P.S. Did this still smell when it got to you?

Actually, Peach, it did. Your perfume soaked letter is actually serving as an air freshener in my room right now. Thanks! I’m thinking I might even rub it across my wrist tomorrow morning before going to class…

Thanks to everyone who has written me. I feel like a Freshman in college again – I just can’t shake the perma-smile. I appreciate the hand-written stuff because it’s so personalized with the handwriting, creative envelopes/postage, blurry water spots, whatever. It’s refreshing to hear news from home (that place I’ll return to in two years). FYI, I recently realized that it’s actually more expensive to send mail via the Post Office than it is to send e-mails. I guess I had just assumed that the “old fashioned” method would be less expensive. So, what does this mean for the future of my loyal pen-pals? Let’s just compromise on an e-mail/Air Mail combo. I’m willing to splurge for the sake of amusing myself with trips to the local Post Office. One other note on lines of communication: I purchased a cell phone and am exploring options that fit within my Peace Corps budget. Basically, I can accept incoming calls from the U.S. free of charge, and if you set up an account on Skype, the long-distance calling fee is substantially reduced. If you are desperate to hear my voice, then call my mom for my cell number. That being said, don’t feel that you have to invest money you don’t have in long-distance phone conversations….we can keep in touch all the same!

So, my first package from home was pilfered. Apparently, U.S postage makes you personal items a target. Unfortunately, there’s not really anything I can do about it, other than to have a sense of humor/readjust my expectations. As it turns out, only a few items were stolen: Candy, a Nalgene, and a pair of work-put pants. I’d consider myself fortunate, considering three pairs of shoes, two shirts, and other items didn’t strike this thief’s fancy. I just imagine some slob pigging out on my candy, and then squeezing into my pants (swinging my Nalgene in his/her free hand) to work off all those calories/clear their guilty conscience…exactly what I would have been doing;)

Thanks to mom’s birthday (Aug 5th) I wasn’t without sweets for long. My host family bought a cake so that we could celebrate here, which I found pretty touching. The other volunteers in my village joined us for a few rounds of toasts, which we read out of our notebooks. One translates as “May there always be Peace on Earth, and bread on your table.” Then there was my improve. toast in Russian, which was basically me yelling out “I love you” towards the sky...kind of melodramatic now that I think back on it.

I’ve had a couple requests for more info on my current living situation. I’m already going on my fifth week in Kyrgyzstan and it’s easy for me to bypass the details of my daily life without even realizing it. Let’s start with a legitimate dilemma – I don’t speak fluent Kyrgyz. I think I’ve learned quite a bit in a month, but I still have a ways to go; and from here on out, the drill doesn’t get any easier. Basic communication with my host family exists, but I feel like they have the toughest job. They provide for me there first three months and then, just when I’m able to speak Kyrgyz better than a 4 year old, I leave for my permanent site. Sometimes the biggest frustration is not being able to demonstrate a sense of humor or share an opinion that doesn’t rely on charades or painstaking dictionary scanning. My host family knows some English vocabulary, but no complete sentences, as far as I know. Of course, some days are better than others, as far as my ability to communicate goes. Sometimes it’s the useless phrases/situations that I can relay the easiest. For instance, the other day I was taking a sun shower and the water shut off. I had just lathered my hair into a huge white afro and suddenly found myself stranded in a potentially awkward situation. Fortunately, I scavenged some water off the banya supply and lived to share this story with my host family. I could manage phrases like “no water,” “much soap in my hair,” and “banya water.” We all laughed and then my elder host sister sent me back with a bucket of warm water, even though I was already done, because all that cold water could make me sick. Gotta love the self-prescribed health measures;)



My Chong Apa (grandmother) insisted that I send my mom a picture of the birthday cake, so here it is. Revealing the cake was a pretty proud moment! I also want to point out the mug in the left-hand corner – I start every day with a cup of coffee in the “Daily Delight” mug.

My host family, whom I’ll refer to by relationship titles (I don’t want to post their names). Starting on the left, there is my Bauke, Eje, my two little brothers, and Chong Apa. We get lots of visiting family, which I have trouble keeping up with at times…and that explains the young boy in the middle, who I have not officially met.