June 19 - Thursday
My classes are going okay. Most of them consist of 4-6 students, and normally we just sit around and talk about whatever comes up. Sometimes I bring worksheets and exercises for the pre-intermediate groups, to add a bit of direction and structure to what are otehrwise relatively laid-back lessons. For example, one of the worksheets asked them to choose a person from their friends and family, and describe them in detail. How long have you known this person - what do they look like - what is their occupation - do you get along well - what sort of things do you have in common... that sort of thing. Then we all talk about the person we chose. Sometimes we play games like 20 Questions, where each student has to pick a person, place, food, animal or object and the others have to ask a series of descriptive yes or no questions in order to figure out what they are thinking of. Or occasionally I'll ask the students about a movie they've seen or a book they've read recently, and they have describe the characters and the plot of the story.
One game that I'm particularly proud of is something I came up with for my elementary level students. I show them a simple picture (which I got from the teacher file) and it might show, say, two men sitting near a ladder with paint buckets, and there are also other small details that add interest to the photo. One of the men is scared or anxious looking - one of the paint buckets has tipped over - maybe there is a mouse in the corner of the room - or a light switch on the wall. Then I ask the students to name every English word they recognize from the picture while I write them under the apprpriate category of Adjective, Verb or Noun. (I don't think any of the other teachers realize the tables are actually a lot more dry-erase compatible than the old worn-out white boards, but kudos to me for THAT discovery).
Anyways, they list off as much as they can from looking at this one simple picture: man, two, blue, sit, angry, paint, light, on, scared, mouse, fall, tall, hair, shoes, be - and I supply words that they don't aready know - ladder, light switch, finished, rest. Then I ask them to look at our word lists and create as many sentances as they can to describe the picture. Then we move on to the next picture and do it all again. To finish the lesson on a lighter note I erased all the word lists, set out each of the pictures for them to look at, and had them play hang man from the day's vocabulary.
Each day I learn new tricks and ideas for how to run my lessons, and how to keep the students involved. Of course there are always one or two kids who would obviously rather be somewhere else, and they don't participate much. I still haven't exactly decided what my policy is on such students. On the one hand I think, "What a terrible shame that these kids' parents have paid for English courses, only to have them sit in classes and tune out." I want to find some way to require that they participate. But then again the structure of this English school is not nearly as strict as regular school. There is no formal attendance policy and students are not graded on homework or assignments. They are only tested once at the end of the course to make sure they're advanced enough to move on to the next level. And honestly, these students are between the ages of 16 and 18; I feel like they are mature enough to know that they won't learn squat unless they take an active part in their own education. I can't help but think that if they want to waste this experience, it's up to them, and I can't really force them to do otherwise. Oh well. I suppose for now I'll just keep trying different things and hope that something piques their interest.
June 22 - Sunday
Well It's been a confusing and somewhat stressful couple of weeks. Two weekends ago should have been the opening conference for AIESEC's Save the Future Project. Back then I was getting all frantic trying to prepare the training materials for the sessions I'll be leading, but I found out at the last minute that the whole thing was moved to the next Sunday. Then this weekend it was the same story. I scrambled to get everything together only to find out that once agian, the project had been pushed back a week. I suppose I shouldn't be too upset about this because it really only allows me more time to prepare everything, but it's still a little frustrating when things get down to the wire and then change unexpectedly.
I've been working with a girl named Cholpon, who is my interperiter for this project. The students I'll be teaching don't know English, so will translate for me during the event itself. She and I make a point to meet up every few days to discuss the presentation materials and go over the concepts I plan to present. I'm really glad to have her around, because I'm not really able to meet with the AIESEC kids about these things. They meet while I'm at work. Cholpon offers me valuable input and ideas here and there, which helps me feel like I'm not doing this all alone.
I'm not actually sure if Cholpon gets paid to do this. If AIESEC here is anything like AIESEC at home, then there probably isn't exactly extra cash laying around to employ interperiters. But she studies English at University, and I've found that people in this city are often eager to spend time with a foreigner from an English-speaking country. They want the opportunity to practice their conversation skills. I have a theory that this has something to do with why I'm still struggling so much to learn Russian. Almost every person I know here is somehow connected to AIESEC, and organization whose official language is English, or my job, an English-teaching school that has a policy to avoid using Russian at work.
June 24 - Tuesday
Tomorrow I'm starting a new class to prepare students for the FLEX program. FLEX is sponsored by the US Department of State, and it stands for Future Leaders EXchange. FLEX consists of a series of applications, essays, interviews, Eglish aptitude tests and other activities. The winners will be chosen to spend a year in the United States as high school exchange students. The idea is to take motivated, proactive teenagers from former USSR countries and show them what it's like to live in a democratic society. Then hopefully they will bring that vision back home with them, and become active change agents within their own communities.
The other teacher who is doing it with me, Bermet, is a FLEX Alumnus, and she spent a year with a host family in Arkansas during her senior year of high school. Bermet is a really cool chick, and I'm glad to be teaching with her. For the next six weeks she will be coaching the students on the structure of the competition, while I'll be working with them to increase their vocabulary. After that, she and another teacher (because I'll be back in The States by then) will help get the kids psychologically ready to become all-around strong applicants. They will have practice interveiws and assign sample essay questions and the like. I really think it's a cool program; it reminds me a little of TAMS. I hope one of my students are selected, even though none of that will be decided for months to come.
June 26 - Thursday
So the other day I'm with Cholpon, my translator for the upcoming AIESEC project, and she is helping me buy some more minutes for my cell phone. Another guy was there trying to fix some phone problem of his own, and when I heard him speaking I had to ask, "Where are you from?" He obviously was a foriegner, and my guess would have been that he's British, judging from his accent. Turns out that this guy, Stephon, is Swiss, and he's been cycling around Central Asia for the last two months. Once we got to talking about what brought each of us to Bishkek and what we were doing here in the city, I come to realize that not only had I found a fellow traveler, but an AIESEC Alumnus to boot. We exchanged emails and agreed to have dinner together at some point later in the week.
This is not something I often do in the States. Meeting strangers on the street? Being friendly? Offering to hang out later at some cafe, chatting over beer and mutton? I'm glad I did though. This is one of those things that I think all travelers must do at some point. I mean after all, how else are you supposed to make friends in a foreign city? Last night Stephon and I met for dinner at a restraunt very near where I'm living, and it he absolutely lived up to my own prejudice that travelers tend to be intriguing people. He told me about how he spent six months working in Slovakia on an AIESEC internship after college, then stayed for another nine months after that to teach German. He said he'd spent the last six years of his life working in an office, and then suddenly snapped and said, "I quit. I'm going to take all the money I've saved and wander the continent for a few months." Heh, cool. So that's what he's been doing since April - hopping trains all along the silk road, taking pictures, eating the local foods and generally just living the nomadic lifestyle.
We talked about other things too. He and I exchanged tips on where to go in the city, good places to eat, nice parks we've seen, et cetera. We talked about the culture differences between our home countries and Kyrgyzstan, and discussed stereotypes we each had about the other person's country (America vs. Switzerland). This is about the time things got really interesting. You see, I had noticed a man sitting alone at a table across the way who was listening to our conversation. This guy looks just like one of the Beetles, except that he's Kyrgyz, and he lives in my building. He's got a reputation for being a lush. "That man, he drink many alcohol," noted my host mother the first time I saw him stumbling across the street by our building. I'd never spoken to him before because I just assumed this dude was a sketchy character. But anyways, at this point in my conversation with Stephon he decided to speak up, and I couldn't have hidden the look of surprise on my face if I tried. This man had the most sophistocated English I'd ever heard a Kyrgyz person use, INCLUDING the English teachers I work with. And what's more, he went off into this deep, complicated monologue about the current social and political situation of Kyrgyzstan, and the future of this country. It would have been a very interesting discussion if Stephon and I hadn't been so flabbergasted. Haha. But yeah, the guy had definitely had quite enough to drink and by the time he finally finished talking, Stephon and I decided it was time to ask for the bill. Unexpected things happen to me every day here, but I never cease to be amazed when they do.
Tune in later amigos.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
Thursday, June 19, 2008
Sim cards and dating
June 12 - Thursday
People here are not very religious. Officially, Kyrgyzstan is a Muslim country, but so far it doesn't seem like many people go to Mosque or talk about their beliefs or anything (at least not to me). As far as I can tell, a majority of the people here lead a basically secular life, but with a few traditions thrown in here and there. For example, when you are finished eating but before you get up from the table, you make a gesture with your hands like you're washing your face, then bring them down into a prayre shape and say "Omin", which is similar in meaning to "Amen". Other than that sort of thing, I haven't seen a whole lot of religious activity.
A very famous Kyrgyz writer died this week. His name is Chingiz Aitmatov, and apparently his books are known all around the world. I can't believe I'd never heard of him before. Some of his titles (translated into English) are White Ship, Jimila, Mother's Field and Plaha (among many others). But anyways, this guy was very well loved by the Kyrgyz people, because not only was he a famous writer, but he was also involved in the government and social organizations. He did a lot to improve the city, and now that he's gone, everybody mourns together. On the news I saw the traditional mourning ceremony, which takes place out in the country inside a Yurta, or circular hut thing that is lined and decorated with traditional Kyrgyz carpets. When a person dies, they are taken to a Yurta, where their family may visit them and say goodbye. Then after three days the person is moved and a funeral ceremony is held, after which he is buried.
Aitmatov's funeral took place in the center of the city, at the Philharmonia. So I had a front-row view of it right out my window. The music they play on the street is very interesting and sad, it sounds like a cross between singing and crying, accompanied by a traditional Kyrgyz stringed instrument which I can't remember the name for. Although I'm sad for this country's loss, I also feel lucky to have been able to witness such a tradition; perhaps I will also get to see a Kyrgyz wedding before I go home.
June 14 - Sunday
I bought a cell phone today. I guess the time has finally come when I'm popular enough to need one. Before, only Begaiym and Kanybek ever had any reason to call me, and they both knew my home number. If I wasn't at home, they each knew that I must have been with the other one, and they had one another's cell phone numbers as well. Over the last two weeks though, a handful of other people have asked for my number, but I never got any calls. Turns out that people have been trying to get in touch with me, but I just haven't been getting the messages, coz my host family has no answering machine, and my host sisters keep forgetting to pass along my messages.
Anyways, I'm tired of missed connections, and I'm tired of having to sit at home and wait when I'm expecting a call. So now I have a little Nokia friend :). The phone, sim card, charger and a hundred minutes all cost me 1600 Soms (about $40). I realize now that I could have just brought the phone I already had, and then bought a new sim card from a local service provider in Bishkek for only 150 Soms, but I didn't really understand any of this stuff before I left. I just went with the advice of a more experienced friend: "When I go to Japan every summer, I usually just buy a phone while I'm there and sell it before I leave." I suppose that when I leave Bishkek, I'll take the phone with me and keep it as a back-up for when my current cell phone breaks. Done deal.
But yeah. Today's post is not about cell phones. It's about NEEDING a cell phone. Last weekend I went out with AIESEC kids, but other than Saturday night I sort of just bummed around the house all weekend. This weekend I got invited to so many things that I actually had to turn 3 or 4 people down. Marat invited me to his wife's Birthday party, and he also invited me to his nephew's circumcision (which is apparently a traditional Kyrgyz ceremony that all boys go through when they start walking). Williams and one other dude whose name escapes me at the moment, who are both talking club teachers like me, each asked if I wanted to do something Sunday, and Jeff offered to show me around the city. On top of that, this Sunday should have been opening conference for AIESEC's "Save the Future" project. So I had to write a speech and meet with an interperiter who could translate for me during the event.
I'm sure you can imagine then, my disappiontment when one by one, each of my plans either fell through or were postponed. And worse still, I didn't have any way to contact the people who I'd turned down because of my "busy schedule". I don't really know what to think. Either I'm repeatedly misunderstanding everybody when they try to make plans with me, or the Kyrgyz people are just flighty. Oh well. At least now I have a phone, so either way I'm sure communication problems will be less frequent in the future.
June 16 - Monday
One thing I really like about this culture is the fact that people wear the same clothes over and over again. At home if you wear the same otufit two days in a row, people will tend to assume that you are either poor or in the middle of doing laundry, and you have nothing else to wear. But that's not at all the case in Kyrgyzstan.
In this culture it is perfectly acceptable to wear the same outift, or variations on the same outfit, for several days in a row. Even for really nice, dressy clothes, you just keep wearing them, or alternate with other clothes, until they are dirty. I really like this. As someone who is not hugely interested in fashion or mixing and matching, I find that this is a huge relief, especially considering the limited amount of clothes and accessories I brought with me on this trip.
I've also noticed that social scripts for when it's apropriate to wear certain types of clothes to this or that occasion are completely different than what you see in the United States. There are people here who dress like they are going out to the night club, even if they're only walking down the street to buy groceries. Yet other people will wear much more casual stuff to what I normally would have assumed is a formal environment, like at work for example. Many people wear boring, unattractive clothes, while others mix pieces that I myself would never think to wear together. Like track pants and heels, for example.
And get this: I've seen more pairs of bright yellow heels i this city than I have ever seen in my life. I can't decide if it's because yellow shoes are stylish right now, or if they are simply more popular here. I don't understand fashion rules in this country, if there are any. Which is a huge load of my mind, because it effectively gives me the freedom to wear whatever the heck I want, when I want, and for as long as I like (or don't like). It's nice. People never seem to comment on each other's clothes at all. They don't even compliment one another if somebody is wearing especially fancy clothes, because some people dress like that all the time. You don't stand out much when you're especially dressy.
April 19 - Thursday
How do you know for sure when a date is a date? There are a few tell-tale signs, right? The other person dresses up, or they keep popping mints or gum. Or perhaps they offer to buy your meal, or open doors. Or maybe you go on a walk afterwards, just talking, and at the end the guy will walk you do your door instead of dropping you off with a casual, "See you later." But what about in other countries? What if the person you're having dinner with would pay for your meal even if the two of you were the same sex? What if walking is a common social activity, and opening doors is customary?
People here have all been very nice to me. Usually when I meet somebody that I'm likely to see again, whether it's somebody from AIESEC or work, or a friend of a friend, they very often offer to take me out and show me around. But lately I'm noticing that I get a lot more invitations like these from guys than from girls. I can't figure out if they are just being hospitable, or if they are asking me out on a date. At home if a guy asks me for my number, I can safely assume that he intends to ask me out. But here I'm not so sure.
The reason I bring this up is because a few nights ago I had a really good time at a cafe with somebody I know from work. He picked me up, we went and had a couple drinks, we laughed, we talked, he paid for me and then we went for a really long walk. I got home at 2 in the morning, and I woke up the next day with a big grin on my face. Was this a date? Hah, I really have no idea. He didn't try to make any moves on me, but that could mean anything. Maybe he was just a gengleman. Maybe people don't kiss on the first date around here. Maybe the evening was just a friendly get-together, and nothing romantic at all. It just makes me reflect on the whole ritual of courtship, and I can't help but laugh at all the silly little signs people look for, rather than just being open and honest about their feelings. The little signs make it easy to avoid being direct, but all the rules change when you're courting across culture barriers. I suppose either way I'll find out soon enough, but all the same. It's an interesting puzzle.
Tune in later amigos :)
People here are not very religious. Officially, Kyrgyzstan is a Muslim country, but so far it doesn't seem like many people go to Mosque or talk about their beliefs or anything (at least not to me). As far as I can tell, a majority of the people here lead a basically secular life, but with a few traditions thrown in here and there. For example, when you are finished eating but before you get up from the table, you make a gesture with your hands like you're washing your face, then bring them down into a prayre shape and say "Omin", which is similar in meaning to "Amen". Other than that sort of thing, I haven't seen a whole lot of religious activity.
A very famous Kyrgyz writer died this week. His name is Chingiz Aitmatov, and apparently his books are known all around the world. I can't believe I'd never heard of him before. Some of his titles (translated into English) are White Ship, Jimila, Mother's Field and Plaha (among many others). But anyways, this guy was very well loved by the Kyrgyz people, because not only was he a famous writer, but he was also involved in the government and social organizations. He did a lot to improve the city, and now that he's gone, everybody mourns together. On the news I saw the traditional mourning ceremony, which takes place out in the country inside a Yurta, or circular hut thing that is lined and decorated with traditional Kyrgyz carpets. When a person dies, they are taken to a Yurta, where their family may visit them and say goodbye. Then after three days the person is moved and a funeral ceremony is held, after which he is buried.
Aitmatov's funeral took place in the center of the city, at the Philharmonia. So I had a front-row view of it right out my window. The music they play on the street is very interesting and sad, it sounds like a cross between singing and crying, accompanied by a traditional Kyrgyz stringed instrument which I can't remember the name for. Although I'm sad for this country's loss, I also feel lucky to have been able to witness such a tradition; perhaps I will also get to see a Kyrgyz wedding before I go home.
June 14 - Sunday
I bought a cell phone today. I guess the time has finally come when I'm popular enough to need one. Before, only Begaiym and Kanybek ever had any reason to call me, and they both knew my home number. If I wasn't at home, they each knew that I must have been with the other one, and they had one another's cell phone numbers as well. Over the last two weeks though, a handful of other people have asked for my number, but I never got any calls. Turns out that people have been trying to get in touch with me, but I just haven't been getting the messages, coz my host family has no answering machine, and my host sisters keep forgetting to pass along my messages.
Anyways, I'm tired of missed connections, and I'm tired of having to sit at home and wait when I'm expecting a call. So now I have a little Nokia friend :). The phone, sim card, charger and a hundred minutes all cost me 1600 Soms (about $40). I realize now that I could have just brought the phone I already had, and then bought a new sim card from a local service provider in Bishkek for only 150 Soms, but I didn't really understand any of this stuff before I left. I just went with the advice of a more experienced friend: "When I go to Japan every summer, I usually just buy a phone while I'm there and sell it before I leave." I suppose that when I leave Bishkek, I'll take the phone with me and keep it as a back-up for when my current cell phone breaks. Done deal.
But yeah. Today's post is not about cell phones. It's about NEEDING a cell phone. Last weekend I went out with AIESEC kids, but other than Saturday night I sort of just bummed around the house all weekend. This weekend I got invited to so many things that I actually had to turn 3 or 4 people down. Marat invited me to his wife's Birthday party, and he also invited me to his nephew's circumcision (which is apparently a traditional Kyrgyz ceremony that all boys go through when they start walking). Williams and one other dude whose name escapes me at the moment, who are both talking club teachers like me, each asked if I wanted to do something Sunday, and Jeff offered to show me around the city. On top of that, this Sunday should have been opening conference for AIESEC's "Save the Future" project. So I had to write a speech and meet with an interperiter who could translate for me during the event.
I'm sure you can imagine then, my disappiontment when one by one, each of my plans either fell through or were postponed. And worse still, I didn't have any way to contact the people who I'd turned down because of my "busy schedule". I don't really know what to think. Either I'm repeatedly misunderstanding everybody when they try to make plans with me, or the Kyrgyz people are just flighty. Oh well. At least now I have a phone, so either way I'm sure communication problems will be less frequent in the future.
June 16 - Monday
One thing I really like about this culture is the fact that people wear the same clothes over and over again. At home if you wear the same otufit two days in a row, people will tend to assume that you are either poor or in the middle of doing laundry, and you have nothing else to wear. But that's not at all the case in Kyrgyzstan.
In this culture it is perfectly acceptable to wear the same outift, or variations on the same outfit, for several days in a row. Even for really nice, dressy clothes, you just keep wearing them, or alternate with other clothes, until they are dirty. I really like this. As someone who is not hugely interested in fashion or mixing and matching, I find that this is a huge relief, especially considering the limited amount of clothes and accessories I brought with me on this trip.
I've also noticed that social scripts for when it's apropriate to wear certain types of clothes to this or that occasion are completely different than what you see in the United States. There are people here who dress like they are going out to the night club, even if they're only walking down the street to buy groceries. Yet other people will wear much more casual stuff to what I normally would have assumed is a formal environment, like at work for example. Many people wear boring, unattractive clothes, while others mix pieces that I myself would never think to wear together. Like track pants and heels, for example.
And get this: I've seen more pairs of bright yellow heels i this city than I have ever seen in my life. I can't decide if it's because yellow shoes are stylish right now, or if they are simply more popular here. I don't understand fashion rules in this country, if there are any. Which is a huge load of my mind, because it effectively gives me the freedom to wear whatever the heck I want, when I want, and for as long as I like (or don't like). It's nice. People never seem to comment on each other's clothes at all. They don't even compliment one another if somebody is wearing especially fancy clothes, because some people dress like that all the time. You don't stand out much when you're especially dressy.
April 19 - Thursday
How do you know for sure when a date is a date? There are a few tell-tale signs, right? The other person dresses up, or they keep popping mints or gum. Or perhaps they offer to buy your meal, or open doors. Or maybe you go on a walk afterwards, just talking, and at the end the guy will walk you do your door instead of dropping you off with a casual, "See you later." But what about in other countries? What if the person you're having dinner with would pay for your meal even if the two of you were the same sex? What if walking is a common social activity, and opening doors is customary?
People here have all been very nice to me. Usually when I meet somebody that I'm likely to see again, whether it's somebody from AIESEC or work, or a friend of a friend, they very often offer to take me out and show me around. But lately I'm noticing that I get a lot more invitations like these from guys than from girls. I can't figure out if they are just being hospitable, or if they are asking me out on a date. At home if a guy asks me for my number, I can safely assume that he intends to ask me out. But here I'm not so sure.
The reason I bring this up is because a few nights ago I had a really good time at a cafe with somebody I know from work. He picked me up, we went and had a couple drinks, we laughed, we talked, he paid for me and then we went for a really long walk. I got home at 2 in the morning, and I woke up the next day with a big grin on my face. Was this a date? Hah, I really have no idea. He didn't try to make any moves on me, but that could mean anything. Maybe he was just a gengleman. Maybe people don't kiss on the first date around here. Maybe the evening was just a friendly get-together, and nothing romantic at all. It just makes me reflect on the whole ritual of courtship, and I can't help but laugh at all the silly little signs people look for, rather than just being open and honest about their feelings. The little signs make it easy to avoid being direct, but all the rules change when you're courting across culture barriers. I suppose either way I'll find out soon enough, but all the same. It's an interesting puzzle.
Tune in later amigos :)
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Liz and laundry
Saturday - June 6
Dear Elisabeth,
I miss you a lot. I'm sorry I haven't written or emailed you yet. I'm actually ashamed that I haven't so much as Facebooked you since I got here. But truth be told, it's difficult to be in contact with home while I'm here. Every minute I spend in this internet cafe feels like a minute of my summer that I'm cheating myself out of. I'm worried about spending too much time in my own little world, rather than becoming a part of this one. It's a little lonely here from time to time, since I haven't been able to build up much of a social life yet. These things take time. And in the meantime I hang out around the house reading or writing an awful lot, mostly coz I'm not sure what else to do with myself.
I wonder right now what you are up to. Surely, as sweet and popular you are everywhere you go, you're not struggling to keep busy? I bet you're having a really good summer so far. I wonder if you're with your family in Trophy Club still. If so, I imagine you spending time with your Mom and Dad, babysitting the kids for David and Deanna, or perhaps catching up with Terry or Jenelle or Bethany, or one of your other many friends. Did Kacie's wedding turn out okay? I'm sure your mom did an excellent job on the bride's maids' dresses for you and Bethany, and that you looked stunning.
Or maybe you are back in Columbia already? Perhaps right now you are beginning new classes, or finishing up your Philosophy course. I myself thought about registering for an Economics class at the American University of Central Asia in Bishkek, but it never quite worked out. Jeff, one of the guys at MK International, mentioned the idea to me, and honestly, I would have been glad for a chance to spend more time with him. Jeff is very good looking, and his English and knowledge of American culture is better than anybody I've met here -- which makes him a prime candidate for my summer crush.
But alas, the Economics thing fell through. I wouldn't have known where to begin with registering on my own, let alone figuring out how to buy my books and get to and from class every day. That seems to happen to me a lot here, where someone will propose a good idea, I will agree, and it never happens because either the other person forgets to follow through, or I'm just too shy to remind them to help me. And of course I don't know how to do anything on my own. So lately I feel kind of helpless; I sort of just wait for things to happen to me (which they always do, sooner or later).
It's not so bad though. I suppose surrendering some of my own self-confidence and sense of independance was all part of the trade off. After all, I get to see and do and experience things here that I would never have the opportunity to do otherwise. And all in good time, I'm sure I will learn how to use the bus, how to use the phone, and how to make plans to do things with friends. Until then I just pass the time by strolling, reading, and talking to people when I can.
You're on my mind dear. If there is any one person I want to have with me here, anyone on the whole planet, it would be you. I think of you often and I hope you are well. I love you and I'll call as soon as I can.
Sunday - June 7
There is a man who lives on the street in front of my building. He sleeps in the grass by the road, behind a hedge that I suppose shields him from sight at ground-level. But I see him every morning and every night when I sit at the window. I wonder who he is and what's his story. In my mind, his name is Ringo.
Tonight as I watched people walking below me on the sidewalk I noticed a man going by on a walker. He couldn't have been too much older than me, and judging from his irregular walk I think he must have some nerve disease. I saw him looking up at me and I waved from my window, which he responded to by waving back and blowing me a kiss. It made me smile. I dearly hope that one day I might live in a city, with an apartment high above the street where I can sit at the window every day and watch as people pass. Perhaps then I will also name people that I recognize, assigning them lives and personalities that I've invented. This is not a bad way to live.
Monday - June 8
Today I kept daydreaming about going home, and forevor remembering these two weeks as just an exciting, short-lived vacation. Unlike last time, these feelings did not stem from a sense of lonliness, but rather a continued frustration that I still don't know how to take care of myself here. On Saturday night the AIESEC kids went out to a disco, Fire and Ice, so we could send off Lumi (the Kyrgyz MC President) in style. It was fun. I stayed the night with Daniel and Begaiym, and we watched movies the next morning. It was cool, but I still felt slightly ho-hum.
There is some seriously good shopping around here, if you know where to look. I've GOT to find my way back to that mall somehow. Mom is talking about putting together a care package for me, so I need to give some serious thought to what sort of souvineers I will to take home for friends and family. This will be fun. I love shopping.
Tuesday - June 9
I'm having a tough time with my job. I wonder if I can do this; I just don't feel qualified. I dread going to classes, because I have no idea how to prepare. I don't know what the other talking club teachers do in class, or what these students have done in talking clubs for previous English courses. I thought I would have more training. I thought there would be a lesson plan or something I could follow, but there isn't and I feel a little lost.
I fear my students, and what they think of me. I fear that they are saying and thinking exactly what I would be saying, if I had a teacher like me: "This is bullshit. This chick has no idea what she's doing." I guess I figured somebody would hold my hand through this. I thought I would be nurtured and babied and my job would be easy. But that's not how it is at all.
Instead I feel sort of like I've been tossed into the water and told to sink or swim. It's experiences like these that show you what you're really made of, but maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I just want to sink. I want to quit and go home and never exert myself again. My home is safe, I always know how to get by, and how to keep myself occupied. At least now I do. I guess what I'm going through now is a lot like when I came to College Station for the first time.
Back then I felt like I didn't have any friends. I didn't know what to do and where to go for this or that. But I had no choice but just to carry on. What could I do? I knew full well that switching schools again would be just as difficult as staying there. And it's not like I actually had no friends. I had Kiki and Rebecca almost from the very beginning. And I knew tons of people in town from high school and TAMS.
And it's the same story here. I'm not nearly as helpless as I sometimes feel. I have AIESEC stuff to work on, I have Begaiym and other AIESEC people to hang out with. I have a job that I need to show up to every day, I have Kanybek looking after me, I have Marat driving me around everywhere. I have other teachers who are friendly and offer me tips and advice on how to run my classes. I have a host family who lives with me, cooks for me, takes me to the Saulna for hot showers. My host mother and Achmirelde are currently in Osh for ten days, but when they come back to Bishkek I will have a warm, maternal figure who is good conversation, and I will have a sweet little host sister to play with.
And yesterday's lessons were not so bad anyway. In fact, my elementary lesson went quite well. I reviewed numbers and letters with them, and we practiced pronunciation and spelling things out loud. After that was my upper-intermediate class, and although there were occasional lags in conversation at first everything went smoothly after things got rolling, especially once we started talking about English slang. Then my last class was pre-intermediate level. It consisted of just one girl, who despite her lack of English grammar was very enthusiastic. We talked about food and going out and things like that. It was fine.
Two weeks. I've been here almost two weeks now. Maybe if I just quit dwelling on my "hardships" I can do this. The first week was the toughest. The second went by much more quickly. Maybe the third week will pass even more quickly still? Next week I'm doing the trainings for AIESEC, and then? Maybe then I can peter out and go home. I wonder if my mom would lie for me... perhaps a family emergency? Or could I simply tell the truth? Could I bear the disappointment of letting everyone down like that?
Of course not. This is silly. I'm not in any real pain or difficulty here, I'm just adjusting to a different lifestyle. People do this all the time, and I can do it too. So there.
Wednesday - June 10
I have to admit that I feel a little ashamed of the fuss I made yesterday about going to work. I mean what is there to prepare, really, for a talking club? These students learn out of books and memorize rules in their grammar classes, they don't need it from me. No, all they really need is a little bit of vocabulary review for the lower level classes, practice with some of their pronunciation, and an opportunity to think on their feet in English. That's easy. All I have to do, really, is prepare a few questions to get the conversation started. Of course there are moments when everyone runs out of things to say, but that's no real disaster. The universal human tendency to avoid awkwardness drives everyone involved to cast about for new subjects of conversation.
Thank God for my upper-intermediate level students. They are the most advanced. Talking to them is like talking to anybody with [more or less] fluent English. Especially Aziz, a student of mine who is quite interesting conversation. I actually wouldn't mind hanging out with that guy in a normal social setting. And as for my elementary and pre-intermediate classes go, their grammar is not so good and we do sometimes have to draw pictures for eachother to get our point across, but talking to them isn't bad at all. I see no reason why I should freak myself out over planning lessons and exercises for them. In retrospect I feel positively ridiculous for having agonized so much yesterday before going to work.
Today I washed two weeks worth of underwear with a bar of soap in the bathtub. Begaiym, who has a washing machine in her flat, insisted that I give her my dirty laundry so she could wash it for me; but before handing it off I made sure to go through and pick out all the undies so she wouldn't have to deal with them. Would YOU want to wash somebody else's old skivvies? I don't think so.
So I asked Aida, my host sister, how her family does laundry. I don't think she understood the question, coz she just showed me to a hamper of dirty clothes.
"Yeah, but do you wash them here in the bathroom, or do you take them somewhere else to be washed?"
"...Yes"
Uh, okay. I assume they wash their own clothes here at the flat. I've never seen them do it, but why else would they have clothes lines strung up in the back bedroom by the windows? I decided to get right down to it, and started boiling some hot water on the stove for me to wash them in.
This is a new revelation for me, heating up water in a kettle to wash with, rather than just enduring cold spit-baths. Actually I think I'm to be congratulated on such a discovery, because it's a problem I figured out how to solve completely on my own. That gives me great satisfaction. And to think, just a month ago I would have been utterly baffled at the prospect of washing my own clothes by hand, or having no hot water on tap. But now that it's a reality, I hardly miss the other way of doing things.
While the luxuries of Western living, sush as dish washers, hair conditioner, central air and TV dinners are indeed convenient, I really don't miss them very much. Without those things you kida just do what you gotta do to get by, it's not a big deal at all... I don't even miss normal American toilet paper. The stuff people use here is exactly like brown crepe paper. Ha, whatever, it' works. Human adaptability continues to amaze me.
Vanessa when I read your comment on my last post it made me swell with affection! In my talking clubs I sometimes ask students if they have any pets, and then I tell them all about my sister's noisy little dog :). I love you, I'll talk to you again soon!
Tune in later amigos.
Dear Elisabeth,
I miss you a lot. I'm sorry I haven't written or emailed you yet. I'm actually ashamed that I haven't so much as Facebooked you since I got here. But truth be told, it's difficult to be in contact with home while I'm here. Every minute I spend in this internet cafe feels like a minute of my summer that I'm cheating myself out of. I'm worried about spending too much time in my own little world, rather than becoming a part of this one. It's a little lonely here from time to time, since I haven't been able to build up much of a social life yet. These things take time. And in the meantime I hang out around the house reading or writing an awful lot, mostly coz I'm not sure what else to do with myself.
I wonder right now what you are up to. Surely, as sweet and popular you are everywhere you go, you're not struggling to keep busy? I bet you're having a really good summer so far. I wonder if you're with your family in Trophy Club still. If so, I imagine you spending time with your Mom and Dad, babysitting the kids for David and Deanna, or perhaps catching up with Terry or Jenelle or Bethany, or one of your other many friends. Did Kacie's wedding turn out okay? I'm sure your mom did an excellent job on the bride's maids' dresses for you and Bethany, and that you looked stunning.
Or maybe you are back in Columbia already? Perhaps right now you are beginning new classes, or finishing up your Philosophy course. I myself thought about registering for an Economics class at the American University of Central Asia in Bishkek, but it never quite worked out. Jeff, one of the guys at MK International, mentioned the idea to me, and honestly, I would have been glad for a chance to spend more time with him. Jeff is very good looking, and his English and knowledge of American culture is better than anybody I've met here -- which makes him a prime candidate for my summer crush.
But alas, the Economics thing fell through. I wouldn't have known where to begin with registering on my own, let alone figuring out how to buy my books and get to and from class every day. That seems to happen to me a lot here, where someone will propose a good idea, I will agree, and it never happens because either the other person forgets to follow through, or I'm just too shy to remind them to help me. And of course I don't know how to do anything on my own. So lately I feel kind of helpless; I sort of just wait for things to happen to me (which they always do, sooner or later).
It's not so bad though. I suppose surrendering some of my own self-confidence and sense of independance was all part of the trade off. After all, I get to see and do and experience things here that I would never have the opportunity to do otherwise. And all in good time, I'm sure I will learn how to use the bus, how to use the phone, and how to make plans to do things with friends. Until then I just pass the time by strolling, reading, and talking to people when I can.
You're on my mind dear. If there is any one person I want to have with me here, anyone on the whole planet, it would be you. I think of you often and I hope you are well. I love you and I'll call as soon as I can.
Sunday - June 7
There is a man who lives on the street in front of my building. He sleeps in the grass by the road, behind a hedge that I suppose shields him from sight at ground-level. But I see him every morning and every night when I sit at the window. I wonder who he is and what's his story. In my mind, his name is Ringo.
Tonight as I watched people walking below me on the sidewalk I noticed a man going by on a walker. He couldn't have been too much older than me, and judging from his irregular walk I think he must have some nerve disease. I saw him looking up at me and I waved from my window, which he responded to by waving back and blowing me a kiss. It made me smile. I dearly hope that one day I might live in a city, with an apartment high above the street where I can sit at the window every day and watch as people pass. Perhaps then I will also name people that I recognize, assigning them lives and personalities that I've invented. This is not a bad way to live.
Monday - June 8
Today I kept daydreaming about going home, and forevor remembering these two weeks as just an exciting, short-lived vacation. Unlike last time, these feelings did not stem from a sense of lonliness, but rather a continued frustration that I still don't know how to take care of myself here. On Saturday night the AIESEC kids went out to a disco, Fire and Ice, so we could send off Lumi (the Kyrgyz MC President) in style. It was fun. I stayed the night with Daniel and Begaiym, and we watched movies the next morning. It was cool, but I still felt slightly ho-hum.
There is some seriously good shopping around here, if you know where to look. I've GOT to find my way back to that mall somehow. Mom is talking about putting together a care package for me, so I need to give some serious thought to what sort of souvineers I will to take home for friends and family. This will be fun. I love shopping.
Tuesday - June 9
I'm having a tough time with my job. I wonder if I can do this; I just don't feel qualified. I dread going to classes, because I have no idea how to prepare. I don't know what the other talking club teachers do in class, or what these students have done in talking clubs for previous English courses. I thought I would have more training. I thought there would be a lesson plan or something I could follow, but there isn't and I feel a little lost.
I fear my students, and what they think of me. I fear that they are saying and thinking exactly what I would be saying, if I had a teacher like me: "This is bullshit. This chick has no idea what she's doing." I guess I figured somebody would hold my hand through this. I thought I would be nurtured and babied and my job would be easy. But that's not how it is at all.
Instead I feel sort of like I've been tossed into the water and told to sink or swim. It's experiences like these that show you what you're really made of, but maybe I don't want to know. Maybe I just want to sink. I want to quit and go home and never exert myself again. My home is safe, I always know how to get by, and how to keep myself occupied. At least now I do. I guess what I'm going through now is a lot like when I came to College Station for the first time.
Back then I felt like I didn't have any friends. I didn't know what to do and where to go for this or that. But I had no choice but just to carry on. What could I do? I knew full well that switching schools again would be just as difficult as staying there. And it's not like I actually had no friends. I had Kiki and Rebecca almost from the very beginning. And I knew tons of people in town from high school and TAMS.
And it's the same story here. I'm not nearly as helpless as I sometimes feel. I have AIESEC stuff to work on, I have Begaiym and other AIESEC people to hang out with. I have a job that I need to show up to every day, I have Kanybek looking after me, I have Marat driving me around everywhere. I have other teachers who are friendly and offer me tips and advice on how to run my classes. I have a host family who lives with me, cooks for me, takes me to the Saulna for hot showers. My host mother and Achmirelde are currently in Osh for ten days, but when they come back to Bishkek I will have a warm, maternal figure who is good conversation, and I will have a sweet little host sister to play with.
And yesterday's lessons were not so bad anyway. In fact, my elementary lesson went quite well. I reviewed numbers and letters with them, and we practiced pronunciation and spelling things out loud. After that was my upper-intermediate class, and although there were occasional lags in conversation at first everything went smoothly after things got rolling, especially once we started talking about English slang. Then my last class was pre-intermediate level. It consisted of just one girl, who despite her lack of English grammar was very enthusiastic. We talked about food and going out and things like that. It was fine.
Two weeks. I've been here almost two weeks now. Maybe if I just quit dwelling on my "hardships" I can do this. The first week was the toughest. The second went by much more quickly. Maybe the third week will pass even more quickly still? Next week I'm doing the trainings for AIESEC, and then? Maybe then I can peter out and go home. I wonder if my mom would lie for me... perhaps a family emergency? Or could I simply tell the truth? Could I bear the disappointment of letting everyone down like that?
Of course not. This is silly. I'm not in any real pain or difficulty here, I'm just adjusting to a different lifestyle. People do this all the time, and I can do it too. So there.
Wednesday - June 10
I have to admit that I feel a little ashamed of the fuss I made yesterday about going to work. I mean what is there to prepare, really, for a talking club? These students learn out of books and memorize rules in their grammar classes, they don't need it from me. No, all they really need is a little bit of vocabulary review for the lower level classes, practice with some of their pronunciation, and an opportunity to think on their feet in English. That's easy. All I have to do, really, is prepare a few questions to get the conversation started. Of course there are moments when everyone runs out of things to say, but that's no real disaster. The universal human tendency to avoid awkwardness drives everyone involved to cast about for new subjects of conversation.
Thank God for my upper-intermediate level students. They are the most advanced. Talking to them is like talking to anybody with [more or less] fluent English. Especially Aziz, a student of mine who is quite interesting conversation. I actually wouldn't mind hanging out with that guy in a normal social setting. And as for my elementary and pre-intermediate classes go, their grammar is not so good and we do sometimes have to draw pictures for eachother to get our point across, but talking to them isn't bad at all. I see no reason why I should freak myself out over planning lessons and exercises for them. In retrospect I feel positively ridiculous for having agonized so much yesterday before going to work.
Today I washed two weeks worth of underwear with a bar of soap in the bathtub. Begaiym, who has a washing machine in her flat, insisted that I give her my dirty laundry so she could wash it for me; but before handing it off I made sure to go through and pick out all the undies so she wouldn't have to deal with them. Would YOU want to wash somebody else's old skivvies? I don't think so.
So I asked Aida, my host sister, how her family does laundry. I don't think she understood the question, coz she just showed me to a hamper of dirty clothes.
"Yeah, but do you wash them here in the bathroom, or do you take them somewhere else to be washed?"
"...Yes"
Uh, okay. I assume they wash their own clothes here at the flat. I've never seen them do it, but why else would they have clothes lines strung up in the back bedroom by the windows? I decided to get right down to it, and started boiling some hot water on the stove for me to wash them in.
This is a new revelation for me, heating up water in a kettle to wash with, rather than just enduring cold spit-baths. Actually I think I'm to be congratulated on such a discovery, because it's a problem I figured out how to solve completely on my own. That gives me great satisfaction. And to think, just a month ago I would have been utterly baffled at the prospect of washing my own clothes by hand, or having no hot water on tap. But now that it's a reality, I hardly miss the other way of doing things.
While the luxuries of Western living, sush as dish washers, hair conditioner, central air and TV dinners are indeed convenient, I really don't miss them very much. Without those things you kida just do what you gotta do to get by, it's not a big deal at all... I don't even miss normal American toilet paper. The stuff people use here is exactly like brown crepe paper. Ha, whatever, it' works. Human adaptability continues to amaze me.
Vanessa when I read your comment on my last post it made me swell with affection! In my talking clubs I sometimes ask students if they have any pets, and then I tell them all about my sister's noisy little dog :). I love you, I'll talk to you again soon!
Tune in later amigos.
Friday, June 6, 2008
horse milk and RENT
Tuesday - June 2
I had a really depressing day today-- so much so that I was actually flipping through the coverage brochure for my travel insurance to see if I'm eligable for emergency evacuation. I cut my foot the other day, but it doens't look like that merits a free and immediate trip back to the United States. But there's nothing like dinner out with a group of friendly people to cheer you up. Tonight Begaiym picked me up and brought me to a "Bye Bye Bye Dinner" AIESEC Kyrgyzstan was holding for a member of its MC who is leaving for Baharain. I don't know if it was the wine, the fact that AIESECers speak English so well, or just the fact that kids in AIESEC are somehow friendly by nature, but either way I left tonight feeling a hundred and ten percent better.
After dinner I came home and had tea with my host mother and Achmirelde, both of whose company I enjoy more and more every time they're around. Achmirelde is by far my favorite person in Bishkek (no offense to the other awesome people). She makes me feel good all the time when I'm with her. AND she is the best Russian teacher I've met. Tonight she and I had fun pointing to various objects around the kitchen and coaxing the other to name them in both English and Russian. God bless the little children, eh?
My host mother told me tonight about how when she was younger, she wanted to have ten kids. Then she said, "Now I have no husband, but I get a forth daughter." It made me feel really warm and fuzzy inside, and I took a moment to fully appreciate the fact that although I'm here as a "working adult," I'm still lucky enough to have some sort of maternal figure looking after me. It also made me think of my own mother, and how much I miss her and the home she made for my sister and me.
Wednesday - June 3
I like it here. Tonight Begaiym and I sat down for the first time to discuss the Save The Future project that AIESEC KG is putting on. There will be an opening conference on June 15, and for six days after that there will be one session per day, lead by me, which are meant to teach the kids things like team building, public speaking, critical thinking, problem solving, etc.. I have to admit that at first I was worried about having to prepare and lead sessions. I mean what the hell do I know about those things?
But now that we've gone through the agenda a bit, and now that I've had a chance to talk to Begaiym about the details of this project, I'm actually getting really excited to be involved. There will be 18 kids participating; 9 school children and 9 orphans, all high-school aged. After the six days of trainings there will be a closing conference and competition where each group demonstrates the skills they've learned, by presenting their proposed solution to a specific social problem. The idea is to show that no matter what your background is, all kids have the same capability to succeed. If this whole thing goes as planned, I think it will be a huge success. And to think, such an event will have been completely planned and executed by young people like me. That's pretty awesome.
Thursday - June 4
Last night I drank horse milk for the first (and hopefully only) time. My policy on food so far is "Eat whatever they give you." I don't mind trying new and unusual things, but it's tricky sometimes. My host family eats about five times a day, and they are always saying to me, "Eat. Eat, why you don't eat more? You not like?" It's not that, I'm just not in the mood sometimes. Normally I'll eat something just to show that I don't dislike their food, but they serve me seconds, and thirds, and even when I say no thank you, they feed me anyway. If there's one thing I've learned about my major, it's that there are some cultural universals that apply everywhere: 1) Sharing food is a tremendous gesture of positive face, and 2) always be kind and respectful towards children and old people. If you know those two things, and if you keep an open and flexible mind, you can learn to fit in with any culture.
The horse milk wasn't so bad, as long as I held my nose. I can't even begin to describe the taste though. It was like no dairy product I've ever had. It had a sharp, almost sour taste, and the sensation of it on my toungue reminded me of carbonated drinks. And it smelled like coconut. But people here love it, so whatever...
Kyrgyz people are also somewhat superstitious about cold water. To them of course it's just good common sense, not superstition, but it doesn't make much sense to me. For example, right now there is a city-wide shortage of hot water (except in the homes that have a private water heater). People here would rather just go a while without bathing than take a cold shower. And they don't drink cold water here, it's always hot tea, no matter how warm it is outside. Begaiym told me that cold water is bad for you when you're really thirsty. Some people believe that it will make you sick. Personally, I think this is a lot like the American urban legend that handling toads will give you warts, or that if you shave, your hair will grow in darker and thicker than before. It really doesn't make any sense, but somehow such beliefs persist.
Friday - June 5
This morning when I was having breakfast with Aida and Kanykei, I heard something unsettlingly familiar in the next room. Realizing that it was something playing on TV, I quickly got up and rushed out to see if I was indeed hearing what I thought I was hearing. In the living room I could have fainted from joy to see RENT playing on the television. It could have been any movie, American or not, but no, it just so happened to be one of my favorite movies of all time. I speant a good three years of my life, from age 17-19, completely obsessing about RENT. I watched the movie over and over; I went to go see the stage perfromance (twice); I read books both about and written by people who were involved in the original Broadway production; I bought the movie soundtrack, I bought the Broadway soundtrack, and I played the hell out of both of them in my car...
Just last night I was sitting at the window of my room singing to myself, as I am oft to do at the end of the day when I'm alone. And I was singing what else but RENT songs. But now, this morning, here it is, playing on some godforsaken Kyrgyz television in between commercials for Indian instant coffee and updates on the Turkish futbol team. The movie was of course dubbed over in Russian, but it didn't matter. I've seen it enough times to know all the words anyway. I might have dissolved into a puddle of musical cinematic pleasure right then and there, if it hadn't been for one thing.
At about that time Achmirelde, my six year old host sister, walked into the living room feeling sick. This wasn't just one of those whimsical passing complaints that children sometimes have, either. She was in some serious discomfort. Immediately everyone in the family tried to make her comfortable on the couch, and sat around her speaking softly over her crying. I moved to sit by her and offer some sort of comfort as well, but RENT was still on in the corner of the room, and try as I might to ignore the music that effectively made up the soundtrack to my own life for so long, it was still there, distracting me from more important matters at hand.
I can honestly say that I was deeply conflicted in that moment. No movie on Earth other than this could have distracted me from Achmirelde; while similarly, very few things other than a sick and crying child could have pulled my attention away from RENT. Of course I didn't sit there watching TV during a family mini-crisis, but as I stroked Achmirelde's hair I could hear the movie just the same, and my inner self struggled between feelings of pity and compassion for my host sister, the glee that RENT automatically arouses in me, and the intense sense of comfort I felt at having stumbled across this nugget of my home in a distant place. After a little while, the girl's stomache pains subsided, the movie ended and life went on as usual. But it felt really good to have come across my favorite movie. It put me in a good mood for the rest of the day.
I keep telling myself that the fequency and length of my posts will have to go down if I don't want to spend my life (and my money) in this internet cafe. But oh well. For now I guess I have nothing else to do.
Tune in later amigos :)
I had a really depressing day today-- so much so that I was actually flipping through the coverage brochure for my travel insurance to see if I'm eligable for emergency evacuation. I cut my foot the other day, but it doens't look like that merits a free and immediate trip back to the United States. But there's nothing like dinner out with a group of friendly people to cheer you up. Tonight Begaiym picked me up and brought me to a "Bye Bye Bye Dinner" AIESEC Kyrgyzstan was holding for a member of its MC who is leaving for Baharain. I don't know if it was the wine, the fact that AIESECers speak English so well, or just the fact that kids in AIESEC are somehow friendly by nature, but either way I left tonight feeling a hundred and ten percent better.
After dinner I came home and had tea with my host mother and Achmirelde, both of whose company I enjoy more and more every time they're around. Achmirelde is by far my favorite person in Bishkek (no offense to the other awesome people). She makes me feel good all the time when I'm with her. AND she is the best Russian teacher I've met. Tonight she and I had fun pointing to various objects around the kitchen and coaxing the other to name them in both English and Russian. God bless the little children, eh?
My host mother told me tonight about how when she was younger, she wanted to have ten kids. Then she said, "Now I have no husband, but I get a forth daughter." It made me feel really warm and fuzzy inside, and I took a moment to fully appreciate the fact that although I'm here as a "working adult," I'm still lucky enough to have some sort of maternal figure looking after me. It also made me think of my own mother, and how much I miss her and the home she made for my sister and me.
Wednesday - June 3
I like it here. Tonight Begaiym and I sat down for the first time to discuss the Save The Future project that AIESEC KG is putting on. There will be an opening conference on June 15, and for six days after that there will be one session per day, lead by me, which are meant to teach the kids things like team building, public speaking, critical thinking, problem solving, etc.. I have to admit that at first I was worried about having to prepare and lead sessions. I mean what the hell do I know about those things?
But now that we've gone through the agenda a bit, and now that I've had a chance to talk to Begaiym about the details of this project, I'm actually getting really excited to be involved. There will be 18 kids participating; 9 school children and 9 orphans, all high-school aged. After the six days of trainings there will be a closing conference and competition where each group demonstrates the skills they've learned, by presenting their proposed solution to a specific social problem. The idea is to show that no matter what your background is, all kids have the same capability to succeed. If this whole thing goes as planned, I think it will be a huge success. And to think, such an event will have been completely planned and executed by young people like me. That's pretty awesome.
Thursday - June 4
Last night I drank horse milk for the first (and hopefully only) time. My policy on food so far is "Eat whatever they give you." I don't mind trying new and unusual things, but it's tricky sometimes. My host family eats about five times a day, and they are always saying to me, "Eat. Eat, why you don't eat more? You not like?" It's not that, I'm just not in the mood sometimes. Normally I'll eat something just to show that I don't dislike their food, but they serve me seconds, and thirds, and even when I say no thank you, they feed me anyway. If there's one thing I've learned about my major, it's that there are some cultural universals that apply everywhere: 1) Sharing food is a tremendous gesture of positive face, and 2) always be kind and respectful towards children and old people. If you know those two things, and if you keep an open and flexible mind, you can learn to fit in with any culture.
The horse milk wasn't so bad, as long as I held my nose. I can't even begin to describe the taste though. It was like no dairy product I've ever had. It had a sharp, almost sour taste, and the sensation of it on my toungue reminded me of carbonated drinks. And it smelled like coconut. But people here love it, so whatever...
Kyrgyz people are also somewhat superstitious about cold water. To them of course it's just good common sense, not superstition, but it doesn't make much sense to me. For example, right now there is a city-wide shortage of hot water (except in the homes that have a private water heater). People here would rather just go a while without bathing than take a cold shower. And they don't drink cold water here, it's always hot tea, no matter how warm it is outside. Begaiym told me that cold water is bad for you when you're really thirsty. Some people believe that it will make you sick. Personally, I think this is a lot like the American urban legend that handling toads will give you warts, or that if you shave, your hair will grow in darker and thicker than before. It really doesn't make any sense, but somehow such beliefs persist.
Friday - June 5
This morning when I was having breakfast with Aida and Kanykei, I heard something unsettlingly familiar in the next room. Realizing that it was something playing on TV, I quickly got up and rushed out to see if I was indeed hearing what I thought I was hearing. In the living room I could have fainted from joy to see RENT playing on the television. It could have been any movie, American or not, but no, it just so happened to be one of my favorite movies of all time. I speant a good three years of my life, from age 17-19, completely obsessing about RENT. I watched the movie over and over; I went to go see the stage perfromance (twice); I read books both about and written by people who were involved in the original Broadway production; I bought the movie soundtrack, I bought the Broadway soundtrack, and I played the hell out of both of them in my car...
Just last night I was sitting at the window of my room singing to myself, as I am oft to do at the end of the day when I'm alone. And I was singing what else but RENT songs. But now, this morning, here it is, playing on some godforsaken Kyrgyz television in between commercials for Indian instant coffee and updates on the Turkish futbol team. The movie was of course dubbed over in Russian, but it didn't matter. I've seen it enough times to know all the words anyway. I might have dissolved into a puddle of musical cinematic pleasure right then and there, if it hadn't been for one thing.
At about that time Achmirelde, my six year old host sister, walked into the living room feeling sick. This wasn't just one of those whimsical passing complaints that children sometimes have, either. She was in some serious discomfort. Immediately everyone in the family tried to make her comfortable on the couch, and sat around her speaking softly over her crying. I moved to sit by her and offer some sort of comfort as well, but RENT was still on in the corner of the room, and try as I might to ignore the music that effectively made up the soundtrack to my own life for so long, it was still there, distracting me from more important matters at hand.
I can honestly say that I was deeply conflicted in that moment. No movie on Earth other than this could have distracted me from Achmirelde; while similarly, very few things other than a sick and crying child could have pulled my attention away from RENT. Of course I didn't sit there watching TV during a family mini-crisis, but as I stroked Achmirelde's hair I could hear the movie just the same, and my inner self struggled between feelings of pity and compassion for my host sister, the glee that RENT automatically arouses in me, and the intense sense of comfort I felt at having stumbled across this nugget of my home in a distant place. After a little while, the girl's stomache pains subsided, the movie ended and life went on as usual. But it felt really good to have come across my favorite movie. It put me in a good mood for the rest of the day.
I keep telling myself that the fequency and length of my posts will have to go down if I don't want to spend my life (and my money) in this internet cafe. But oh well. For now I guess I have nothing else to do.
Tune in later amigos :)
Tuesday, June 3, 2008
UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE
Here I am, and I have much to tell. My trip started out on a somewhat isolated note; I didn't really talk to anybody on the first flight (God bless tiny TVs in the back of the seat in front of you... not). After that I wandered around Heathrow Airport in London for 5 hours, feeling hungry and groggy but not sure what to do about it. It seems like a simple enough problem, but for some reason I felt very uncertain and indecicive. Just as I was beginning to feel less self-conscious about my American accent and the fact that I obviously didn't know how to use English currency, the time came for me to board another flight to Bishkek.
The second leg of my journey was much better. I chatted with a cute British flight attendant, as well as a very friendly Russian woman, Olga, who sat behind me, and a Kazaki guy sitting next to her. Making small talk with them about what I'd be doing in Bishkek made me feel a lot better. They were so sweet, they even offered to switch rows with me so I could lay across their seats and have a nap. At first I wasn't sure how to take the gesture-- I often find myself feeling suspicious about people's intentions, because when you're in a foreign land you have no idea what's normal and what's not. My concerns about whether Olga wanted to steal my stuff turned out to be completely unfounded, and the nine hour flight with her and the other people I met was a great comfort. They gave me lots of advice and reassurance, which I appreciated more than they could know. Olga gave me a big hug after we picked up our luggage and we exchanged emails... Maybe I'll meet up with her for tea sometime during my stay.
I arrived at my host home in the middle of the night. Kanybek from MK International, Begaiym from AIESEC, and another boy whose name I forget brought me to my host family's flat (that's what they call apartments here), and the first thing I did when I had a bit of privacy was cry. I really needed a hug, it had been a long and tiring journey. I've never felt so alien before. But so far people in Bishkek are very nice. My host family consists of a Mom, a girl about my age named Kanykei, a 16 year-old named Aida, and a 6 year old girl named Achmirelde. The next morning the mom made me a breakfast of tea, bread and raisins. Later she made some potatos, tea again, and some orange baby-food looking stuff that I didn't like too much. I ate it anyway. I can't bear to refuse their hospitality.
That day Kanybek and a friend of his picked me up to run some errands to the bank, US Embassey, an internet cafe and lunch. Kanybek's friend bought me some kind of milky-white frothy drink from a street vendor, and I successfully resisted the intense urge to vomit. I'm not sure what that stuff was called, but it's the Kyrgyz national drink-- fermented goat's milk. That and the orange stuff is the only Kyrgyz food I don't like so far.
Every morning I wake up at about 6:30. I don't plan it that way, that's just how my jetlag worked out. Each night I'm tired enough to fall asleep by 10:30, and can you imagine, for the first time in my life I have no use for an alarm clock. I treasure my mornings here more than anything. It's really nice to have some peace and quiet to myself to read or write. Just before the rest of the family has breakfast together at around 8:30, I stand and look out the open window at the people passing by, seven stories below me on the street. It's a very peaceful way to begin the day.
My host family has put me up in the back bedroom, the biggest room in the house. While I appreciate their hospitality, something just doesn't set right wtih me about the fact that while the rest of the family sleeps on fold-out couches and floormats, I'm sleeping alone in a queen-sized bed in a room that gets the best breeze in the house. Still, I'm learning to take it in stride. How strange it is for an person who was raised in a country that worships independance, to be a guest in a country that values hospitality so highly.
Every so often I think about quitting on this whole internship and just going home. It's always a momentary feeling, but I can't help it. It comes whenever I consider the fact that I'm completely dependent on everybody I know here. Something about that scares me a lot, and I get these little flashes of anxiety about it. People here take care of me. They feed me, refill my teacup for me, take me out and show me around, buy coffee or bottled water or ice cream for me... I know I shouldn't feel guilty for it but I do. My American upbringing dictates that I be ashamed of the imposition I'm causing everybody here. But all the people I know seem glad to help out. I'm still learning how to be okay with that.
Any anxieties I feel throughout the day always pass as soon as some one extends some gesture of kindness, whether that be in the form of trying to talk to me in broken English, or simply speaking to me in Russian because they don't know any English at all. There is something very touching about having a person still want to communicate with me, despite the fact that everything from my height, to my language, to my tastes, to my grooming habits is foreign. I hope I can somehow show everyone how thankful I am for their kindness.
My Russian is coming along much more slowly than I would like. You'd think that after five days I'd know how to say more than just 'one, two, three, four' (odin, dua, tri, chetyre), 'tea' (cha) and 'thank you' (spasibo). One of my biggest fears is getting through these ten weeks without ever progressing past traveler's Russian. I can only assume, blindly, that that won't happen. For now though, I'm learning that picking up a language from scratch, with no formal training, is much harder than I expected.
On Sunday I met most of my students for the first time. Kanybek and Jeff, the directors of MK International, took me and the students to the mountains to hike, play games and hang out eating barbeque. It was a lot of fun. They tried to teach me a Russian card game which I never really understood fully; and I taught them how to play Egyptian Rat Screw, which turned out to be quite a popular game, especially after everyone had had a couple beers.
That night one of my host sisters, Aida, took me to go have the first proper shower I'd had since I arrived. Her mother owns a business that is something like a spa. People can show up, take a hot shower and lounge around smoking on big comfy leather couches, watching TV. It was fantastic. There is nothing like a long shower and a shave to wash away a day's worth of dirt, leftover from hanging out on a mountain.
At least as often as I feel uncertain and homesick, I also feel intensely grateful for this experience. I suppose that's the hardest thing of all, never being able to settle on a single set of feelings about what I'm going through here. If this is culture shock, then I have to say, it's not nearly as shocking as it is confusing. For everybody who hasn't heard from me yet, please know that I did indeed get here safe and happy. I will keep you posted as best I can (but future posts will probably not be this lengthy). If there's one thing I won't have any of you doing, it's worrying. Just keep praying for me; or if you don't pray, then keep sending me positive vibes. I love you guys.
Tune in later amigos.
The second leg of my journey was much better. I chatted with a cute British flight attendant, as well as a very friendly Russian woman, Olga, who sat behind me, and a Kazaki guy sitting next to her. Making small talk with them about what I'd be doing in Bishkek made me feel a lot better. They were so sweet, they even offered to switch rows with me so I could lay across their seats and have a nap. At first I wasn't sure how to take the gesture-- I often find myself feeling suspicious about people's intentions, because when you're in a foreign land you have no idea what's normal and what's not. My concerns about whether Olga wanted to steal my stuff turned out to be completely unfounded, and the nine hour flight with her and the other people I met was a great comfort. They gave me lots of advice and reassurance, which I appreciated more than they could know. Olga gave me a big hug after we picked up our luggage and we exchanged emails... Maybe I'll meet up with her for tea sometime during my stay.
I arrived at my host home in the middle of the night. Kanybek from MK International, Begaiym from AIESEC, and another boy whose name I forget brought me to my host family's flat (that's what they call apartments here), and the first thing I did when I had a bit of privacy was cry. I really needed a hug, it had been a long and tiring journey. I've never felt so alien before. But so far people in Bishkek are very nice. My host family consists of a Mom, a girl about my age named Kanykei, a 16 year-old named Aida, and a 6 year old girl named Achmirelde. The next morning the mom made me a breakfast of tea, bread and raisins. Later she made some potatos, tea again, and some orange baby-food looking stuff that I didn't like too much. I ate it anyway. I can't bear to refuse their hospitality.
That day Kanybek and a friend of his picked me up to run some errands to the bank, US Embassey, an internet cafe and lunch. Kanybek's friend bought me some kind of milky-white frothy drink from a street vendor, and I successfully resisted the intense urge to vomit. I'm not sure what that stuff was called, but it's the Kyrgyz national drink-- fermented goat's milk. That and the orange stuff is the only Kyrgyz food I don't like so far.
Every morning I wake up at about 6:30. I don't plan it that way, that's just how my jetlag worked out. Each night I'm tired enough to fall asleep by 10:30, and can you imagine, for the first time in my life I have no use for an alarm clock. I treasure my mornings here more than anything. It's really nice to have some peace and quiet to myself to read or write. Just before the rest of the family has breakfast together at around 8:30, I stand and look out the open window at the people passing by, seven stories below me on the street. It's a very peaceful way to begin the day.
My host family has put me up in the back bedroom, the biggest room in the house. While I appreciate their hospitality, something just doesn't set right wtih me about the fact that while the rest of the family sleeps on fold-out couches and floormats, I'm sleeping alone in a queen-sized bed in a room that gets the best breeze in the house. Still, I'm learning to take it in stride. How strange it is for an person who was raised in a country that worships independance, to be a guest in a country that values hospitality so highly.
Every so often I think about quitting on this whole internship and just going home. It's always a momentary feeling, but I can't help it. It comes whenever I consider the fact that I'm completely dependent on everybody I know here. Something about that scares me a lot, and I get these little flashes of anxiety about it. People here take care of me. They feed me, refill my teacup for me, take me out and show me around, buy coffee or bottled water or ice cream for me... I know I shouldn't feel guilty for it but I do. My American upbringing dictates that I be ashamed of the imposition I'm causing everybody here. But all the people I know seem glad to help out. I'm still learning how to be okay with that.
Any anxieties I feel throughout the day always pass as soon as some one extends some gesture of kindness, whether that be in the form of trying to talk to me in broken English, or simply speaking to me in Russian because they don't know any English at all. There is something very touching about having a person still want to communicate with me, despite the fact that everything from my height, to my language, to my tastes, to my grooming habits is foreign. I hope I can somehow show everyone how thankful I am for their kindness.
My Russian is coming along much more slowly than I would like. You'd think that after five days I'd know how to say more than just 'one, two, three, four' (odin, dua, tri, chetyre), 'tea' (cha) and 'thank you' (spasibo). One of my biggest fears is getting through these ten weeks without ever progressing past traveler's Russian. I can only assume, blindly, that that won't happen. For now though, I'm learning that picking up a language from scratch, with no formal training, is much harder than I expected.
On Sunday I met most of my students for the first time. Kanybek and Jeff, the directors of MK International, took me and the students to the mountains to hike, play games and hang out eating barbeque. It was a lot of fun. They tried to teach me a Russian card game which I never really understood fully; and I taught them how to play Egyptian Rat Screw, which turned out to be quite a popular game, especially after everyone had had a couple beers.
That night one of my host sisters, Aida, took me to go have the first proper shower I'd had since I arrived. Her mother owns a business that is something like a spa. People can show up, take a hot shower and lounge around smoking on big comfy leather couches, watching TV. It was fantastic. There is nothing like a long shower and a shave to wash away a day's worth of dirt, leftover from hanging out on a mountain.
At least as often as I feel uncertain and homesick, I also feel intensely grateful for this experience. I suppose that's the hardest thing of all, never being able to settle on a single set of feelings about what I'm going through here. If this is culture shock, then I have to say, it's not nearly as shocking as it is confusing. For everybody who hasn't heard from me yet, please know that I did indeed get here safe and happy. I will keep you posted as best I can (but future posts will probably not be this lengthy). If there's one thing I won't have any of you doing, it's worrying. Just keep praying for me; or if you don't pray, then keep sending me positive vibes. I love you guys.
Tune in later amigos.
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