leave our village unaccompanied. We are not yet Peace Corps Volunteers(PCV); we are Peace Corps Trainees(PCT). At the end of PST we will attend a swearing in ceremony in Bishkek and our real service will begin.

Currently all 60 Krygyz PCTs are living in 4-6 person clusters in separate villages surrounding around a mid-sized town, Kaht, the Hub center. We have language sessions in our clusters everyday (Monday thru Saturday) from 8am-noon, followed by technical or cultural training sessions. Once a week the entire group meets for medical and safety sessions in Kaht (I’ve had 8 vaccinations since arrival and we have another ‘round’ of shots in August). The schedule and rules are frequently exasperating and I’m beginning to crave more independence.

Most evenings I help my sister cook dinner, which usually takes us a couple of hours, chat with her in English, eat at about 10pm, and then go to bed. I’m always planning to walk around town, but I never find the time to do it during daylight hours. Studying is also neglected as other chores and activities fill up the evenings. Yesterday I helped weed the strawberry patch and then we went to the family’s sunflower fields just outside of town. It's life in the country...city life is more complex and exciting, country life is more tranquil. There's more to it, of course, but that's my experience so far.

Meet the (Host) Family 16/07/08

So I’ve had a chance to “interact with the locals” as I described it in my last blog-post. I’ve been with my host family a week and I couldn’t imagine being with a better one. My parents have 5 children, 4 daughters and a son. Only the youngest two (a daughter and the son) are still at home. The oldest daughters are married and live in Bishkek and the middle daughter is currently in Virginia. Ulkensin (“Ulicka”) is 18 years old and somehow manages a lot of household responsibility while maintaining her humor and energy. Samat, my little brother, is 16 and enjoys scaring the family with his while driving. The men are the only ones who know how to drive.

It IS very beautiful here. The mountains roll away from our village into snow covered peaks. Sunflowers are in bloom and there are strawberries hide in the garden. The less “romantic” aspects involve the outhouse situation... The most difficult thing so far has been the language classes. Kyrgyz is an agglomerative language ( subject, tense, interrogation, negation, etc. are all added to the verb stem in very complex ways). Ugg! I never imagined a language like this! But it is lovely to hear and I’ll feel great when I begin to master it.

Everything reminds me a little of somewhere else (Nicaragua, Ecuador, the U.S.) but belongs to none of those places.

Krygyz customs:

Women greet women with a kiss on each cheek, they greet men with a handshake. Shoes come off before entering a house.

Greet older people with “Salamatsisbi” and younger people with “salamatchilik.”

The streets are shared by all types of man and beast.

There is no limit to the number of people you can fit into a cab.

It’s never too hot for 3-5 cups of chai at every meal.

....

Busy in Bishkek 07-07-08

This has been such a strange trip. Time has been flying by and my head is spinning. I’m waiting for the world to catch up. We left Philadelphia 3 days ago, traveled through Istanbul, and are now held captive in a “fancy” Soviet hotel in Bishkek. I took the most frigid shower yesterday morning, I thought by skull would simply turn into ice and shatter. The toilet paper looks like brown crate-paper and is oddly stretchy. It goes into the trash after use. Strange but not particularly troubling…J

Let me back up a bit…

Istanbul was amazing. It’s so full of ancient sites (the walls were built around the city over a thousand years ago and were destroyed by the Turks in the 15^th century), but the streets are full of cars and the men and women walk the streets in modern clothing. Mosques are everywhere and prayers are said on loud-speakers frequently. It is such a fascinating place. We rode the metro light-rail from the airport into town, drank Turkish coffee, went crazy with pictures, and immensely enjoyed everything. Istanbul reminded me of Ecuador. Simply because it was so similar to the US and yet so different. It’s always so fascinating to see new places and have new experiences.

There is little that I can say about Krygyzstan yet. We haven’t had the chance to interact with the people here or see the countryside. The view from our balcony is lovely. There are bare, softly sloped hills next to the city and snow covered peaks in the distance. It’s amazing that there could possibly still be snow there when the days here can be hotter than 110F. The base of the trees that line the road are painted white. There were people gathered in clusters on the sidewalks at 3am when we drove in.

Part of me still doubts that I’ll be able to do it. Apparently the challenges that we’ll face are often overwhelming for the PC volunteers. Kyrgyzstan has one of the highest PCV drop-out rates of any country in the world. Nearly 2/3 of PC Krygyz trainees chose “early termination” and leave before their service term is up. But the fear of failure is slowly being replaced by the excitement the experience. What I will gain will be much more than what I will give up.

Our group is fabulous, very creative and adventurous. Everyone has so many great travel stories, I could happily listen to them talk about them for hours. Many of my first impressions of them have changed a lot. I’m not sure what brought each of us here and I don’t know which of us will succeed in making this place our home, but I hope that I will be able to develop some close friendships while I’m here, both with PCVs and with people in my communities.

Tomorrow marks our first step toward independence; tomorrow we meet our host families. We will live with them for the next 3 months while we’re in training. I know the first few days (weeks) with my family will be awkward with my very limited language skills, but I’m prepared for that. Hopefully the integration into the culture proceeds smoothly and my language skills progress rapidly. First month’s strategy: limit vodka intake.

I’m attaching some of the more interesting photos from the trip. If they stay in order after I upload them, they are: 1) the city walls of Istanbul, 2) more walls, 3) market in Istanbul, 4) mosque in Istanbul- either the Haga Sofia or the Blue Mosque?, 5) Turkish coffee on roof-top café, 6) Istanbul from the plane, 7) Bishkek sunset from hotel, 8) Soviet bus in parking lot