ab Chasing Kate: January 2006

Thursday, January 26, 2006

... it pours.

We all know the saying, when it rains, it pours. Well, for the last week, it's been pouring. You know those old Charlie Brown cartoons when there is a miniature cloud that's raining on Charlie Brown even though the rest of the sky is clear? That's how I feel. I know that the whole point of being here is to integrate into our villages and to assess the needs of the community to help implement strategies for improvement and I hate to say this but if my time here continues like my last week has, I am never going to leave my room again.

(Censored by Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan)

People ask me whether is better here or there and I try to explain in the most diplomatic way possible that it's not better here, it's not better there, it's different and impossible to compare. There are good things and bad things about every single place in the world (okay, except Australia) and if things were so much better than America, then why am I here right now? I know that every generation, people want to do better than the generation before them. But I wish I could tell them that better isn't necessarily America. They only have this idea of what it is and don't understand that there is struggle no matter where you are. Not everyone is happy there either.

I guess this is something that I am going to have to get used to because I don't think it's going to change or stop anytime soon, so the only thing I can do is change the way I react to it and file it under the curiosity of others. I know I can't take everything personal, but it's easy to forget sometimes. I feel like I have been wandering around for the last 4 with my head in the clouds soaking up a different culture and experience but now my sponge is full so everything is just overflowing and I don't see any way to control or stop it. I hate speaking in analogies but I really don't have any other way to explain it. I guess my only solution at this point is to figure out the things I am and am not willing to do, then say yes to the things I am and find out a way to gracefully decline the things I am not.

It's not easy being here, sometimes it is a struggle to even find the energy to get out of bed. It's easy to lose sight of why I am here and my purpose but hopefully it will become clear soon.

Friday, January 20, 2006

We both like soup.

(Censored by Peace Corps Kyrgyzstan)

I've lived in my village for a little over a month here and the only two places I have been are to my home, and school and to other people's houses when I go guesting. I figured it would be good for me to actually learn the names of the streets and where everything is situated. I asked my favorite student, Danier to accompany me on my excursion. We walked everywhere and I learned that my village has a pool that operates in the summer. A pool! I can't even tell you how excited I am to lounge around poolside with a good book. It only costs 15 sohm a day- I already know where my living allowance is going for the months of June, July and August.

Tomorrow I am going to learn how to make borshe (a delicious Russian soup, and one of my favorite meals here) at one of my students houses. I never realized how much I miss living with a Russian family. I went over to her house for lunch the other day and her mom ran out of the house, showered me with kisses and treated me like her long-lost daughter. I guess I just don't elicit the same reaction from my Kyrgyz family.

Friday, January 13, 2006

Not Bad.

This summer, my brother's girlfriend Kathy (hey Kat!) called it to my family's attention that we always describe things as "not bad". She asked why we say that, wouldn't it be better to say good, awesome, or excellent? I really didn't have a good answer for her. Well my family here started catching on, too. I always say "ne plo-ha" which in Russian means, of course, not bad. My dubious cousin (who is losing his dubiousness day by day) has even started to say it in English. Now the 3 words that he knows in English are: not, bad, and boyfriend. I have no idea where he picked up that third one because I certainly didn't teach it to him.

So I have been struggling with the decision whether or not I should say with my host family. This is a really hard decision for me because I don't want to jump from the frying pan into the fire, so to speak. Living in a sorority house definitely has it's trade-offs. I have a lot of independence and they aren't constantly yelling at me to put on my "shapka" (hat, in Russian), but at the same time, I think I take a small downgrade in living conditions. For example, I was cleaning out my water distiller and I noticed a bunch of drowned ants in it. (Is it wrong that my first thought after seeing their little swimming bodies, I thought, "well, at least I'm getting some protein"?) Anyways, I am pretty sure a Russian or Kyrgyz mother (whose job it is to take care of the household) would never let their house be infested by ants.

On the other hand, Jildes, my favorite and middle sister and I have become increasingly closer. We manage to have these half English, half Russian conversations and I have discovered that our personalities are very similar. She's got a good sense of humor and she doesn't take any crap from anyone. I went guesting with her pretty much every night last week and I met a lot of her friends and I'm starting to feel like I actually have a life here. And hanging out with her and her friends who are educated have helped me dispel many stereotypes regarding cultural gender roles. I have actually seen (gasp!) some boys pour tea! I have actually watched (gasp!) some boys do their own laundry! I have even heard (gasp!) some boys denounce their age-old tradition of kidnapping their brides! Some of the ones that are not as progressive even agree that at least the girl should consent to the kidnapping before it happens.

So I've banya'd with my friends and family but last weekend was my first trip to the public banya in Bishkek. (My sister and I tried to go to a private banya in my village but by 9 p.m. all the hot water was gone). It was basically an old soviet warehouse that was converted into a bath house. Imagine just one big room with a few open showers on the perimeter and a big open area with some benches to put your stuff down on. Being here has forced me to be comfortable being naked in front of people, you really have no choice... be smelly, or be naked with 40 other women... Even being on the street, I have gotten used to the people staring at me (am I really that hideous?) but I must have been the first American in that public banya ever because they didn't let their eyes wander off of me for even one second. Every square inch of my body was thoroughly inspected by these women. At one point, I felt like putting my arms above my head and twirling so everyone could get a good look so I could go back to washing. Then my sister and I took turns beating each other, which surprisingly I have gotten used to (Tiffany, you better not be laughing, you're next when I get back).

Wednesday, January 04, 2006

Try This.

I thought the thing I hated the most about being here was doing my laundry. Since you have to do everything by hand, your hands freeze, your arms get tired and by the end of it your wrists feel like jelly. Cleaning anything here seems to be the most difficult and time-consuming task. As much as I love banyas, it's probably good that I only take them once a week because everytime I do, I'm in there for about an hour. Talk about a waste of time! So anyways, I have now discovered my new least favorite thing to do, and it should be the most joyous- going to the post office. Dun dun dun. I love getting mail, I love writing mail, but going to the post office has proved to be more stressful than I ever imagined. There are three different rooms and all the ladies that work there know who I am. And they hate me. I am a pain, so I don't blame them. They each send me to a different room, running in circles asking everyone for a letter or package and I secretly think they are behind the bars ripping them all open and throwing them in the trash out of spite. So to try to avoid ever having to step foot in that post office again, I am going to see what happens when someone sends a letter directly to my house. SO here is my address. I don't care if the letter just says "Hi. Love, (so and so)" I just want to see if it actually works so I can avoid the post office like the plague that it is. Thank you.

(Note, I haven't recieved any mail at my home address so you guys can continue to use


Central Post Office
Bishkek 720000
Kyrgyzstan
Persavich

and the post office ladies can continue to hate me).

Monday, January 02, 2006

C Novie Godom!

C Novie Godom means Happy New Year's in Russian. Yes, that's the only thing I know how to say. So Phil, Bohee and I went back to our original village to visit our old host families, and they were as happy to see us as we were to see them so it was nice to be back "home". In Kyrgyzstan, they don't just party for New Years Eve here, they party the entire next day too. For New Years Eve, Phil's Mom and Bohee's Dad came running in my house dressed as Santa and pretty much kidnapped me to take me guesting. We ate, drank, and danced our butts off until 4 in the morning. So the next day, I go over to Bohee's house thinking I would just lounge around all day and recover from the night before. Not so. The vodka came pouring out at 11:30 in the morning. We all shot each other an oh-my-God-we're-going-to-die-today look, but we all stuck together so it wasn't too bad. We spent the rest of the day visiting the houses of all our old host families and went guesting for another 12 hours. 12 hours! Did I mention that we were running on 4 hours of sleep from guesting the night before? Phil, the big man that he is had to bear the brunt of the hazing but Bohee and I could get by calling ourselves girls. It's amazing the hospitality of the people here. In one house we went to we were the only 3 people there and within 5 minutes the previously empty table was covered with tons of food, wine and vodka and the room was overflowing with family members. With the three of our language skills combined we could actually hold a real conversation. We can't believe it, but we actually survived our first holiday here and we had so much fun. If it's one thing they know how to do here, it's to have a good time and throw one hell of a party.