My Shoe Story

Maybe I should start with a disclaimer (otherwise whoever reads this might not understand why I’m so invested in shoe issues): At 5’10”, it’s nearly impossible to find shoes my size in Kyrgyzstan – and that’s no exaggeration. I’ve got to ensure at least a two year life span on whatever I brought with me. Anyways…

…Oh, maybe back in October, the Velcro strap on my black dress shoe lost its battle against the dusty debris of the village roads. It was a petty annoyance, but I quickly grow tired of bending down every few yards to put it back in place. The next time I was in the neighboring city, I came along a shoe repair shop and decided to poke my head in. The guy offered to fix it for 50 com (under 2 dollars), so I took a seat on the bench opposite him and handed it over. Had I thought it through ahead of time, I might have worn a separate pair so I could run my errands while he was working; but as it happened, I was bound to sit and wait. Nonetheless, through our small talk, we ended up finding a common connection through a newly married male teacher at my school. In the end, he waived the fee because he now considered it nothing more than a favor for a friend – what a guy. I remember thinking to myself that day about how humorous I found the entire situation. There’s no way, only a few months back, I would have imagined that managing to get Velcro replaced would make me feel so accomplished.

Well, wouldn’t you know, two weeks pass and then the other shoe lands me in the same predicament. Cherishing my little expeditions, I was actually kind of happy to be paying another visit to my shoe guy. This time, though, I just dropped it off and arranged to pick it up later on. At first, he told me he wouldn’t accept any payment…but a guy has got to make a living and after some insistence, he charged me 30 com. When I went back, his shop was closed for lunch, so I figured I would just wait until I came back the following week.

That week, my host mother mentioned that someone had asked her about my shoe. Figuring that I just wasn’t comprehending everything, because I found it hard to believe that anyone would be talking about my shoe, I let the comment slide. However, when I made my way back to the shoe shop, I was met with such a distressed expression. Apparently, he had sent my shoe with a taxi driver from my village, hoping to save me a trip. Again, I was astounded by his generosity/consideration and humored by the situation. He came out, looking for the taxi driver, but I assured him that this wasn’t the end of the world. Things here generally have their own way of working out and there’s no use in getting stressed-out.

Back in my village, I inquired about the comment my host mother had made a few days earlier and discovered that my shoe was now under the watch of one of my students (the taxi driver’s daughter). I had to cringe at the thought of that poor girl carrying around my not-so-dainty shoe in her backpack. Needless to say, she never found me at school, and the prolonged reunion continued. Eventually, the departure date for my trip to Ukraine arrived and all I could do was write down “find black shoe” on a post-it note, so that I could pursue the hunt when I returned. However, when I returned, I found it sitting inside my room and my host sister’s explanation was, “Cinderella.”

School is Back in Session

I just finished my first week back at school, which went a lot smoother than I have come to expect. I'm now actually teaching my English classes in the English classroom (the project of a former volunteer) and it's wonderful. Creating the right learning environment is so important; and since I've got English posters decorating the walls, I've instantaneously gained stronger legitimacy among my students. After a long winter absence, I've done a lot of reassessing, as far as my role as an English teacher here goes. Now that I feel I have a better hold on the daily nuances, I'm ready to give the students a quality experience with English. I just have to keep reminding myself that this is their third language - that, in and of itself, is impressive. Looking back, I studied Spanish for maybe four years and don't remember a lick. The American educational system could really benefit from some stronger mandatory foreign language instruction.

I'm a bit disappointed in myself for letting my blog entries slip. One of the main goals of Peace Corps is to share one's experiences with friends and family back home - to promote cross-cultural understanding. I suppose that after nine months, I've just become comfortable enough in this new environment to allow my old habits to sneak back into play, procrastination being the most prominent. However, know that I think of home often and I appreciate that anyone takes the time to check in on my happenings. Don't lose faith...I'll get on top of things.

For now, here are a few of the charming moments that outweigh any homesickness and frustrations that I may experience:

• I got into a play-wrestling match with my younger host brother and made him say, "You are the winner," in English. When he escaped to a safe enough distance, he turned around and told me, "I am a wiener!" - Never realized how easy it would be to mix those two words up...but I had to warn him how important it was to articulate;)
• My latest language fumble involves another dose of juvenile humor. I had discovered a favorite host breakfast cereal "Mankaya Kasha," so whenever I went to the bazar I would ask the saleslady, "Do you have Manka," and "Can you give me some Manka, please?" Then I would tell my host family that Manka was my favorite breakfast food. One day my host brother decided to break me the news: I wasn't making the correct nasaly sound when I said "Manka," so what I was really saying was "snot." If you make the substitution, you'll undersand why I don't even say this word any more...I just point. It gets the job done.
• I went to Lake Issyk-Kyl with a couple neighbors and they took me to a secret shore. It was about an our walk through farming fields and a mini forest. When we got to the lake, all stress just evaporated. The lake is unlike anything I've ever seen before - snow capped mountains that appear grey, blue or purple (depending upon the weather), glacier clear salt water lapping against the shore (with no water toys tearing it up), and one side that stretches so far across the Oblast that you cannot see it's shore. As we walked along, they started picking pieces of old clay pots from the sand. They told me these artifacts come from the village that was swallowed up by lake Issyk-Kul, long, long ago. Then, they started picking bones out of the sand. I saw my neighbor hold one up to his rib cage, imagining where it must have once been. It was nuts! I had a hard time believing that these where human bones, half buried in the sand, not in some sort of historical museum. They were just amused by my disbelief. We have plans to go back and play armature archeologists sometime soon, and this time I'll bring my camera!
  

So this is Christmas...

The holiday season began when I declared December 20th “Christmas in Kyrgyzstan.” My host father, who currently lives and works in another village to supplement the family income, came back to visit, so we decided to have our holiday feast early. Since my host family is Muslim, they celebrate the New Year, rather than Christmas....but the similarities are charming. The Kyrgyz New Year features a Santa Clause figure and his wife, who also happen to distribute gifts and hang around a christmas tree. Also, the bazar transforms into a tinstle wonderland, with a confusing/amusing mix of Batman costumes and citrus fruits - more on this latter. The anticipation of a gentle snow, combined with marathons of “Adin Doma” (Alone Home in Russian), helped keep the holiday spirit alive, something I was pretty worried about my first year away. The fact that our entire last week of school was centered around competitive New Year celebrations, over Christmas week, blurred any differences between our holiday calendars even more.

A quick note on my actual 2008 Christmas experience: a baby sheep was born Christmas Eve and my host family brought it into their house to sleep by the coal heater the first few nights. It cried all night long, but the timing was special (for lack of a better word). For some reason, I spent a half hour explaining the concept of a manager and the three wise men and my host brother and he named it “Christmas.” Bada-bing...and the next day we have a baby “Mary” as well. That night, mentally preparing for my trip to the outhouse, my sister came into the corridor and asked me, “Miss Erin, are you going to tiolet?” I nodded my head and she handed me my Christmas gift - an old notebook, aka substitute T.P.

Now, back to the New Year extravaganza at my school. Lessons technically ran through the last day of the semester, but our entire last week was trumped by New Year concerts in the activity room. The first day was for elementery forms. When I stuck my head in, all the little boys were dressed as Zorro, Batman or Spiderman and all the girls looked like they were competing in a little girls’ beauty pageant (but nothing as extreme as what you see on American documentaries about mom agents going nuts). They were reciting, singing, dancing and acting. The next day was for middle schoolers and the last day was reserved for 9-11th form, where the title of “best New Year performance” was taken very seriously.

As things often happen, I was publically nominated as a substitute judge for the last New Year party. I was invited to the judges’ table and told to gives scores for all 6 categories of the competition. I’m still not entirely sure, but I think I critiqued each class on a pantomime, dance, song, presentation, and a couple other categories. I kept my total scores pretty even, becuase I didn’t really feel qualified to influence the end result. However, I was given a five minute warning, that I was going to have to take the mic and say a little something on why I scored the way I did. Yikes. My counterpart helped translate my brief “I’m not going to say what was good and what was bad becuase everyone is talanted” speech, but when our senior class lost to the 10th form, some serious tears were shed.

I’m going to try and write more within the week, but now I’ve got to go. I’ve got a whole store of short stories and would also like to spend some time on reflection...and now that school is closed until March, I really have no excuse not to share more. Thanks for all the support from home! I love and miss you all!

Not Enough Sunlight Hours in One Day

I have just noticed that over a month has lapsed since my last post – a good sign that I’m keeping busy. My uncle Eric came for a 3 day visit over Thanksgiving weekend, leaving me a bit homesick (I got greedy for the framiliar), but mostly refreshed and inspired! After a rediculously complicated drive to my house, he arrived on a Saturday afternoon and had rallied a neighborhood game of Nerf football in our street an hour later. It was funny because he is fluent in Russian and I only understand Kyrgyz, so all the locals (including my host family) had to address us in separate languages…they all thought this language triangle was pretty amusing. Anyways, we played American football for somewhere around two and a half hours – until the cows came home, literally. We had to step aside as cows flooded the street, mooing and wandering around aimlessly. Then came the wave of sheep and goats, kicking up a cloud of dust that you’de rather not taste, if you can help it. That night we shared gifts and my host mother made pizza and a small batch of the Kyrgyz national bread: Borsok.

Early Sunday, we got up early to start cooking the Butterball turkey that Eric had brought. I’m simply amazed that he got it through customs in that little blue backpack of his; and my family was amazed to find that it wasn’t a live turkey (they had envisioned him arriving with a live turkey under his arm, aha). So, in order to beat the afternoon power outage, we put it in the toaster oven to cook while we went to the bazar in Balikchey to buy supplies for our Thanksgiving feast. Eric got really into the scavanger hunt for food products and we ended up finding ingredients for tuna salad (with a substitute fish), chili, sweet carrots, and mashed potatoes. Plus, he brought stuff for rice krispie bars and hot chocolate…it’s like a mild form of self-torture to even write about this food right now;) So, we invited the other volunteer and her host family, along with some family friends, over for our American style feast and Eric kept everyone engaged with stoies and jokes in Russian and English. Both of our host families showered him with national gifts and our time together went so incredabliy fast. On Monday, he came to school with me, as a Guest Speaker for my English classes. He wore the Kyrgyz Kalpak (a tall whites national hat) to class and everyone got a huge kick out of it. He introduced himself in English and then went back and forth with Russian so that everyone would understand him. They had lots of questions for him and it was encouraging to see my students so engaged. It made me even more anxious for the day when I am able to hold meaningful discussions in Kykgyz…as it currently stands, my Kyrgyz level doesn’t really allow for me to go off on tangents that may very well help engage students. Eric was such a hit that we had one class yelling, “we love you,” as we were walking out the door. Of course, we also met with the school director and other important figures in the village – Eric has such a dynamic personality that everyone enjoys talking with him. We hashed out some project ideas and accomplished a whole lot more than I had thought possible in the span of three days.

After school, we went to Bishkek and met up with my host family’s eldest son (who studies in Bishkek) for an endulgant meal at New York Pizza. It was perfect.

As I understand, the cold weather is harsher back home, but I suppose our winter hardships even out because we don’t have the advantage of central heating systems and unlimited power supplies here. I’m keeping myself busy with organizing a charity holiday party this December and planning a New Year trip to Kiev to visit family for the holiday season. The idea behind the holiday party is to engage my students in a volunteer activity that will benefit members of their own community. I’ve got other volunteers committed to helping out with gifts, food, and a performance and we’ve got all major sectors of our community taking responsibily in the event as well. It’s a bit chaotic, but I have faith that eveyone will pull together and make it happen. While I’m on the topic of projects, in repsonse to requests for University advice from my students, I’ve also been working with my Program Manager and other Peace Corps staff and volunteers on compiling a first-even Higher Educaton resource book for Secondary students in Kyrgyzstan. It’s strange how ideas like this just suddenly present themselves. I suppose I had just never considered how students acquire Univerisy information/decide how to apply to University, until my students pointed out that access to this information is limited (ie. no internet access, not all instutites provide advertisement material, no college fairs). After talking with local Peace Corps staff, I found out that the most common way for students to learn about Univerisy is through relatives that recommend certain Universities or through brief newspaper advertisements that Universities publish in the spring. Therefore, in collaboration with Peace Corps colleagues, we are aiming to gather the necessary info from all Higher Education institutes in Kyrgyzstan by January and then we will compile/organize some sort of resource that can be distributed throughout the country to serve in lue of a college counselor.

It’s true, that when you stay in one place long enough, stuff accumulates: projects, paperwork, to do lists, personal belongings, all of it. I’m loving my time in Kyrgyzstan and even when I have a difficult stretch, I work hard to keep perspective. Challenges are innevitable, even if I was back home. Besides, I think challenge is a healthy part of life…it makes our accomplishments meaningful and forces us to always strive towards personal growth.

I had better be on my way; I’ve got some traveling to do and I want to get home before dark (about 6 at night). Thanks to all who have called me/send letters! I really appreciate it! Don’t even think that my lack of communication means that I don’t care, you all mean the world to me. It’s support from family and friends back home who make my Peace Corps service possible!

Oh, and this entry wouldn’t be complete without a shout of praise for our new President, Obama! I couldn’t be prouder to represent America in Kyrgyzstan! I heard the good news on a Russian radio stations in a taxi…it was memorable;) Then we explained that the work “nigger” is an innappropriate way to address the American president to all of my students the next day – most of them didn’t even know it was a derogatory word, yikes!

In case I don’t write before Christmas, HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

ps, pretty sure the word format I used didn't have spell check, so sorry about that;)

This weekend I am back in Karakol, spending some down time with the other area volunteers and making American food. The last time I came, we went on an overnight hiking trip into the mountains, something I had never done before. I looked like an amateaure, using my school backpack as a hiker's bag, but it was one of the most refreshing things I've ever done. It took around 4 hours to make it to the camping site - a few Russian family owned buildings and land - but we were allowed to pitch our tents for free becuase she had a heart for volunteers. Then we soaked in some natural hot springs for a couple hours...it was heavenly! When I got back home, late the next evening, my host mother had recreated the pizza that we had made together the previous week. She is so spot on when it comes to reading my thoughts and my mood.

Anyways, apart from all the holiday breaks and weekend exploration, I swear I do work. I go to school five days a week and team-teach 18 hours of English lessons to students in grades 6-11. I’m not really sure that I feel very effective in this setting yet, because a lot of times I am just observing and then improvising various activities when I’m put on the spot. I need to play a larger role in creating the actual lesson plans, so I can be more prepared….hopefully I can make this happen in the near future.

I’m having a lot more fun with my English Club. I’ve got a dedicated group of 20 or so younger girls who come to the first session and then maybe 10 who come for a more advanced session. I’m scheming ways to get more boys to come, because a lot of activities could be more entertaining with the wild imaginations of young boys. Basically, I just like to have fun with it. Unless students start begging me for grammar charts and written exercises, I plan to keep club pretty informal. I figure it’s about more than perfect English…it’s about building life skills like self-esteem, creativity, healthy relationships, and curiosity. Therefore, one of my bigger plans, is to introduce the concept of Volunteerism to my older group, where we can do more discussion based sessions. I just feel like Kyrgyzstan has such a unique opportunity to make great strides in development over the next couple generations and I want to encourage leadership/humanitarianism/self-empowerment/pride amongst my students, who will play such a crucial role in their country’s future.

I manage to keep everyone amused (including myself) with activities like scavenger hunts, crafts, and show and tell. Probably one of the more amusing things we did, involved building a human pyramid to begin a lesson on nutrition. My girls thought I was absolutely nuts for wanting them to get down on their hands and knees and then climb onto of each other, but they had fun with it. I love challenging students to step outside their comfort levels, probably because it’s secretly nice to be on the other side every now and again. When they asked why I had them do the pyramid, I told them it was the same shape as a food pyramid – aha – a pretty pointless correlation, but it was still worth it. Now I’ve got to start making plans for Halloween. The school director is willing to throw a Halloween party at the school, as a way to share American culture. My job is pretty entertaining.

Now that I’m actually living life as a volunteer, there are lots of things to keep my busy. Send me any questions you have about my job, living situations, the country, the culture, anything at all. Once I get a bit deeper into some projects, I’ll be sure and post that info as well. For now, I’m just living at the mercy of fate, trying my best to tap into the humor, the language, and the new concept of Kyrgyz punctuality.

Here is the link to Dawn’s blogg (she is the new health volunteer in my village, so we know each other pretty well): www.bloggger.life’snewestadventure.com

Peace out!

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…

Tory-Aygyr, plus some

I had wonderful intentions of updating everyone last week – but somewhere between saving a thoughtfully drafted entry to my USB and attempting to open the document at an internet café, my words completely vanished. Now that I have my language proficiency exam tomorrow, procrastination has prompted me to rewrite this post rather than spend time studying. Things have a way of working themselves out…right!?

Starting with the major news, I recently returned from a 5-day overnight at my permanent site (Tory-Aygyr village). It was a refreshing break in routine and most importantly, I felt like things were finally falling into place. Where to start?

My new host family dynamics are wonderful. Aizada Apa (my mother) is the Russian teacher at the school I will be teaching at and Baktibek Ata (my father) is one of the school’s Physical Education teachers. Both are healthy/active people, who have good reason to be proud of their home…especially the apple orchard in their backyard. As for siblings, Daniar (my 17-year-old brother) will be studying in Bishkek during the winter, but I had the chance to meet him before he left. He reminds me of my own brother: a genuine guy of few words; and I sense the potential for a great sense of humor once I become a more familiar face. I hope you’re reading this Chris;) Then there is Dilbar (my 16-year-old sister), who I may very well be teaching in the 11th form. She helped me iron my outfit for the first day of school, so that was nice. I’m looking forward to getting to know her and am hoping that she’ll give me perspective on being a teenager in Kyrgyzstan. The last family member is Almaz (my 10-year-old brother) and we spent a substantial amount of time bonding during my brief visit. He made us Ramen noodles the first day, and retrieved my sandal…which leads me into an interesting little story.

Within the first five minutes at my new house, I excused myself to go use the outhouse. So far, I’ve done my best to be consciously aware of outhouse dangers. However, in one fateful moment, I managed to dropped my left sandal down the hole. After warding off irrational thoughts of rescuing it, I hobbled back to the family and managed the situation with a little self-deprecating humor. Miraculously, Almaz fished out the victim, but I’m afraid it’s one of those things that just isn’t salvageable.

I’m trying to think of the best way to describe my new village. I’ve already mentioned Lake Issyk-Kul, the secret envy of every Volunteer not placed in the Issyk-Kul Oblast. It has a unique effect, because even though it’s set against snow-capped mountains, it’s made of salt water. This means the lake never completely freezes and the bottom is free of slimy weeds. Basically, the water is crystal clear and there are no dangerous sea creatures to zap the lure of swimming all summer long. So, from my front door, the lake sits at about a twenty minute walking distance. Behind the village, I can admire the mountains, which are further away than they appear to be. There are also a lot of donkeys, cows, sheep, free-ranging chickens, and dogs. I think the horses are somewhere in the mountains right now, where they are brought to graze during the summer months. There are fruit trees everywhere (apricots, pears, apples) and it feels like a mini-utopia because you can just pick off a snack as you’re walking down the street. All the apple trees, combined with the cooler air around the lake got me kind of nostalgic for fall in Minnesota. Maybe if I bring caramel apples and bon-fires to Tory-Aygyr, I’ll momentarily loose sense of the distance between the two places.

I also have a better idea of my primary role as a Peace Corps Volunteer, now that I’ve had the opportunity to visit my school and talk with my director and counter-part (the female I will be team-teaching English classes with – Ainagul Eje). Somewhere around 18 hours a week, I will be team-teaching English for the secondary level students. In addition to this, I will incorporate English clubs after school for those who wish to further improve their conversational skills. Since the school year is broken into quarters, I will spend the remainder of the first quarter mainly observing and becoming familiar with my new surroundings. The fact that Ainagul Eje’s speaks wonderful English makes the situation more convenient than most, but I’ve got a lot of Kyrgyz to learn if I want to fully earn the respect of the students and my other colleagues. I plan on starting with names, something I’ve never been that good at, even when it’s something as familiar as “Sarah or John.” Just being able to address someone by name, though, goes a long ways because it shows that you care enough to recognize him or her on a personal level.

From here, there will be a lot of loopholes in my report, because I will basically be learning as I work. Our pre-service training equipped us with a lot of resources and prepped us for likely challenges, but it’s pretty much up to us to carve out our own niche within the community and to achieve our own degree of success at work. For me, I already know, from talking with my school’s director, that incorporating one of their top priorities is learning how to navigate the Internet. They just purchased a wireless box, but asked me questions about the scope of the internet. This is exciting because they already have 12 computers, so now the students have a new educational resource and teachers have a way to seek out future donors/grants. I imagine this project could take some time…teaching how to search with key words, how to distinguish a creditable site, and informing users of the major resources on the web. Here is where I call upon the assistance of whoever is reading this: I will be learning as I teach, so if you have any internet/computer savvy suggestions or recommendations, please send them my way! I don’t have the luxury of dinking around on the internet in my free time, so that makes prep work a bit more difficult. It’s exciting to consider the possibilities that this holds for the school.

On the downside, the presence of a wireless box within the school is no defense against the inevitable power outages this upcoming winter. Electricity (which, powers all running water, light, and heating – a basic fact that is easy to loose site of) is a national crisis and to convey the magnitude of this issue, I could discuss “winter break.” Because no school has the infrastructure/can afford to supply heat during the harshest winter months, nationwide, schools will be closed from sometime around Christmas, through late January (or possibly even later). This is a huge disruption in the educational calendar and the reality of the situation is that all anyone can really do right now is speculate. This break will vary from school to school and my director even told me we may conduct classes from teachers’ homes, if need be. I suppose I’ll just have to wait until the situation presents itself before I can truly tackle it. Right now, though, I’m thinking of creative ways to pass the winter. I’m predicting that I’ll be spending a lot of time in my sleeping bag, huddled up with a booklamp and whatever book I can get my hands on.

From more of a cultural perspective, I also want to share my first day of school experience. In Kyrgyzstan, school begins September 1st, with some sort of ceremonial “First Bell” event. So, I walked the 7 minute route to school with Aizada Apa and got really excited when I saw all the school children – it made all that I had been working towards these past three months a reality. Baktibek Ata had work to do in the field (since it is also harvest season), so he didn’t come to the first few days of school. Come to think of it, neither did my host siblings, which is kind of ironic, considering both their parents are teachers at their school. Attendance is an anomaly in itself here, something I’ll save for a later date. Anyways, I got to see the English classroom and met with all the other teachers for brief introductions. I had a very welcoming experience, which may be accredited to the fact that I am the school’s second teacher volunteer. The students wore black and white uniforms: suits/dress shirts for the boys and skits/dresses for the girls. The white lacy aprons and eccentric bows (typically only on the younger girls) made for some pretty standout outfits. When we all crammed into the auditorium for the “First Bell” ceremony, the fidgety first-year students just made my heart melt. And then something not so cute took place….

My school director invited me to give an introductory speech in the middle on the assembly. Thankfully, I had been warned that this might happen; so, with my host mother’s help, I had prepared a little something in Kyrgyz the previous night. Making my way through the throng of people, I stood in the center of the room and embarked upon the strangest first-impression experience of my life. Immediately after I had addressed the audience with “Welcome parents, teacher, and students,” a huge round of sympathy applause erupted and put my nerves at ease. After the ceremony, I was released from my first day of work. Even though I observed two classes the next day and got a thorough tour of the school, I still don’t really know much about the typical schedule. I can guarantee, though, that my work environment is ripe for amusing stories.

As for interaction with other volunteers, I actually have a site partner. Her name is Dawn and she will be working with the Village Health Committee. There is much potential for project collaboration, especially since the school is interested in incorporating a health curriculum in the near future. We will be working out possible approaches together and it’s always nice to have someone to speak English with when you get worn down. The closest city is Balikchey, which is about a 20 minute taxi ride away. There, we met two current volunteers who gave us a tour of the city, along with the three other new volunteers in Balikchey. The group dynamic feels healthy and travel beyond this cluster is definitely feasible, especially during the summer months. The last thing to mention about my site visit, is the fact that I am serving as the replacement for a male volunteer who finished his service this summer. I had the opportunity to meet with him and he passed on a wealth of information, advice, and resources. This puts me in a very fortunate position, because I will be building upon the things he has already established. For instance, he assisted the school in acquiring some of it’s newer technology resources and now it is my job to teach everyone how to utilize it. He also broke down some negative American stereotypes and, even though we will inevitably be compared to this successful volunteer who left on such a high note, people seem excited to work with us. Complete language submersion, lesson plans, English clubs, learning to cook, winter survival….I am entering a whirlwind of events.

I apologize if you eyes are beginning to burn from staring at the computer screen for so long, but I’ve got some more recent news to add. FYI, I just got wind of an amazing communication option. If you search for Megacom.kg and select the SMS option, you can send free text messages to my cell phone in Kyrgyzstan. I haven’t browed the site myself, but I’ve been told that it works well and all you have to do is enter 996 550 458144(my cell number) and type a message to be sent. Conversely, it’s not cheap for me to send text replies, but I’d love to receive little messages when you are bored at work;)

Roughly three months in-country, and I finally braved cooking on my own. Of course, I chose to make chocolate chip cookies, drawing inspiration from my own cravings and the fact that my five-year-old brother wants to be a pastry chef when he grows up. Together, we mixed the batter and I had some serious doubts about the improvisations that I was making (ie. casually substituting the generic yellow oil for butter and nixing the vanilla and brown sugar all together). My Eje kind of took over when it came time to bake them…because she insisted they brown one the bottom AND the top, just like the bread she makes. I thought they turned out pretty good – it probably helped that we ate them all while they were still hot;) I think I’m ready to take another cooking venture, even though I realize that every time I tamper in the kitchen, I risk the possibility of losing all credibility as a female. It kind of makes it exciting that way, aha.

There is also a new addition to our family. When I went to a track-and-field event, organized by some volunteers in a neighboring village, we found a stray puppy that had to have been no more than 4 weeks old. I had told myself that I wouldn’t open that can of worms (worrying about the stray animals that dominate the streets here), but by some unanimous decision, I was chosen as the pup’s new care-taker. I called my host grandmother on the phone and asked her if she wanted a new puppy and all I could make out was “Jakshee, Jakshee” or “Good, Good” and then a boisterous laugh before the connection died. For the sake of clarification, I asked a native speaker to call back and confirm. So, I brought the mutt home and they named him “Macho” as in “Macho, Macho Man. I want to be….” I consider Macho my first success story because now he gorges on milk and runs around with my younger brother, who has claimed ownership.

Last note: I received my second package from mom about a month and a half after she sent it and it was pilfered, again. Bummer. The strange thing is, only two select items were taken and they happen to be the exact two items that didn’t survive the trip last time – a Nalgene and sweat pants. So strange. I’m hoping my new address will be more reliable, but it is best to use an entire roll of duck tape on the package so that the box has to be torn apart in order for its contents to be reached. This shenanigans is getting real old, real fast.

In case I haven’t told you in awhile…I love and miss you all!
Enjoy the photos!