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.