My working life...

On September 18th, I swore in as an official Peace Corps Volunteer…and so my two years of service have begun. By this time I post this entry, I will have completed the third week of my so-called work experience. However, my work schedule insists upon taking on a life of its own. Where has that left me? Somewhere blissfully lost in a marathon of holiday celebrations. I’ll start from the top:

As fate would have it, the first three days in my new village coincided with the 100th birthday celebration of a local icon, Doctor U (we’ll go with a nickname). Evidently (if my facts didn’t get lost in translation), he was the first Doctor in Central Asia to perform a successful open-heart surgery. His patient lived something like 40 years, after the surgery; and this Doctor served as a successful mentor in the medical field. So, in a grand display of village pride, all school faculty renovated the village community center, Sunday through Tuesday. We’re not talking about a little sprucing up, either – we basically gutted this building. I was lost in a massive cluster of students, village government officials, and teachers, who all seemed to be working with a purpose, unbeknownst to me. I figure this time spent together outside of school was a blessing in disguise because I was able to bypass the pressures of meeting in a more formal atmosphere. Come Wednesday, they were still scrambling to plant flowers in the front before the holiday celebration began. At my host mother’s request, I was busy taking photos/attempting to record this historical day in Toruaigyr. The event began with a couple hours worth of singing, national instrument performances, speeches, and the revealing of a giant bust of Dr.U.

Then, we shipped off to the lake in busses for an afternoon filled with national games and traditional feasting. Yurts lined the shore – each family had prepared their own yurt and, if I had to guess, I’d say there were about 40 yurts in total. Inside, I joined my extended host family for a traditional feast (see photos on flicker). After, I caught a glimpse of the wrestling match that had drawn a very intense crowd of men. Some grandpa say that I was trying to take a photo over everyone’s head and decided to escort me into the heart of the crowd. It took a pushy (possibly slightly drunk) old man to make me infiltrate the scene, but my heart just about dropped when he almost pushed me into the center clearing. A quick getaway and I was making my way over to the field, where men were competing in national horse games. Unfortunately, I missed the game where a man chases a girl on horseback and has to catch her to win…it has a name and some cultural significance, but, at the moment, both escape my memory. I did catch some long-distance races and another game, which involved two men wrestling on horseback. The objective is to pull one’s opponent off their horse. The only other national horse game that I’m aware of involved the carcass of a goat/sheep. Something else to look forward to I suppose.

The following week, on Wednesday, we celebrated Ait (the breaking of the Muslim fast). So, no school, again. I woke up and had some Borsok with my family and a few guests came over to recite the Koran and share some Borsok and tea. The first house we went to, was a relatives house down the street, where I self-indulged on lots of fruit, nuts, and sweets. I had picked up on the hint that there would be a lot of food today, so I ate slowly and stopped before I was full. Ten houses and 11 hours later, I was painfully forcing down my last sip of tea. If I were to make a modest estimate, I’d guess I consumed 22 cups of tea, in total…you can just imagine how uncomfortable I felt. The meals at each house seemed to go in cycles: meat and rice, then fruit and pastries (with constant tea, of course). Essentially, we did a clean sweep of our neighborhood street, eating at everyone’s house. The rooms were usually separated – women in one and men in another. Somewhere around the 8th house, one of the women showed-off her elastic band skirt and they joked that I needed an “expando-skirt” too. I felt like I was back home for Thanksgiving with relatives making the same jokes about overeating and having a hay-day kidding me about my single status: “Do you have a boyfriend?” “Do you want a Kyrgyz husband? I know a guy that is tall and handsome, for you.” Some humor is universal, I suppose.

The following Mon. was Teacher’s Day, so instead of class, I joined in on a teacher party in the cafeteria. There was the familiar spread of food, accompanied by vodka and wine (I politely declined b/c drinking with co-workers is a slippery slope). There was dancing and singing and lots of games/skits. We’ll just leave this scene to your imagination, which probably won’t be that far from the truth.
Now, for a detailed recap of Wednesday, Oct. 8, because I think it deserves the attention. My day started with one English lesson at 8AM and then I had until two in the afternoon to prepare for my second English Club session. I attempted to show the movie “Cars” but was completely ambushed by a group of 30-35 students – note: I only had like 15 students show up for the first day of Club. My small computer screen and I were pretty much ineffective in entertaining a large group of 10-17 year-old students. In an effort to redeem myself, I will be reworking my English Club schedule over the weekend. I can chalk a few flops up to inexperience, but I also don’t want to waste anyone’s time. Then, back at my family’s house, I was introduced to a beautiful horse with an auburn mane, a momentary breath of fresh air. However, within the first five minutes, I confirmed that this horse was going to be on our dinner table in a few weeks and decided that I had best not become attached. Note: Apparently horse meat has a different protein and the odds are, a foreigner’s digestive system will react violently to it. Dawn, the other volunteer in my village, learned this lesson the hard way because she chowed-down on what she though was cow meat.

Then night came, and my host mother, who told me we were going to a wedding celebration, whisked me away. The son of a teacher at our school had just brought his bride to our village and we were invited to partake in Kyrgyz wedding protocol. First we went straight to see the bride in a private room, where she is waiting behind a white curtain that is draped with silk head-scarves. We added to her collection and then went to join in on the feast. Almost our entire school staff was present, so I silently quizzed myself on their names while I unconsciously downed three cups of tea. The food spread with impressive, but I always have a hard time pacing my appetite when the dessert foods (Borsok, fruit, pastries, candy, salads) are served first. When I heard about the “Singing Cup,” though, my stomach did a somersault and killed my appetite. The women were passing it off to one another like a microphone at a Karoke bar. Fortunately, nobody decided to victimize me my third week on the job. I’m wondering what my go-to song should be…any suggestions? Then while we ate some meat stew dish, something even more interesting was brewing. Yeah, that mix of techno/German/R&B/Indie music that I heard outside was for our two-hour dance party. By this point, half of the teachers are fearless from all the toasts that they’ve drank to and we’re dancing in a giant circle outside. My dancing performance was pretty weak, but the draw of the scene was far too interesting to run away/hide from. It’s funny, but the reality of the situation is that any dance move is less embarrassing than just standing still, so I’m working on retraining the threshold of my comfort level. After this, I thought we might file out, but I learned that we were to go back inside the house and have more tea. Then, we relocated to another room, where the meat was served. Part way though this segment of the feeding extravaganza, the power shut off and they brought in candles for light. I definitely felt privileged to be sharing in on such an important, private celebration. I realize I’m not really an inconspicuous addition to their social circle, but I feel welcome in their presence.

To be continued…