Thursday, August 30, 2007
Wednesday, August 29, 2007
A few days...
A few Days…
August 24, 2007
This afternoon, after language class, after lunch, after SOCD Practicum Week 1 De-briefing, after a village group meeting, after receiving my first package in the mail and discovering its contents had been rifled through, I went to fill up two buckets of water for my family. When I got to the water spigot it was just trickling out. I put my first bucket under and decided to make friends with the fat old Turkish lady selling watermelons and tomatoes on the corner. After introducing myself and asking about her products I asked her name and pointed to my house across the street. She said she already knew that I lived there. After talking for five minutes I noticed the water had stopped running altogether. I asked her what was wrong with it and she handed me a tomato and said, “Eat, eat. Don’t bother with water, later it will work.” (At least that’s what I think she said.)
I was so excited today when our Program Manager came for our meeting and handed me my first parcel of mail! I ripped it open and inside was a beautiful sticker picture from Nathan with a note from Carolyn on the back. She sent a book – “Three Junes” – for me; which I have not read yet but heard was good. And also “Make Way for Ducklings” and another kids book and stickers for my youngest host sister. The note and the customs declaration said that 5 scarves were included in the package, but they were not inside when the package got to me. Apparently this happens regularly. It’s a good example of the corruption here.
On Monday I will go to the post office and see if they can do anything. I’m sorry Carolyn! It was so nice of you to send these gifts. I feel badly that you spent the money and energy to send them and half didn’t arrive. I explained what happened to my family and they were very appreciative of your thoughtfulness. The whole family took turns looking at the books and even the older sisters were interested in reading them to practice their English skills.
I hung Nate’s picture on my wall. It makes me happy and sad at the same time to look at it. I felt homesick for the first time today when I saw it. A small part of me feels guilty for being here and not home, with Nathan, during these two years of his life. I have to keep telling myself that he won’t forget me and I can make this experience educational for him too by writing letters and sending him stories. I also have to remind myself that when he’s older he’ll probably think that what I did was cool, and he won’t be mad at me for missing his 4th and 5th birthdays and Christmases.
I’ve been here for just about 2 months already. Some days have been really hard. Others have been amazing. On not-so-good days I feel frustrated with the language, hard on myself that I’m not learning more or learning faster, and exhausted. I haven’t had any breakdowns yet, but I’ve had a couple nights where I’ve gone to my room shortly after dinner and lost myself in books and music. I suppose that’s a healthy way to deal with stress. Writing helps too.
This last week has been especially difficult because every morning we have language class for 3 hours then go home for a quick lunch, then travel into the city for our practicum. Next week is the same schedule. Talking to the country director today she said that if we can get through this, (meaning PST) we can get through anything. It hasn’t been bad – I don’t want to cause any worry – it has just been really busy. We calculated the hours per week we spend on PC related activities is about 60. This weekend for instance, we have 4 hours of language on Saturday, and then spend 8am-6pm on Sunday in the capital with current volunteers. I’m craving sleeping in past 7.
But, on good days, fat old Turkish ladies give me tomatoes on the street corner, I remember how lucky I am to be here doing this, I have incredible moments of bonding with my host sisters and mother, and I laugh a lot with my fellow trainees. This afternoon when Cameron and I were walking home from class together we saw the cutest puppy in a yard we walked by. Then, near the intersection where we part ways, a motorcycle with a sidecar sped by – the sidecar was piled 6 feet high with some kind of green grass or straw and we couldn’t see the driver. It looked like a huge pile of weeds driving by. It was so funny we had to stop walking, tears were streaming down both of our faces and Cameron lost his breath, while I stumbled over my bike and collapsed on the cement. It is still small things like that – which are so typical here that I take for granted sometimes, but are really quite inspiring and instigate much needed comic relief.
I love walking to class sometimes because I get to see so much that is every-day here, but stuff I’d never see at home. For example, donkey’s pulling carts of families, a teeny soviet car literally stuffed with watermelons, groups of Kyrgyz men squatting and wearing their traditional felt hats. I get to walk by cows, sheep, goats, chickens, and children playing in roadside streams. My neighbor kids always greet me with big smiles and say hi. Sometimes I give them high fives or stop to play with them for a few minutes.
On days when I feel confident about my language learning progress, when I converse with locals, or successfully bargain at the bazaar I’m really happy here. I feel empowered and driven and motivated to integrate, to learn, and to do well. My host family has been really supportive and interested in what I’m doing and learning, but they’ve also been really good about giving me my space and alone time.
The other day my sisters and mother went back-to-school shopping and when they got home were really excited to model everything for me. After they were finished my host mom took out this ancient teal green fur coat that she loves and modeled it for me, throwing it over her housedress, strutting back and forth across the room. Then she made me try on Asela’s new clothes to find out what size I am. I mimicked her strut and we all had a good laugh. Eliza, the 3 year old, came running into the room to see what we were doing and she slipped and slid on the rug. Although she was instantly in tears my host mom was desperately trying to conceal her laughter because it was really funny how far she flew. When she couldn’t, she exploded and Asela, Tina, and I couldn’t stop laughing at her, while tiny Eliza remained on the floor pouting, but not really hurt.
Our Friday Night Game Night was supposed to be at my house tonight, but because of the weird scheduling this week, we pushed it back to tomorrow night. It should be fun. I invited our language teacher who’s 23 and the country director, plus the other 9 volunteers from this village. Last week at Meg and Theo’s we made cocktails and played this game where one person leaves the room while the rest decide on a common problem, then the person returns and by asking questions tries to figure out our problem. With Karen guessing, the rest of us acted like a bunch of unruly children. Our problem was that we all thought we were children. It was so funny, and after Tracey and I had given each other “I heart JTT (Jonathan Taylor Thomas)” tattoos with sharpies, and the rest of the bunch acting in total chaos, Karen gave up and said angrily, “I quit! You’re all being children!”
August 26, 2007
Game night last night was a success! All 10 volunteers plus our 2 LCF’s gathered in my living room and we amused ourselves for 4 hours with games such as Mafia, Psychologist, and Catch Phrase. Everyone brought chips, chocolate, juice, or vodka. The chips here are interesting. We tried chicken flavored, shish-kabob, and cheese last night along with pineapple, cherry, and peach juice.
I think our language teachers really had a good time. Mostly they probably just enjoyed getting out of their host family’s houses and seeing what we all do when we’re not in class or studying. Both of our language teachers are young and are married with very young children that they don’t get to see very often, or at all, during these three months of Pre-Service Training when they are working for the PC. During the school year they are both teachers back in their hometowns of Osh and Bishkek.
Nicole’s 22-year-old host sister, who just returned from Moscow, also joined our party. She was really cool and spoke English very well.
Today we spent the day in Bishkek. 19 of us went. (Did I mention we lost another trainee last week? Sorry Random) 10 current volunteers met us at the PC headquarters and we split into small groups. The headquarters office was super nice. There was a guard outside and we had to sign in. The yard between the entrance and the building was articulately landscaped with beautiful flowers. It’s a one-story building for the medical, financial, Country Director, and other offices, and then behind the main building is a smaller PCV Resource Building. Inside are computers and a wonderful library of books – technical and leisure. As trainees we are not yet allowed to use the computers or borrow tech books, but I got to take a few novels: “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter” by, Kim Edwards and, “Vanishing Acts” by Jodi Picoult. I’m having such a blast reading non-school-related books because I haven’t had the opportunity to do so in such a long time. It’s fantastic! (If you ever want to send books, I love contemporary fiction stuff/ Oprah’s Book Club. Some of my favorite authors are Anita Shreve, Jodi Picoult, and Toni Morrison – but I love reading new authors too!)
Anyways, yeah, Bishkek was fun today. We went to this amazing Lebanese restaurant for lunch. For 390 soms 3 of us split this 7-course sampler – including salad, olives and pickles, hummus and tahini, naan, falafel, somosa-like filled pastries, a potato dish, and other deliciousness. It was filling but felt really healthy – a refreshing change.
Later we stopped in the center to watch the changing of the guards near the “white-house” parliament building, watch a go-kart exhibition, buy kiwi ice cream, and check out some sculptures in a garden. We also wandered through a 3 story “Beta Store” to buy face wash, bread, minutes for our cell phones, pastries, bottled water, coke, vitamins, and other miscellaneous items. Also in the same building was an Internet café that we patroned for a while.
Oh we also got to check out one of the volunteer’s apartments in the city. The outside of the building was a little sketchy, but inside was decent and roomy – equipped with 3 beds, 2 couches, and a fridge.
I realized I didn’t label any of the pictures I posted last. So Sorry! They were from, as you can probably guess, the Cultural Event Day, a Turkish Wedding, my fellow trainees and family.
August 28, 2007
So the past 2 days have been spent in Bishkek, with current volunteers, seeing what their NGOs are like and how they are working. It has been interesting, and fun to go into the city. The biggest perk for me was the opportunity to eat at a café or restaurant in the city. However, the restaurants today and yesterday were a bit disappointing. Yesterday we ate in a Turkish restaurant. There were 2 items on the menu: beef and chicken kabobs. I got the chicken and it wasn’t bad, but I was craving pizza and had been expecting a slightly more “American” lunch (I feel slightly guilty admitting this).
So as you can imagine, when our host volunteer took us to the “Pizza Inn” today I was ecstatic. When I opened the Pakistani menu I was overwhelmed with choices such as kiwi pizza, a pea/mushroom/kielbasa pizza, chicken legs, filet-o-fish, etc. The picture-book menu advertised such pretty milkshakes that we all went for it. It was unfortunate that we all spent a lot of money (relatively) on food that looked and tasted poorly, and we all had stomach aches after.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s lunch, though I should have probably learned my lesson by now, and should lower my expectations. Our program manager is taking us to the “Golf Club” just outside of the city. She said she recently went for her birthday and she thinks we’ll all enjoy their fabulous hamburgers. Yay.
Ohhh So for all of you who are thinking/ considering making the trek out here to visit, we checked out 3 hotels between yesterday and today. The Hyatt Hotel is located in the heart of the city. They provide shuttle transportation from the airport. The grounds and building are beautiful! It’s definitely a 5 star hotel, fully loaded with a pool and spa, restaurant, bar, cocktail lounge, Kyrgyz gift shop, etc. It’s pricey though; rooms start at $275. Yikes, I know. Breakfast is an extra $10 per person. (We snuck in to use the restrooms, which were amazing! Actual white porcelain toilets that flush, white fluffy toilet paper – it was heaven.)
The Ak Keme Hotel is on the outskirts of the city. It’s probably a 4 star hotel. The grounds and building were also very nice. It’s closer to the mountains so the view is much better. The indoor/ outdoor pools were immaculate. The rates were much more reasonable: $130 for a single, $180 for a double, $210 for a suite. Children under 6 stay free (hint, hint). Brunch included. Very western, English speaking staff, accepts all major credit cards. Gift shop, restaurant, bar, spa, laundry service. Not sure about shuttle service. There are Yurts in gardens outside that you can sit in and drink tea.
The third place we checked out was this cozy hostel-like inn called the Hotel Alpinist. It was also located right downtown. The staff was very friendly and welcoming and lets us check out some rooms. Breakfast, cable, Internet, is all included. Single rooms are only $39 a night! Doubles are $65. This place had really cool photos of Kyrgyz people and places on the hallway walls.
All three of the hotels have websites, so if you’re thinking about it check them out:
www.AkKemehotel.com
www.alpinisthotel.centralasia.kg
Also, once I’m settled people are more then welcome to come visit and stay with me. My goal is to have my own apartment by January, unless I absolutely love my new host family. We are required to live with a host family for the first three months as Peace Corps Volunteers.
August 24, 2007
This afternoon, after language class, after lunch, after SOCD Practicum Week 1 De-briefing, after a village group meeting, after receiving my first package in the mail and discovering its contents had been rifled through, I went to fill up two buckets of water for my family. When I got to the water spigot it was just trickling out. I put my first bucket under and decided to make friends with the fat old Turkish lady selling watermelons and tomatoes on the corner. After introducing myself and asking about her products I asked her name and pointed to my house across the street. She said she already knew that I lived there. After talking for five minutes I noticed the water had stopped running altogether. I asked her what was wrong with it and she handed me a tomato and said, “Eat, eat. Don’t bother with water, later it will work.” (At least that’s what I think she said.)
I was so excited today when our Program Manager came for our meeting and handed me my first parcel of mail! I ripped it open and inside was a beautiful sticker picture from Nathan with a note from Carolyn on the back. She sent a book – “Three Junes” – for me; which I have not read yet but heard was good. And also “Make Way for Ducklings” and another kids book and stickers for my youngest host sister. The note and the customs declaration said that 5 scarves were included in the package, but they were not inside when the package got to me. Apparently this happens regularly. It’s a good example of the corruption here.
On Monday I will go to the post office and see if they can do anything. I’m sorry Carolyn! It was so nice of you to send these gifts. I feel badly that you spent the money and energy to send them and half didn’t arrive. I explained what happened to my family and they were very appreciative of your thoughtfulness. The whole family took turns looking at the books and even the older sisters were interested in reading them to practice their English skills.
I hung Nate’s picture on my wall. It makes me happy and sad at the same time to look at it. I felt homesick for the first time today when I saw it. A small part of me feels guilty for being here and not home, with Nathan, during these two years of his life. I have to keep telling myself that he won’t forget me and I can make this experience educational for him too by writing letters and sending him stories. I also have to remind myself that when he’s older he’ll probably think that what I did was cool, and he won’t be mad at me for missing his 4th and 5th birthdays and Christmases.
I’ve been here for just about 2 months already. Some days have been really hard. Others have been amazing. On not-so-good days I feel frustrated with the language, hard on myself that I’m not learning more or learning faster, and exhausted. I haven’t had any breakdowns yet, but I’ve had a couple nights where I’ve gone to my room shortly after dinner and lost myself in books and music. I suppose that’s a healthy way to deal with stress. Writing helps too.
This last week has been especially difficult because every morning we have language class for 3 hours then go home for a quick lunch, then travel into the city for our practicum. Next week is the same schedule. Talking to the country director today she said that if we can get through this, (meaning PST) we can get through anything. It hasn’t been bad – I don’t want to cause any worry – it has just been really busy. We calculated the hours per week we spend on PC related activities is about 60. This weekend for instance, we have 4 hours of language on Saturday, and then spend 8am-6pm on Sunday in the capital with current volunteers. I’m craving sleeping in past 7.
But, on good days, fat old Turkish ladies give me tomatoes on the street corner, I remember how lucky I am to be here doing this, I have incredible moments of bonding with my host sisters and mother, and I laugh a lot with my fellow trainees. This afternoon when Cameron and I were walking home from class together we saw the cutest puppy in a yard we walked by. Then, near the intersection where we part ways, a motorcycle with a sidecar sped by – the sidecar was piled 6 feet high with some kind of green grass or straw and we couldn’t see the driver. It looked like a huge pile of weeds driving by. It was so funny we had to stop walking, tears were streaming down both of our faces and Cameron lost his breath, while I stumbled over my bike and collapsed on the cement. It is still small things like that – which are so typical here that I take for granted sometimes, but are really quite inspiring and instigate much needed comic relief.
I love walking to class sometimes because I get to see so much that is every-day here, but stuff I’d never see at home. For example, donkey’s pulling carts of families, a teeny soviet car literally stuffed with watermelons, groups of Kyrgyz men squatting and wearing their traditional felt hats. I get to walk by cows, sheep, goats, chickens, and children playing in roadside streams. My neighbor kids always greet me with big smiles and say hi. Sometimes I give them high fives or stop to play with them for a few minutes.
On days when I feel confident about my language learning progress, when I converse with locals, or successfully bargain at the bazaar I’m really happy here. I feel empowered and driven and motivated to integrate, to learn, and to do well. My host family has been really supportive and interested in what I’m doing and learning, but they’ve also been really good about giving me my space and alone time.
The other day my sisters and mother went back-to-school shopping and when they got home were really excited to model everything for me. After they were finished my host mom took out this ancient teal green fur coat that she loves and modeled it for me, throwing it over her housedress, strutting back and forth across the room. Then she made me try on Asela’s new clothes to find out what size I am. I mimicked her strut and we all had a good laugh. Eliza, the 3 year old, came running into the room to see what we were doing and she slipped and slid on the rug. Although she was instantly in tears my host mom was desperately trying to conceal her laughter because it was really funny how far she flew. When she couldn’t, she exploded and Asela, Tina, and I couldn’t stop laughing at her, while tiny Eliza remained on the floor pouting, but not really hurt.
Our Friday Night Game Night was supposed to be at my house tonight, but because of the weird scheduling this week, we pushed it back to tomorrow night. It should be fun. I invited our language teacher who’s 23 and the country director, plus the other 9 volunteers from this village. Last week at Meg and Theo’s we made cocktails and played this game where one person leaves the room while the rest decide on a common problem, then the person returns and by asking questions tries to figure out our problem. With Karen guessing, the rest of us acted like a bunch of unruly children. Our problem was that we all thought we were children. It was so funny, and after Tracey and I had given each other “I heart JTT (Jonathan Taylor Thomas)” tattoos with sharpies, and the rest of the bunch acting in total chaos, Karen gave up and said angrily, “I quit! You’re all being children!”
August 26, 2007
Game night last night was a success! All 10 volunteers plus our 2 LCF’s gathered in my living room and we amused ourselves for 4 hours with games such as Mafia, Psychologist, and Catch Phrase. Everyone brought chips, chocolate, juice, or vodka. The chips here are interesting. We tried chicken flavored, shish-kabob, and cheese last night along with pineapple, cherry, and peach juice.
I think our language teachers really had a good time. Mostly they probably just enjoyed getting out of their host family’s houses and seeing what we all do when we’re not in class or studying. Both of our language teachers are young and are married with very young children that they don’t get to see very often, or at all, during these three months of Pre-Service Training when they are working for the PC. During the school year they are both teachers back in their hometowns of Osh and Bishkek.
Nicole’s 22-year-old host sister, who just returned from Moscow, also joined our party. She was really cool and spoke English very well.
Today we spent the day in Bishkek. 19 of us went. (Did I mention we lost another trainee last week? Sorry Random) 10 current volunteers met us at the PC headquarters and we split into small groups. The headquarters office was super nice. There was a guard outside and we had to sign in. The yard between the entrance and the building was articulately landscaped with beautiful flowers. It’s a one-story building for the medical, financial, Country Director, and other offices, and then behind the main building is a smaller PCV Resource Building. Inside are computers and a wonderful library of books – technical and leisure. As trainees we are not yet allowed to use the computers or borrow tech books, but I got to take a few novels: “The Memory Keeper’s Daughter” by, Kim Edwards and, “Vanishing Acts” by Jodi Picoult. I’m having such a blast reading non-school-related books because I haven’t had the opportunity to do so in such a long time. It’s fantastic! (If you ever want to send books, I love contemporary fiction stuff/ Oprah’s Book Club. Some of my favorite authors are Anita Shreve, Jodi Picoult, and Toni Morrison – but I love reading new authors too!)
Anyways, yeah, Bishkek was fun today. We went to this amazing Lebanese restaurant for lunch. For 390 soms 3 of us split this 7-course sampler – including salad, olives and pickles, hummus and tahini, naan, falafel, somosa-like filled pastries, a potato dish, and other deliciousness. It was filling but felt really healthy – a refreshing change.
Later we stopped in the center to watch the changing of the guards near the “white-house” parliament building, watch a go-kart exhibition, buy kiwi ice cream, and check out some sculptures in a garden. We also wandered through a 3 story “Beta Store” to buy face wash, bread, minutes for our cell phones, pastries, bottled water, coke, vitamins, and other miscellaneous items. Also in the same building was an Internet café that we patroned for a while.
Oh we also got to check out one of the volunteer’s apartments in the city. The outside of the building was a little sketchy, but inside was decent and roomy – equipped with 3 beds, 2 couches, and a fridge.
I realized I didn’t label any of the pictures I posted last. So Sorry! They were from, as you can probably guess, the Cultural Event Day, a Turkish Wedding, my fellow trainees and family.
August 28, 2007
So the past 2 days have been spent in Bishkek, with current volunteers, seeing what their NGOs are like and how they are working. It has been interesting, and fun to go into the city. The biggest perk for me was the opportunity to eat at a café or restaurant in the city. However, the restaurants today and yesterday were a bit disappointing. Yesterday we ate in a Turkish restaurant. There were 2 items on the menu: beef and chicken kabobs. I got the chicken and it wasn’t bad, but I was craving pizza and had been expecting a slightly more “American” lunch (I feel slightly guilty admitting this).
So as you can imagine, when our host volunteer took us to the “Pizza Inn” today I was ecstatic. When I opened the Pakistani menu I was overwhelmed with choices such as kiwi pizza, a pea/mushroom/kielbasa pizza, chicken legs, filet-o-fish, etc. The picture-book menu advertised such pretty milkshakes that we all went for it. It was unfortunate that we all spent a lot of money (relatively) on food that looked and tasted poorly, and we all had stomach aches after.
I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s lunch, though I should have probably learned my lesson by now, and should lower my expectations. Our program manager is taking us to the “Golf Club” just outside of the city. She said she recently went for her birthday and she thinks we’ll all enjoy their fabulous hamburgers. Yay.
Ohhh So for all of you who are thinking/ considering making the trek out here to visit, we checked out 3 hotels between yesterday and today. The Hyatt Hotel is located in the heart of the city. They provide shuttle transportation from the airport. The grounds and building are beautiful! It’s definitely a 5 star hotel, fully loaded with a pool and spa, restaurant, bar, cocktail lounge, Kyrgyz gift shop, etc. It’s pricey though; rooms start at $275. Yikes, I know. Breakfast is an extra $10 per person. (We snuck in to use the restrooms, which were amazing! Actual white porcelain toilets that flush, white fluffy toilet paper – it was heaven.)
The Ak Keme Hotel is on the outskirts of the city. It’s probably a 4 star hotel. The grounds and building were also very nice. It’s closer to the mountains so the view is much better. The indoor/ outdoor pools were immaculate. The rates were much more reasonable: $130 for a single, $180 for a double, $210 for a suite. Children under 6 stay free (hint, hint). Brunch included. Very western, English speaking staff, accepts all major credit cards. Gift shop, restaurant, bar, spa, laundry service. Not sure about shuttle service. There are Yurts in gardens outside that you can sit in and drink tea.
The third place we checked out was this cozy hostel-like inn called the Hotel Alpinist. It was also located right downtown. The staff was very friendly and welcoming and lets us check out some rooms. Breakfast, cable, Internet, is all included. Single rooms are only $39 a night! Doubles are $65. This place had really cool photos of Kyrgyz people and places on the hallway walls.
All three of the hotels have websites, so if you’re thinking about it check them out:
www.AkKemehotel.com
www.alpinisthotel.centralasia.kg
Also, once I’m settled people are more then welcome to come visit and stay with me. My goal is to have my own apartment by January, unless I absolutely love my new host family. We are required to live with a host family for the first three months as Peace Corps Volunteers.
Sunday, August 26, 2007
A week in the life of a PC Trainee...
August 21, 2007
It seems like it has been a while since I’ve written. I’ve begun to feel stressed about my masters- or more precisely, my thesis. Frankly, I’m scared. Scared I will get placed in an NGO that has nothing to do with what I want to research, and scared that my Internet access will be as it is now – sparse and expensive. However, I’ve met a current volunteer who is a K-13 (I’m K-15) and hasn’t started his thesis. I do not want to be him.
On a more positive note, I’ve gotten really close with my 2 oldest host sisters. They are 13 and 15 and every night we watch a soap opera, called “Tanya,” that is on TV and we talk about the main characters. Today when I got home from school/ my practicum we talked for an hour about tattoos and body piercing and compared prices and our fathers’ reactions. It was pretty funny.
On Sunday, the volunteers in my village and I decided it would be a nice idea to cook a diner for our host mothers. So, early Sunday morning we ventured out to a neighboring village that is famous for their huge bazaar. We paired up to buy ingredients and make dishes. Nicole and I decided, since we are not very good cooks, to make pizza (which we thought would be simple and easy).
The bazaar turned out to be a gigantic zoo – packed with people and vendors and products. Sheep heads piled in wheelbarrows and men pushing old-school baby carriages filled with fresh loaves of bread were common among the plethora of produce and household-goods vendors. Candy, cookies, nuts, coffee, tea, and such are all sold by the kilogram. Tomato paste was hard to find. And we ended up buying bread for the pizza dough.
The party was a lot more work for us, and for Tracey and Adams’ parents (whose house the party was at) than we had expected. Adam and Tracey made an oriental salad with cabbage, carrots, ramen noodles, and almonds. Nicole and I made 8 pizzas with pepper, eggplant, onion, and basil toppings, Karen made an Indian soup, Cameron made no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies, Meg made thank-you place cards for the mothers, Brian made stuffed peppers, and Theo made BBQ chicken. The most hilarious part was that Theo didn’t realize that the vinegar here is 80% concentrated. So instead of diluting the vinegar like he should have, he used an entire bottle on one chicken. At first the mothers pretended they liked it, but by their second bites, eyes watering profusely, they couldn’t help but comment. One mother threw her chicken leg to the dog and even he wouldn’t eat it. Then, because toasting is customary, one mother began, “We’ll never forget this dinner…and the lots of vinegar…” It was priceless.
My mother, unfortunately, didn’t come to the dinner because she had a family thing to go to. But I brought home some leftover pizza and it was gone by the morning.
Last week Brian’s mother sent him a huge package and he brought it to language class to open. Inside there were presents for us all and it felt very much like Christmas. I got a box of cheese-its and Frank’s Hot Sauce. Meg got Peppermint patties and Cameron got Crystal Light. It was so funny to see how happy we all got over little things. I shared my Cheese-its but brought my hot sauce home. My host mom and dad love it! At every meal they take it out and put it on everything. Already the bottle is half gone. But I’m more than happy to introduce Frank’s to the people of Kyrgyzstan. That has been my greatest contribution thus far!
Today, during language class we had a practice language exam. One of the PST managers came to test us. In class, at home, and in my community, at the bazaar, and in the stores, I have been feeling confident with my language skills. Today, for some reason, I felt like I totally failed the exam. I scored Intermediate-mid – the same as everyone else in my group, but felt really disappointed afterwards. The PC tester told me I have 3 weeks to improve my grammar and sentence structure, while he told everyone else they were doing well. The PC tester is Russian, and although he is a really nice guy, speaks really fast and really softly. I can barely understand him when he speaks in English. So needless to say, I was in a really bad mood all day. I hate doing poorly on things, especially when beforehand I feel prepared.
After we finished for the day today around 5, we found a really nice restaurant and splurged on 40 som Baltika beers. It was bout a dollar each – or – one day’s salary. But worth every drop.
Tomorrow we are visiting an NGO that helps street children and pensioners. We met with them today to learn their history and such. The director is friends with the Kyrgyz ambassador to the United States. She is 70 but very spunky.
Next week we’ll spend some time in the capital with current volunteers at the NGO’s they are working with, which should be really fun and interesting. Also, at the end of next week, we’ll find out or permanent site placements. I’m anxious and excited to see where I’ll end up, and which NGO I’ll be working with.
It seems like it has been a while since I’ve written. I’ve begun to feel stressed about my masters- or more precisely, my thesis. Frankly, I’m scared. Scared I will get placed in an NGO that has nothing to do with what I want to research, and scared that my Internet access will be as it is now – sparse and expensive. However, I’ve met a current volunteer who is a K-13 (I’m K-15) and hasn’t started his thesis. I do not want to be him.
On a more positive note, I’ve gotten really close with my 2 oldest host sisters. They are 13 and 15 and every night we watch a soap opera, called “Tanya,” that is on TV and we talk about the main characters. Today when I got home from school/ my practicum we talked for an hour about tattoos and body piercing and compared prices and our fathers’ reactions. It was pretty funny.
On Sunday, the volunteers in my village and I decided it would be a nice idea to cook a diner for our host mothers. So, early Sunday morning we ventured out to a neighboring village that is famous for their huge bazaar. We paired up to buy ingredients and make dishes. Nicole and I decided, since we are not very good cooks, to make pizza (which we thought would be simple and easy).
The bazaar turned out to be a gigantic zoo – packed with people and vendors and products. Sheep heads piled in wheelbarrows and men pushing old-school baby carriages filled with fresh loaves of bread were common among the plethora of produce and household-goods vendors. Candy, cookies, nuts, coffee, tea, and such are all sold by the kilogram. Tomato paste was hard to find. And we ended up buying bread for the pizza dough.
The party was a lot more work for us, and for Tracey and Adams’ parents (whose house the party was at) than we had expected. Adam and Tracey made an oriental salad with cabbage, carrots, ramen noodles, and almonds. Nicole and I made 8 pizzas with pepper, eggplant, onion, and basil toppings, Karen made an Indian soup, Cameron made no-bake chocolate oatmeal cookies, Meg made thank-you place cards for the mothers, Brian made stuffed peppers, and Theo made BBQ chicken. The most hilarious part was that Theo didn’t realize that the vinegar here is 80% concentrated. So instead of diluting the vinegar like he should have, he used an entire bottle on one chicken. At first the mothers pretended they liked it, but by their second bites, eyes watering profusely, they couldn’t help but comment. One mother threw her chicken leg to the dog and even he wouldn’t eat it. Then, because toasting is customary, one mother began, “We’ll never forget this dinner…and the lots of vinegar…” It was priceless.
My mother, unfortunately, didn’t come to the dinner because she had a family thing to go to. But I brought home some leftover pizza and it was gone by the morning.
Last week Brian’s mother sent him a huge package and he brought it to language class to open. Inside there were presents for us all and it felt very much like Christmas. I got a box of cheese-its and Frank’s Hot Sauce. Meg got Peppermint patties and Cameron got Crystal Light. It was so funny to see how happy we all got over little things. I shared my Cheese-its but brought my hot sauce home. My host mom and dad love it! At every meal they take it out and put it on everything. Already the bottle is half gone. But I’m more than happy to introduce Frank’s to the people of Kyrgyzstan. That has been my greatest contribution thus far!
Today, during language class we had a practice language exam. One of the PST managers came to test us. In class, at home, and in my community, at the bazaar, and in the stores, I have been feeling confident with my language skills. Today, for some reason, I felt like I totally failed the exam. I scored Intermediate-mid – the same as everyone else in my group, but felt really disappointed afterwards. The PC tester told me I have 3 weeks to improve my grammar and sentence structure, while he told everyone else they were doing well. The PC tester is Russian, and although he is a really nice guy, speaks really fast and really softly. I can barely understand him when he speaks in English. So needless to say, I was in a really bad mood all day. I hate doing poorly on things, especially when beforehand I feel prepared.
After we finished for the day today around 5, we found a really nice restaurant and splurged on 40 som Baltika beers. It was bout a dollar each – or – one day’s salary. But worth every drop.
Tomorrow we are visiting an NGO that helps street children and pensioners. We met with them today to learn their history and such. The director is friends with the Kyrgyz ambassador to the United States. She is 70 but very spunky.
Next week we’ll spend some time in the capital with current volunteers at the NGO’s they are working with, which should be really fun and interesting. Also, at the end of next week, we’ll find out or permanent site placements. I’m anxious and excited to see where I’ll end up, and which NGO I’ll be working with.
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Holy Chong!
August 10, 2007
I was in my room, gathering up my towel and shampoo this evening for my shower and as I was turning to leave something on the wall next to my bed caught my eye. There, a foot above my bed was the biggest, hairiest spider I have ever seen in my life. In a flash, eyes bulging, heart pounding, I ran for my host sister. When she came, confused at first, she too gasped with surprise at its monstrosity. We both agreed it was “chong!” which in Kyrgyz means very large. From the hallway I watched her, rolled newspaper as a bludgeon, swat the thing from the wall onto my bed, where she then preceded to wack it some more, check to see if it was still alive, and scoop and squish it with the paper – leaving a brownish residue on my sheet.
While showering I was thinking about how everyone on average eats eight spiders in their lifetime, and I wondered, do PCVs eat double? I’m afraid to sleep now.
Another two volunteers went home this week, not on account of spiders. I think sometimes, people just realize that this isn’t what they were expecting, or they don’t think it’s the right fit for them. To leave for that reason, I believe, it’s better to figure it out earlier on. I believe I’m very fortunate that I feel this is where I’m supposed to be right now.
I spoke with the country director yesterday about human trafficking, which – like everywhere else in the world, is a problem here. She explained to me the anti-trafficking efforts in Kyrgyzstan, and assured me that I would most likely be able to work with an NGO or regional network on the issue – for my secondary project, if not my first. I’m also looking forward to meeting her daughter who is coming to visit. She works for a major international NGO to monitor and combat trafficking in persons.
August 12, 2007
This weekend I went to the mountains for the first time in Kyrgyzstan. Though I see them everyday – from my house, while walking, from the marshutka – I finally got a chance to actually be in the mountains. In less than an hour’s drive we were far into the foothills of the mountains to the south. The bumpy road ran alongside a rushing river that grew wider the farther up we got. As the river got wider the houses got more and more sparse. In between fits of plains, horses, sheep, cowboys and their dogs roamed. Wheat and corn grew in vast slope-side fields. Goats so high up cliff-side I could picture them tumbling off with one wrong step. Along the side of the road, old women in floral headscarves and young children in bare feet sold raspberries, milk, honey.
Our destination was a popular tourist spot: hot springs. We parked, then hiked up to a strangely crowded fenced-in area. After paying a small fee we were admitted. One large blue concrete empty pool, and one small pool packed with people – enjoying the hot natural mountain water.
A paved bench-lined walkway led to a park with fountains, a few animal sculptures, and a hospital. There were also apartments and a mosque, both of which seemed out-of-place. My host mother explained to me that people come to this spot when they are sick because the hot springs have healing powers. They come to drink it and bath in it at its source.
In the park a large crowd gathered around a baby’s circumcision celebration.
On our way home we picnicked by the water, cool, as daunting rain clouds held between peaks. We ate cake three times for Asela’s fifteenth birthday.
August 15, 2007
This morning we got to visit the orphanage in our village. I knew that there was one here, but I had no idea that it was so close or so big. Just a five minute walk from my house, the stately orphanage houses 170 children ages 6 – 17. The unique thing about this particular orphanage is that it is the only one in the country that takes in orphans with mental disabilities.
First we talked with the director for an hour. She said she has been working there since 1963! She never imagined she would stay so long, but the kids became like her children and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. After, her assistant gave us a tour of the grounds and we got to meet some of the children. They were playing outside and as soon as they saw us they ran up to us to hold our hands and introduce themselves. One little boy had a small puppy in tote and he was so proud to show it off. The kids were so cute. A couple volunteers took out their cameras and the kids went crazy – they wanted to see the digital image after it had been snapped. For the rest of the tour they accompanied us, holding our hands, smiling, and chatting away. They didn’t want us to leave either, when it was time, and a followed us out to the gate to wave goodbye.
Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to plan an activity for the kids so we have an excuse to go back.
Also, today I had the privilege to attend the wedding of another volunteer’s sister. Their house (in my same village) was already bustling with activity when we arrived after language class, around lunchtime. Long tables with benches filled the courtyard and adjourning yards, hosting a feast for the eyes and the stomach. A large tent, constructed out of multi-colored and multi-patterned plastic sheets provided some shade for the grateful guests. By 2pm there must have been at least 150 guests eating and dancing to the live Turkish music.
It was interesting to observe the traditions that got acted out - precise and calculated. When the bride came out of the house, finally around 3pm she was completely covered and led by friends holding on to each of her arms. She was led to the middle of the open dance area, where the gifts from the groom’s family had been laid out on a plush rug. An older female relative lifted the cloak off the bride’s head so that everyone could see her beautiful white wedding gown. A long veil still covered her face, and her friends never left her side. While one woman opened and announced to the on looking crowds each gift, the bride bowed to show her thanks. This lasted a solid hour. The gifts were of the nature of perfume, rings, dresses, shoes, suits, and chocolate. After all of the gifts were announced, the bride receded back into the house.
At one point the M.C. announced each table of guests and invited them to dance for everyone. When he got to our table, unhesitatingly, he announced to all that we were visiting Americans and welcomed us warmly to dance. We obliged, making a spectacle of ourselves – trying to imitate the Turkish wedding dance we had been taught for the cultural event. Everyone stood up to get a better view; it was a long 5 minuets.
Around 5:30, with the celebration still going strong, we paid (literally – 50 Soms) and left – full bellied and exhausted. We were told that around 7pm the party would be moved to the groom’s parent’s house down the street where the party would continue until midnight. While there at the first house, we ate Russian salad (tomatoes, cucumbers, onions), flat bread, sheep meat, pastries, and cookies – all of which was merely the prelude to the main dinner. We drank peach soda, water with gas, root-beerish soda, and tried some red wine made in Kazakhstan. The wine had the consistency of syrup and resembled grape juice-gone-bad. Vodka bottles were placed on every table as well, but we all opted not to crack it open – being the responsible volunteers that we are.
Yesterday I had my permanent site placement interview with the SOCD (Sustainable Organizational and Community Development) Program Manager. She’s having trouble finding the perfect NGO for me to work with – that will fulfill my preferences, but she’s still working on some leads. She said most likely I will be in Bishkek, Jalalabad, or Osh, working with a women’s NGO. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
The reason I haven’t posted in a while is because there is a big summit conference in the capital with all the presidents from the surrounding countries, and therefore we are restricted to our villages for 2 weeks (for our safety).
I was in my room, gathering up my towel and shampoo this evening for my shower and as I was turning to leave something on the wall next to my bed caught my eye. There, a foot above my bed was the biggest, hairiest spider I have ever seen in my life. In a flash, eyes bulging, heart pounding, I ran for my host sister. When she came, confused at first, she too gasped with surprise at its monstrosity. We both agreed it was “chong!” which in Kyrgyz means very large. From the hallway I watched her, rolled newspaper as a bludgeon, swat the thing from the wall onto my bed, where she then preceded to wack it some more, check to see if it was still alive, and scoop and squish it with the paper – leaving a brownish residue on my sheet.
While showering I was thinking about how everyone on average eats eight spiders in their lifetime, and I wondered, do PCVs eat double? I’m afraid to sleep now.
Another two volunteers went home this week, not on account of spiders. I think sometimes, people just realize that this isn’t what they were expecting, or they don’t think it’s the right fit for them. To leave for that reason, I believe, it’s better to figure it out earlier on. I believe I’m very fortunate that I feel this is where I’m supposed to be right now.
I spoke with the country director yesterday about human trafficking, which – like everywhere else in the world, is a problem here. She explained to me the anti-trafficking efforts in Kyrgyzstan, and assured me that I would most likely be able to work with an NGO or regional network on the issue – for my secondary project, if not my first. I’m also looking forward to meeting her daughter who is coming to visit. She works for a major international NGO to monitor and combat trafficking in persons.
August 12, 2007
This weekend I went to the mountains for the first time in Kyrgyzstan. Though I see them everyday – from my house, while walking, from the marshutka – I finally got a chance to actually be in the mountains. In less than an hour’s drive we were far into the foothills of the mountains to the south. The bumpy road ran alongside a rushing river that grew wider the farther up we got. As the river got wider the houses got more and more sparse. In between fits of plains, horses, sheep, cowboys and their dogs roamed. Wheat and corn grew in vast slope-side fields. Goats so high up cliff-side I could picture them tumbling off with one wrong step. Along the side of the road, old women in floral headscarves and young children in bare feet sold raspberries, milk, honey.
Our destination was a popular tourist spot: hot springs. We parked, then hiked up to a strangely crowded fenced-in area. After paying a small fee we were admitted. One large blue concrete empty pool, and one small pool packed with people – enjoying the hot natural mountain water.
A paved bench-lined walkway led to a park with fountains, a few animal sculptures, and a hospital. There were also apartments and a mosque, both of which seemed out-of-place. My host mother explained to me that people come to this spot when they are sick because the hot springs have healing powers. They come to drink it and bath in it at its source.
In the park a large crowd gathered around a baby’s circumcision celebration.
On our way home we picnicked by the water, cool, as daunting rain clouds held between peaks. We ate cake three times for Asela’s fifteenth birthday.
August 15, 2007
This morning we got to visit the orphanage in our village. I knew that there was one here, but I had no idea that it was so close or so big. Just a five minute walk from my house, the stately orphanage houses 170 children ages 6 – 17. The unique thing about this particular orphanage is that it is the only one in the country that takes in orphans with mental disabilities.
First we talked with the director for an hour. She said she has been working there since 1963! She never imagined she would stay so long, but the kids became like her children and she couldn’t imagine doing anything else. After, her assistant gave us a tour of the grounds and we got to meet some of the children. They were playing outside and as soon as they saw us they ran up to us to hold our hands and introduce themselves. One little boy had a small puppy in tote and he was so proud to show it off. The kids were so cute. A couple volunteers took out their cameras and the kids went crazy – they wanted to see the digital image after it had been snapped. For the rest of the tour they accompanied us, holding our hands, smiling, and chatting away. They didn’t want us to leave either, when it was time, and a followed us out to the gate to wave goodbye.
Hopefully, we’ll get a chance to plan an activity for the kids so we have an excuse to go back.
Also, today I had the privilege to attend the wedding of another volunteer’s sister. Their house (in my same village) was already bustling with activity when we arrived after language class, around lunchtime. Long tables with benches filled the courtyard and adjourning yards, hosting a feast for the eyes and the stomach. A large tent, constructed out of multi-colored and multi-patterned plastic sheets provided some shade for the grateful guests. By 2pm there must have been at least 150 guests eating and dancing to the live Turkish music.
It was interesting to observe the traditions that got acted out - precise and calculated. When the bride came out of the house, finally around 3pm she was completely covered and led by friends holding on to each of her arms. She was led to the middle of the open dance area, where the gifts from the groom’s family had been laid out on a plush rug. An older female relative lifted the cloak off the bride’s head so that everyone could see her beautiful white wedding gown. A long veil still covered her face, and her friends never left her side. While one woman opened and announced to the on looking crowds each gift, the bride bowed to show her thanks. This lasted a solid hour. The gifts were of the nature of perfume, rings, dresses, shoes, suits, and chocolate. After all of the gifts were announced, the bride receded back into the house.
At one point the M.C. announced each table of guests and invited them to dance for everyone. When he got to our table, unhesitatingly, he announced to all that we were visiting Americans and welcomed us warmly to dance. We obliged, making a spectacle of ourselves – trying to imitate the Turkish wedding dance we had been taught for the cultural event. Everyone stood up to get a better view; it was a long 5 minuets.
Around 5:30, with the celebration still going strong, we paid (literally – 50 Soms) and left – full bellied and exhausted. We were told that around 7pm the party would be moved to the groom’s parent’s house down the street where the party would continue until midnight. While there at the first house, we ate Russian salad (tomatoes, cucumbers, onions), flat bread, sheep meat, pastries, and cookies – all of which was merely the prelude to the main dinner. We drank peach soda, water with gas, root-beerish soda, and tried some red wine made in Kazakhstan. The wine had the consistency of syrup and resembled grape juice-gone-bad. Vodka bottles were placed on every table as well, but we all opted not to crack it open – being the responsible volunteers that we are.
Yesterday I had my permanent site placement interview with the SOCD (Sustainable Organizational and Community Development) Program Manager. She’s having trouble finding the perfect NGO for me to work with – that will fulfill my preferences, but she’s still working on some leads. She said most likely I will be in Bishkek, Jalalabad, or Osh, working with a women’s NGO. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
The reason I haven’t posted in a while is because there is a big summit conference in the capital with all the presidents from the surrounding countries, and therefore we are restricted to our villages for 2 weeks (for our safety).
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
August 9, 2007
After searching the bazaar and a few small shops yesterday, I finally found my host sister a birthday gift at the supermarket - nail polish and lip gloss. 160 soms.
This coming Sunday we're planning a trip to some waterfalls with our village group and a few others, but we're not supposed to swim. It's over 100 degrees today and that's about all I want to do.
That's all I got for today - I'll write more next week! Enjoy the AC in the states.
This coming Sunday we're planning a trip to some waterfalls with our village group and a few others, but we're not supposed to swim. It's over 100 degrees today and that's about all I want to do.
That's all I got for today - I'll write more next week! Enjoy the AC in the states.
Tuesday, August 7, 2007
July 26, 2007
On Tuesday Karen, a fellow trainee turned 55 years old. We had a fabulous party at her Turkish host family’s house. About 8 other volunteers came and we danced, ate cake, and drank champagne. Her host brother and his friend taught us all some pretty cool Turkish dances. I took lots of pictures, so once I figure out how to upload them I’ll be sure to share.
Karen’s family, like most here, has two houses and a courtyard in between. The larger house is where the bedrooms are; and the kitchen and living room are in the smaller house. The courtyard in between the two buildings has a concrete floor and walls on 3 sides, along with a roof. There is a low stage-like structure in the courthouse covered with rugs and pillows. In the summertime, families usually eat most meals there because it’s outside, so it’s a bit cooler. Since it was nice out, we partied in the courtyard. The banya (which my family doesn’t have) and the outhouse are out back along with the water pump, gardens, cows, and chickens. She has a really nice house and family. Her host parents even gave a few of us rides home after, because she lives about 20 minutes away (walking).
One of the couples in my group, Meg and Theo, were semi-professional swing dancers before they came, so they busted out some extraordinary dance moves. At one point Theo even flipped Karen over his head – she was not expecting it, nor were any of us, which made it that much funnier.
This past Wednesday, on Hub Day, 5 current PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) came to talk with us and answer some questions, as well as co-facilitate some of the training sessions. There were 2 K-13’s, and the others were K-14’s (I’m K-15). It was great to finally meet some of them, because they could honestly tell us about what to expect, whereas the PC staff has an idea but can’t give us first hand experiences. They all seemed really happy with their jobs and living conditions. If I remember correctly, 3 of them live in cities, and the other in villages/ suburbs. One of the female PCVs said she had to learn how to budget. She also said her rural counterparts were saving money because they had lower living expenses. 38 soms = 1 USD.
It was also great to learn that the K14’s initiated a peer support network. Basically interested volunteers get extra training on how to peer counsel, so that if other volunteers need help to get through trying or challenging periods and situations, the peer supporters are available by phone – which the PC will reimburse, or can be available for face to face meetings – which the PC will reimburse upon approval. I think this might be an excellent opportunity for me to utilize the skills I learned in my cross-cultural counseling class at SIT.
I feel I should start a book list since I know I will be reading a lot. So far I’ve read:
1. A second Glance by: Jodi Picoult
2. A Man Without a Country by: Kurt Voughngart
3. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by: John Perkins
4. Letters to our Daughters by: Van Raden and Davis
5. The Road by: Cormac McCarthy
I recommend all of them! A Second Glance is set in Vermont and mentions Kyrgyzstan in its last chapter. Confessions mentions Peace Corps in its first. Coincidence or what?
If anyone has read any good ones and would like to donate them to me and my fellow PCVs, we’re trying to start a mini library. Please don’t send new ones just in case they don’t make it here. Email me and I’ll give you my address.
Sam – I think you would really like “The Road.” Read it.
Let me tell you a little bit about the food here in K-stan. Tea, bread, sugar, and soup seem to be the backbone of the diet. Temperatures above 100 degrees do not deter mothers from making soup. A typical breakfast is stale bread with butter, cheese, a ham-like meat, or chocolate cream, with a cup of instant coffee. One time I had a fried egg. And twice I had “French toast” (cooked in meat grease, not eggs/butter). A typical lunch is soup (homemade meat broth, potatoes, meat chunks, onions) with bread, tomatoes, and tea. And dinner is usually the same soup we had for lunch sometimes with noodles added, or Plov – which is rice with meat and veggies on top, and bread, and tea. Once my host father grilled meat on a stick, which was actually pretty good, and once we ate Pirates Gold! Which wasn’t as delicious as the can promised. It was black tuna fish in heavy oil. I almost forgot – at every meal you will find a bowl of hard candy and a bowl of cookies.
One of the current PCVs revealed that there are “Jesus Burritos” in Jalaabad, in the south. Not sure what exactly a Jesus Burrito is, but from what I hear it’s worth being placed in the south for the burritos alone.
There are supermarkets in the cities. In my village there is a small grocery store, called a magazine, which sells the essentials. Most produce is sold at bazaars or in the open -air markets, aka the side of the road. Watermelon is abundant and cheap - less than a dollar for a big one. My host mother grows tomatoes and potatoes. There are lots of apple trees in my village. Last week, when our neighbor slaughtered a cow, he hung the parts on the line to dry, like wet clothes. The meat stayed on the line for at least 5 days.
July 28, 2007
We had a field trip to the Capital today after language class. The main purpose was to see the historical museum, but it turned out to be a long, fun day. We heard a rumor that there was an American Pub in the city somewhere and we were determined to find it. The name of it was Fat Boys. They had burritos which we were all thrilled about – but they turned out not to be Mexican – if you can imagine an Indian curry chicken burrito with dill that’s pretty much what it tasted like.
My new friends include 2 married couples; one of the girls reminds me of my Stacey. I told her today and she said I remind her of her good friend April. My other friend Cameron is a diver and water skiing pyramid-er. A lot of us have cell phones now so we’ve been texting a lot. It really is a great group.
July 30, 2007
I just finished helping my host mom de-stem 6 kilos of currents. It took about 2 hours. She’s making jam tomorrow. She said it makes you feel better if you eat it with tea when your head or stomach hurts.
I found out this morning that our next-door neighbor had 5 sheep stolen yesterday. The police were there last night. The poor woman who lives there has 6 kids, and very little money. She was crying a lot. Her sons take care of the sheep and cows all day while she works at the house, so I think I understood that the sheep were stolen while they were out to pasture. They never came home. While my host mom was trying to relay the news to me this morning she looked up the word “pillage” in my mini-dictionary (it has become a permanent table fixture).
On a happier note, my Russian vocabulary is up to about 400 words. Tonight while helping with the currents my host mom said (in Russian) that when I got here she was afraid because I’m her first volunteer and she couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Russian, but now we’re just like family. She thinks I’m learning quickly, though most of the time it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve decided the best way to learn is to make a fool of myself – so when I try to formulate sentences or explain something in Russian I usually get a laugh out of everyone, and then they correct me.
July 31, 2007
Can’t believe tomorrow is August already! Time flies. If I were home I would have left for our annual family camping trip to Sebago Lake State Park yesterday. That is definitely something I will miss for the next two years. So far I have not been swimming in Kyrgyzstan, even though Lake Issukul is only about 2 hours away. This past Sunday, while visiting friends in another village, I did see a small reservoir, but didn’t attempt to swim with the cows that were enjoying the refuge of the cool water.
We met a few more K-14’s during our Technical Training today. They graciously answered the plethora of questions we bombarded them with, and also taught us how to facilitate strategic planning and SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats) Analysis of organizations. It was interesting.
Oh I almost forgot to talk about yesterday…so one of our Community Contact Assignments was to talk to a local business owner…that led to a few things. First, at the main store, Theo, Cameron and I struck up a conversation with one of the female employees who looked about our age. Well, since the entire store is about the size of my Dad’s kitchen, every other person in the store decided to listen to our conversation and get involved. As soon as we started talking, another young woman came right up and said, “Where are you guys from and why the heck are you here in Kyrgyzstan?” in perfect English. Turned out she’s the sister of the employee we were trying to talk to, who didn’t speak much English. They immediately started asking us questions and in the end invited us all over for tea later that evening.
After we left the store we walked down the street to find the bakery we had heard about. Though there was no store front, we saw people walking out of a house with bread, so we peaked inside – only to find a bread factory! The woman working immediately ushered us in and gave us a tour (I felt like we were literally inside the oven and baking), talking a million miles an hour in a Kyrgyz/ Russian mix until we explained that we were learning Russian. When she spoke in Russian we discovered that the bread factory started 5 years ago, now has 6 employees, and makes 3,000 loaves of bread (only 1 type) per day. I had never seen so much dough in my life! There was a huge bowl of dough rising, and while talking with us, the woman kept folding and punching it back nonchalantly into its container. They distribute the bread to the neighboring towns. They sell the loaves for 5 som each (38 som = 1 USD). When I asked to buy a fresh hot loaf they gave me one, but wouldn’t take my money. It was gigantic and probably the best bread I’ve ever had.
When I brought home the loaf, a coke for my sister Tina, who had helped me do laundry, and detergent – I felt like Santa. Coke, though less than a dollar a liter, is definitely a luxury, and it was obvious my sisters don’t drink it often. Eliza the three year old ran around the house yelling, “Coca-Cola! Coca-Cola! I love it!” for a good 20 minutes.
So after dinner last night, Cameron and Brian and I walked to the girls’ house for tea. Their little brother was standing in the street when we walked up and said, “come in please, my sisters are expecting you.” Turned out the one who speaks English wells goes to school in Dubai, which she explained is only a 4 hour plane ride from here. She is just visiting home for the summer and then going back to Dubai in the fall to finish her last year.
Later, upon returning home, my host mom was so proud that I had made a local friend and couldn’t stop laughing when I told her I couldn’t figure out my new friend’s name. I acted the scenario out for her, as if I were talking to my new friend and she had just told me her name. I said, “Sto?” and she repeated it, then I said, “sto?!” and she repeated it. And then I said to my mom, throwing up my hands, “Ne Zniyu.” (Translation: what?...what?...I have no idea.) Even later, when my host dad came home my host mom reenacted my skit for him; it was priceless.
August 1, 2007
We lost another 2 trainees this week. That’s 4 so far. The neighbors got their sheep back.
August 3, 2007
In the past day and a half I’ve dealt with my first bough of Peace Corps sickness. I started feeling really run down and tired yesterday, and but 11 pm last night my tonsils were red and swollen. During the night I visited the outhouse 5 times, and though it was cool outside I was sweating with a fever; my whole body ached; I barely slept. When 6:30 came this morning I took a cold shower, knowing I would face some criticism for it, but having not showered in 3 days I took my chances.
By the time I made it to the breakfast table, my host mom immediately saw I wasn’t feeling well and blamed it on the cold shower. Since all the other volunteers were coming to our village for a big cultural event/ celebration, I convinced my host mom I was well enough to go, and that the Medical Officer would be there and I would get some medicine.
The medical officer was not there, and after explaining my symptoms to twenty other people I finally got him on the phone, only to have him comment that I probably wasn’t drinking enough water. Karen came to my rescue and had me lie down on a blanket so she could do reiki to get my fever down, but then I was surrounded by my LCF, my host mom, and a couple of the other mothers giving me advice in Turkish, Kyrgyz, and Russian. They were all concerned that the ground was too cold and it would make me sicker, even though it was 75 degrees out, and they squabbled about which blankets to wrap me in. Around 10 am, after only being there for a little over an hour, my host mom walked me home. By this point I just wanted to sleep.
When I got home things got interesting…since Asela, Tina, Eliza and I had woken up with flea bites, Asela was disinfecting. I was ushered into the eating area, and my feet were put into a bucket of hot water. By the time I was finished my tea, my host mom took me to my room and had me undress. She proceeded to rub me down with Vodka - not sure if this was for the temperature, which was 101 by this point, or to ward off the fleas. I didn’t ask.
It’s 5pm now, and after resting all day I feel a bit better. My throat still hurts like crazy, but the fever and body aches are gone, which has made a huge difference. I’m bummed too that I missed the event today. Each village had a prepared skit that they performed. My village was performing a traditional Turkish wedding, which we had been practicing for two weeks. Other skits included bride kidnapping, a circumcision, and other traditional practices and celebrations. The costumes were great, and luckily I was able to take a couple photos before I left. Also planned for today was live Kyrgyz music, erecting a yurt, eating traditional/ national food that our mothers prepared in bulk, and playing traditional Kyrgyz games. Over 200 people participated including PC trainees, host families, and PC staff.
August 5, 2007
Apparently my body cannot handle 500mg of Erythromycin 3X/ day. I managed to make it to class somehow yesterday but made it only 2 hours in, before my teacher called the doctor. He asked what my symptoms were, and prescribed an antibiotic that my teacher had in her medical supplies. I was home by 10:30 am equipped with a week’s worth of antibiotics, halls, juice, and the prescription to drink lots of water and sleep.
By 11:30am I felt the wrath of the first pill swallowed. I though, “oh stupid me, I should have taken it with food.” Drained and unable to get out of bed, my host mom put a hot bowl of chicken soup on a small stool next to my bed around 3. By 6pm I had managed to keep half of it down. And by 8 I had enough strength to drag myself to the dinner table for another bowl. Right before bed I took another pill as directed – this time belly full. Throughout the long night, my convulsing stomach warranted little sleep, but by dawn I felt okay.
After breakfast – rolls with homemade jam and tea – I swallowed down my morning dose with skepticism. And later, while squatting on my haunches in the bushes outside, I was oddly not surprised that my body was yet again rejecting antibiotics for strep throat (this had happened once before).
At noon Karen showed up bearing gifts from her morning trip to the bazaar – lemons, ginger, licorice, and sage – to drink with tea. We walked together to Cameron’s to watch an afternoon movie, meeting up with the others along the way. But after my second trip to the bushes, dizzy and fatigued, I called it quits and said goodbye. On the short walk home I called the doctor (who I’m sure by this point was sick of hearing from me) and explained what was happening. He said he would deliver an alternative medication by the evening and encouraged me again to drink more water (3-4 liters).
It’s 10 pm now, and the fresh box of Amoxicillin is sitting stoic beside me – looking vengeful in its Cyrillic embossed packaging. My faith in drugs has faded, as my body screams don’t take it. I won’t. I’d rather be sore in the throat, than coiled in bed with nausea another day.
In between fits and rest I created my first imovie! It’s basically just a slide show of my photographs complimented with music and funky transitional effects. And I started another 2 books: “The Alchemy of Desire” by Tarun J. Tejpal and “The Essential Neruda Selected Poems.”
The number of fleabites per day has reduced but not subsided. When I see one jump on me I unsuccessfully attack it with a flat palm and a harsh word, then shake my sheets and go back to bed. With the passing of each day, strangely, I am bothered less and less.
August 6, 2007
For the second half of language class today we took a trip to the bazaar, with the task of finding out the cheapest prices for 25 different fruits and vegetables. It was a nice change of pace – and great to get up and moving around (after my long encampment in my room and house). Plus it gave us the opportunity to try out some of our new bargaining skills in Russian. Fortunately I’m feeling much better today.
My host dad and 13-year-old sister have temperatures and headaches, so the house is hushed – while they sleep I’m trying to catch up on studying and to stock up on power since there’s a rumor it will be out for a few days. My cell phone, computer, and ipod are recharging in their adapted sockets. In my room the scent of fresh cut lemons lingers with sage and ginger.
Brian, a fellow village trainee, requested a package from his mother last week. He asked us all what we wanted. I eagerly await the arrival of the shipment – and my savory cheese-its within.
Three days in the city this week with the whole group. Shot clinic on Wednesday. I apologize to those of you whose emails I have not yet replied to. As you can see, it’s been a while since I’ve had access to the Internet.
My new cell # is 0555-358-059. Not sure what the country code is. I heard texting from the states is possible, but thus far my mother has not texted me back – so I’m not convinced it works.
August 6, 2007
So my whole family has the flu – temperatures, sore throats, diarrhea and all. It’s not pretty. And I feel responsible. My family has looked at my Peace Corps issued briefcase of meds and first aid so they know my stash – of which I have no more cough drops or lozenges (no worries though – free refills).
I don’t think I’ve explained Marshutkas yet. Picture this: a minivan with 2 doors, a single row, aisle, and double row of seats. Seats 14. Cram another 20 – 25 people (who don’t shower often) on in the aisle, on top of each other, hanging from the ceiling rails, and that’s what my commute to the Hub Site (or anywhere outside of my village) is like. The catch is it’s cheap; 5 soms a ride. The drunks sit in the back; babushkas in the front.
Today we counted 37 people in the Marshutka at one time. Oh and the best part is – people are acutely superstitious about wind so the windows remain closed mostly. If it is 100 degrees outside, it will be 110-120 inside. Yesterday, while riding, I counted the number of people my body was smooshed against: 5. Ohh and the drivers are completely crazzzzy! On the road from my village to the Hub Site for example, it is clearly a main road with traffic going in both directions. There are not however, speed limits, lines, lanes, police patrols, or stop signs. It’s a free for all. A daily game of chicken. If there is a slow car in front, speed up and pass – don’t worry bout the oncoming traffic they will move. If a driver sees a person on the side of the road waving him down, the driver will go full speed to a screeching halt in seconds. Weaving around the donkeys and cattle mulling along the street’s dusty shoulder. As a passenger, it’s really only scary though if you’re in the front, where you can actually see the road ahead, or the cars/ trucks/ cows you just barely skim.
My host sister Asela’s birthday is on the 11th, so my job this week is to find something to give her. There are not really any stores clothing/ gift shops around, and with my luck, I’ll be lucky to purchase a carrot and a sock from the bazaar. My teacher suggested “shadows” I think she meant eye shadow. I really have no clue what to buy a 15 year old.
On Tuesday Karen, a fellow trainee turned 55 years old. We had a fabulous party at her Turkish host family’s house. About 8 other volunteers came and we danced, ate cake, and drank champagne. Her host brother and his friend taught us all some pretty cool Turkish dances. I took lots of pictures, so once I figure out how to upload them I’ll be sure to share.
Karen’s family, like most here, has two houses and a courtyard in between. The larger house is where the bedrooms are; and the kitchen and living room are in the smaller house. The courtyard in between the two buildings has a concrete floor and walls on 3 sides, along with a roof. There is a low stage-like structure in the courthouse covered with rugs and pillows. In the summertime, families usually eat most meals there because it’s outside, so it’s a bit cooler. Since it was nice out, we partied in the courtyard. The banya (which my family doesn’t have) and the outhouse are out back along with the water pump, gardens, cows, and chickens. She has a really nice house and family. Her host parents even gave a few of us rides home after, because she lives about 20 minutes away (walking).
One of the couples in my group, Meg and Theo, were semi-professional swing dancers before they came, so they busted out some extraordinary dance moves. At one point Theo even flipped Karen over his head – she was not expecting it, nor were any of us, which made it that much funnier.
This past Wednesday, on Hub Day, 5 current PCVs (Peace Corps Volunteers) came to talk with us and answer some questions, as well as co-facilitate some of the training sessions. There were 2 K-13’s, and the others were K-14’s (I’m K-15). It was great to finally meet some of them, because they could honestly tell us about what to expect, whereas the PC staff has an idea but can’t give us first hand experiences. They all seemed really happy with their jobs and living conditions. If I remember correctly, 3 of them live in cities, and the other in villages/ suburbs. One of the female PCVs said she had to learn how to budget. She also said her rural counterparts were saving money because they had lower living expenses. 38 soms = 1 USD.
It was also great to learn that the K14’s initiated a peer support network. Basically interested volunteers get extra training on how to peer counsel, so that if other volunteers need help to get through trying or challenging periods and situations, the peer supporters are available by phone – which the PC will reimburse, or can be available for face to face meetings – which the PC will reimburse upon approval. I think this might be an excellent opportunity for me to utilize the skills I learned in my cross-cultural counseling class at SIT.
I feel I should start a book list since I know I will be reading a lot. So far I’ve read:
1. A second Glance by: Jodi Picoult
2. A Man Without a Country by: Kurt Voughngart
3. Confessions of an Economic Hit Man by: John Perkins
4. Letters to our Daughters by: Van Raden and Davis
5. The Road by: Cormac McCarthy
I recommend all of them! A Second Glance is set in Vermont and mentions Kyrgyzstan in its last chapter. Confessions mentions Peace Corps in its first. Coincidence or what?
If anyone has read any good ones and would like to donate them to me and my fellow PCVs, we’re trying to start a mini library. Please don’t send new ones just in case they don’t make it here. Email me and I’ll give you my address.
Sam – I think you would really like “The Road.” Read it.
Let me tell you a little bit about the food here in K-stan. Tea, bread, sugar, and soup seem to be the backbone of the diet. Temperatures above 100 degrees do not deter mothers from making soup. A typical breakfast is stale bread with butter, cheese, a ham-like meat, or chocolate cream, with a cup of instant coffee. One time I had a fried egg. And twice I had “French toast” (cooked in meat grease, not eggs/butter). A typical lunch is soup (homemade meat broth, potatoes, meat chunks, onions) with bread, tomatoes, and tea. And dinner is usually the same soup we had for lunch sometimes with noodles added, or Plov – which is rice with meat and veggies on top, and bread, and tea. Once my host father grilled meat on a stick, which was actually pretty good, and once we ate Pirates Gold! Which wasn’t as delicious as the can promised. It was black tuna fish in heavy oil. I almost forgot – at every meal you will find a bowl of hard candy and a bowl of cookies.
One of the current PCVs revealed that there are “Jesus Burritos” in Jalaabad, in the south. Not sure what exactly a Jesus Burrito is, but from what I hear it’s worth being placed in the south for the burritos alone.
There are supermarkets in the cities. In my village there is a small grocery store, called a magazine, which sells the essentials. Most produce is sold at bazaars or in the open -air markets, aka the side of the road. Watermelon is abundant and cheap - less than a dollar for a big one. My host mother grows tomatoes and potatoes. There are lots of apple trees in my village. Last week, when our neighbor slaughtered a cow, he hung the parts on the line to dry, like wet clothes. The meat stayed on the line for at least 5 days.
July 28, 2007
We had a field trip to the Capital today after language class. The main purpose was to see the historical museum, but it turned out to be a long, fun day. We heard a rumor that there was an American Pub in the city somewhere and we were determined to find it. The name of it was Fat Boys. They had burritos which we were all thrilled about – but they turned out not to be Mexican – if you can imagine an Indian curry chicken burrito with dill that’s pretty much what it tasted like.
My new friends include 2 married couples; one of the girls reminds me of my Stacey. I told her today and she said I remind her of her good friend April. My other friend Cameron is a diver and water skiing pyramid-er. A lot of us have cell phones now so we’ve been texting a lot. It really is a great group.
July 30, 2007
I just finished helping my host mom de-stem 6 kilos of currents. It took about 2 hours. She’s making jam tomorrow. She said it makes you feel better if you eat it with tea when your head or stomach hurts.
I found out this morning that our next-door neighbor had 5 sheep stolen yesterday. The police were there last night. The poor woman who lives there has 6 kids, and very little money. She was crying a lot. Her sons take care of the sheep and cows all day while she works at the house, so I think I understood that the sheep were stolen while they were out to pasture. They never came home. While my host mom was trying to relay the news to me this morning she looked up the word “pillage” in my mini-dictionary (it has become a permanent table fixture).
On a happier note, my Russian vocabulary is up to about 400 words. Tonight while helping with the currents my host mom said (in Russian) that when I got here she was afraid because I’m her first volunteer and she couldn’t speak English and I couldn’t speak Russian, but now we’re just like family. She thinks I’m learning quickly, though most of the time it doesn’t feel like it. I’ve decided the best way to learn is to make a fool of myself – so when I try to formulate sentences or explain something in Russian I usually get a laugh out of everyone, and then they correct me.
July 31, 2007
Can’t believe tomorrow is August already! Time flies. If I were home I would have left for our annual family camping trip to Sebago Lake State Park yesterday. That is definitely something I will miss for the next two years. So far I have not been swimming in Kyrgyzstan, even though Lake Issukul is only about 2 hours away. This past Sunday, while visiting friends in another village, I did see a small reservoir, but didn’t attempt to swim with the cows that were enjoying the refuge of the cool water.
We met a few more K-14’s during our Technical Training today. They graciously answered the plethora of questions we bombarded them with, and also taught us how to facilitate strategic planning and SWOT (Strengths, Weaknesses, Opportunities, Threats) Analysis of organizations. It was interesting.
Oh I almost forgot to talk about yesterday…so one of our Community Contact Assignments was to talk to a local business owner…that led to a few things. First, at the main store, Theo, Cameron and I struck up a conversation with one of the female employees who looked about our age. Well, since the entire store is about the size of my Dad’s kitchen, every other person in the store decided to listen to our conversation and get involved. As soon as we started talking, another young woman came right up and said, “Where are you guys from and why the heck are you here in Kyrgyzstan?” in perfect English. Turned out she’s the sister of the employee we were trying to talk to, who didn’t speak much English. They immediately started asking us questions and in the end invited us all over for tea later that evening.
After we left the store we walked down the street to find the bakery we had heard about. Though there was no store front, we saw people walking out of a house with bread, so we peaked inside – only to find a bread factory! The woman working immediately ushered us in and gave us a tour (I felt like we were literally inside the oven and baking), talking a million miles an hour in a Kyrgyz/ Russian mix until we explained that we were learning Russian. When she spoke in Russian we discovered that the bread factory started 5 years ago, now has 6 employees, and makes 3,000 loaves of bread (only 1 type) per day. I had never seen so much dough in my life! There was a huge bowl of dough rising, and while talking with us, the woman kept folding and punching it back nonchalantly into its container. They distribute the bread to the neighboring towns. They sell the loaves for 5 som each (38 som = 1 USD). When I asked to buy a fresh hot loaf they gave me one, but wouldn’t take my money. It was gigantic and probably the best bread I’ve ever had.
When I brought home the loaf, a coke for my sister Tina, who had helped me do laundry, and detergent – I felt like Santa. Coke, though less than a dollar a liter, is definitely a luxury, and it was obvious my sisters don’t drink it often. Eliza the three year old ran around the house yelling, “Coca-Cola! Coca-Cola! I love it!” for a good 20 minutes.
So after dinner last night, Cameron and Brian and I walked to the girls’ house for tea. Their little brother was standing in the street when we walked up and said, “come in please, my sisters are expecting you.” Turned out the one who speaks English wells goes to school in Dubai, which she explained is only a 4 hour plane ride from here. She is just visiting home for the summer and then going back to Dubai in the fall to finish her last year.
Later, upon returning home, my host mom was so proud that I had made a local friend and couldn’t stop laughing when I told her I couldn’t figure out my new friend’s name. I acted the scenario out for her, as if I were talking to my new friend and she had just told me her name. I said, “Sto?” and she repeated it, then I said, “sto?!” and she repeated it. And then I said to my mom, throwing up my hands, “Ne Zniyu.” (Translation: what?...what?...I have no idea.) Even later, when my host dad came home my host mom reenacted my skit for him; it was priceless.
August 1, 2007
We lost another 2 trainees this week. That’s 4 so far. The neighbors got their sheep back.
August 3, 2007
In the past day and a half I’ve dealt with my first bough of Peace Corps sickness. I started feeling really run down and tired yesterday, and but 11 pm last night my tonsils were red and swollen. During the night I visited the outhouse 5 times, and though it was cool outside I was sweating with a fever; my whole body ached; I barely slept. When 6:30 came this morning I took a cold shower, knowing I would face some criticism for it, but having not showered in 3 days I took my chances.
By the time I made it to the breakfast table, my host mom immediately saw I wasn’t feeling well and blamed it on the cold shower. Since all the other volunteers were coming to our village for a big cultural event/ celebration, I convinced my host mom I was well enough to go, and that the Medical Officer would be there and I would get some medicine.
The medical officer was not there, and after explaining my symptoms to twenty other people I finally got him on the phone, only to have him comment that I probably wasn’t drinking enough water. Karen came to my rescue and had me lie down on a blanket so she could do reiki to get my fever down, but then I was surrounded by my LCF, my host mom, and a couple of the other mothers giving me advice in Turkish, Kyrgyz, and Russian. They were all concerned that the ground was too cold and it would make me sicker, even though it was 75 degrees out, and they squabbled about which blankets to wrap me in. Around 10 am, after only being there for a little over an hour, my host mom walked me home. By this point I just wanted to sleep.
When I got home things got interesting…since Asela, Tina, Eliza and I had woken up with flea bites, Asela was disinfecting. I was ushered into the eating area, and my feet were put into a bucket of hot water. By the time I was finished my tea, my host mom took me to my room and had me undress. She proceeded to rub me down with Vodka - not sure if this was for the temperature, which was 101 by this point, or to ward off the fleas. I didn’t ask.
It’s 5pm now, and after resting all day I feel a bit better. My throat still hurts like crazy, but the fever and body aches are gone, which has made a huge difference. I’m bummed too that I missed the event today. Each village had a prepared skit that they performed. My village was performing a traditional Turkish wedding, which we had been practicing for two weeks. Other skits included bride kidnapping, a circumcision, and other traditional practices and celebrations. The costumes were great, and luckily I was able to take a couple photos before I left. Also planned for today was live Kyrgyz music, erecting a yurt, eating traditional/ national food that our mothers prepared in bulk, and playing traditional Kyrgyz games. Over 200 people participated including PC trainees, host families, and PC staff.
August 5, 2007
Apparently my body cannot handle 500mg of Erythromycin 3X/ day. I managed to make it to class somehow yesterday but made it only 2 hours in, before my teacher called the doctor. He asked what my symptoms were, and prescribed an antibiotic that my teacher had in her medical supplies. I was home by 10:30 am equipped with a week’s worth of antibiotics, halls, juice, and the prescription to drink lots of water and sleep.
By 11:30am I felt the wrath of the first pill swallowed. I though, “oh stupid me, I should have taken it with food.” Drained and unable to get out of bed, my host mom put a hot bowl of chicken soup on a small stool next to my bed around 3. By 6pm I had managed to keep half of it down. And by 8 I had enough strength to drag myself to the dinner table for another bowl. Right before bed I took another pill as directed – this time belly full. Throughout the long night, my convulsing stomach warranted little sleep, but by dawn I felt okay.
After breakfast – rolls with homemade jam and tea – I swallowed down my morning dose with skepticism. And later, while squatting on my haunches in the bushes outside, I was oddly not surprised that my body was yet again rejecting antibiotics for strep throat (this had happened once before).
At noon Karen showed up bearing gifts from her morning trip to the bazaar – lemons, ginger, licorice, and sage – to drink with tea. We walked together to Cameron’s to watch an afternoon movie, meeting up with the others along the way. But after my second trip to the bushes, dizzy and fatigued, I called it quits and said goodbye. On the short walk home I called the doctor (who I’m sure by this point was sick of hearing from me) and explained what was happening. He said he would deliver an alternative medication by the evening and encouraged me again to drink more water (3-4 liters).
It’s 10 pm now, and the fresh box of Amoxicillin is sitting stoic beside me – looking vengeful in its Cyrillic embossed packaging. My faith in drugs has faded, as my body screams don’t take it. I won’t. I’d rather be sore in the throat, than coiled in bed with nausea another day.
In between fits and rest I created my first imovie! It’s basically just a slide show of my photographs complimented with music and funky transitional effects. And I started another 2 books: “The Alchemy of Desire” by Tarun J. Tejpal and “The Essential Neruda Selected Poems.”
The number of fleabites per day has reduced but not subsided. When I see one jump on me I unsuccessfully attack it with a flat palm and a harsh word, then shake my sheets and go back to bed. With the passing of each day, strangely, I am bothered less and less.
August 6, 2007
For the second half of language class today we took a trip to the bazaar, with the task of finding out the cheapest prices for 25 different fruits and vegetables. It was a nice change of pace – and great to get up and moving around (after my long encampment in my room and house). Plus it gave us the opportunity to try out some of our new bargaining skills in Russian. Fortunately I’m feeling much better today.
My host dad and 13-year-old sister have temperatures and headaches, so the house is hushed – while they sleep I’m trying to catch up on studying and to stock up on power since there’s a rumor it will be out for a few days. My cell phone, computer, and ipod are recharging in their adapted sockets. In my room the scent of fresh cut lemons lingers with sage and ginger.
Brian, a fellow village trainee, requested a package from his mother last week. He asked us all what we wanted. I eagerly await the arrival of the shipment – and my savory cheese-its within.
Three days in the city this week with the whole group. Shot clinic on Wednesday. I apologize to those of you whose emails I have not yet replied to. As you can see, it’s been a while since I’ve had access to the Internet.
My new cell # is 0555-358-059. Not sure what the country code is. I heard texting from the states is possible, but thus far my mother has not texted me back – so I’m not convinced it works.
August 6, 2007
So my whole family has the flu – temperatures, sore throats, diarrhea and all. It’s not pretty. And I feel responsible. My family has looked at my Peace Corps issued briefcase of meds and first aid so they know my stash – of which I have no more cough drops or lozenges (no worries though – free refills).
I don’t think I’ve explained Marshutkas yet. Picture this: a minivan with 2 doors, a single row, aisle, and double row of seats. Seats 14. Cram another 20 – 25 people (who don’t shower often) on in the aisle, on top of each other, hanging from the ceiling rails, and that’s what my commute to the Hub Site (or anywhere outside of my village) is like. The catch is it’s cheap; 5 soms a ride. The drunks sit in the back; babushkas in the front.
Today we counted 37 people in the Marshutka at one time. Oh and the best part is – people are acutely superstitious about wind so the windows remain closed mostly. If it is 100 degrees outside, it will be 110-120 inside. Yesterday, while riding, I counted the number of people my body was smooshed against: 5. Ohh and the drivers are completely crazzzzy! On the road from my village to the Hub Site for example, it is clearly a main road with traffic going in both directions. There are not however, speed limits, lines, lanes, police patrols, or stop signs. It’s a free for all. A daily game of chicken. If there is a slow car in front, speed up and pass – don’t worry bout the oncoming traffic they will move. If a driver sees a person on the side of the road waving him down, the driver will go full speed to a screeching halt in seconds. Weaving around the donkeys and cattle mulling along the street’s dusty shoulder. As a passenger, it’s really only scary though if you’re in the front, where you can actually see the road ahead, or the cars/ trucks/ cows you just barely skim.
My host sister Asela’s birthday is on the 11th, so my job this week is to find something to give her. There are not really any stores clothing/ gift shops around, and with my luck, I’ll be lucky to purchase a carrot and a sock from the bazaar. My teacher suggested “shadows” I think she meant eye shadow. I really have no clue what to buy a 15 year old.
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