Remnants of the Soviet Era

There are so many things here that are different from the U.S., and it’s hard to relate them all. I’m getting used to my new life here, and so I sometimes forget that everything was so strange to me a month ago. I’ve been making notes of the differences to write about and I’ll keep trying to do that.

First of all, many people are still in the Soviet mindset. The LCF (Language and Cross-Cultural Facilitator) in the neighboring village is a prime example. If the trainees ask her something she’s already said, she gets mad. I guess its not efficient to repeat yourself. Of course we’ll repeat questions; language is a hard thing to learn. We can’t remember everything the first time we hear it. Also, everyone has the same items in their homes. Everyone’s dishes are the same. The same baby carriages. And everyone wears almost exactly the same clothes. Its like a government issued way of living.

The Kyrgyz people seem to have liked the Soviet Union. They didn’t have it as hard as some people, and I think a lot of extra things were given out. When the government fell, people lost jobs, farm machinery, and lots of other things. So it went from everyone having their own tractor, to maybe one friend of a distant cousin having one. I think they miss the government help. And one of the major issues is getting people to organize themselves to make things happen, rather than relying on the government to do things for them. That will probably be my job for the next 2 years – helping people to function in a business. I haven’t thoroughly investigated the sentiments toward the Soviet Union yet; my language needs to be a little better first.

The cartoon shows on television here are great. They’re very simple and innocent. I think they’re at the same level as what would have been playing in the U.S. in the 50s and 60s. They’re fantastic. Yesterday I watched Cinderella in Russian. I’ve seen it so many times that I know almost the entire script. I actually didn’t mind that it wasn’t in English. Sitcoms are dubbed in Russian, but you can still here the English. That’s annoying, because I’m constantly trying to here the English.

The Russians have redone a few American shows. ‘The Nanny’ is done in Russian. They use almost the exact same cartoon beginning, the same song, the same characters, and house setup. I wonder if the Kyrgyz here know its an American show. The same is done for ‘Who Wants to Be a Millionaire?’ and ‘Wheel of Fortune.’ The Russian Wheel of Fortune is crazy and I haven’t figured it out yet. For some reason the contestants will put random things like wine, kumus (fermented mare’s milk – an alcoholic beverage), musical instruments, etc. up on the wheel. I don’t know what happens to the stuff either. I haven’t paid too much attention, because its not fun to watch when you can’t guess the phrase.

The babies in the villages are CHUBBY. All of them. They don’t have necks. Their arms and legs consist of rolls and their heads are huge. Its hard to imagine them ever being small enough to fit inside a mama. They lose the weight as they start running around, but they hurt you’re arms to hold when they’re babies.

My host nephew is a little devil. He doesn’t listen to a single person and does whatever he wants. He’s 4 years old and no one has control over him. Sometimes there will be 7 adults trying to tell him to behave, and he still doesn’t listen. When he was 2 he drank vinegar. In Kyrgyzstan, the vinegar is between 75% and 100%. If its on your hands it will burn you, and if an adult male drinks one cup he could die. So this child drank it and burned up his insides. He was in the hospital for 8 months and had stitches in his stomach, throat and ears. He’s fine now, but they let him run rampant because they’re so happy he’s alive. Now that he’s become a monster, there’s no turning back.

Not much new

The other day I was sitting on the wall at a bus stop in Tokmok, reading a book. I noticed the people standing near me -there weren't many and they weren't close. I was interrupted by someone touching me and I was completely caught off guard. I looked up and it was a sheep checking me out. It sniffed my book, my pants and left a snot puddle on my shoe. That morning my neighbors sheep ran away from me on the road. So I was stoked when the bus stop sheep let me pet it and chilled with me for a few minutes.

YOU'LL POOP BLOOD IF YOU DRINK WATER!

Seriously, that's what Shair-Apa told us on Monday after we ate besh-barmak with horse meat. That's right - horse. Not just meat, but stomach and intestines as well. (Besh-barmak translates to five fingers. Its noodles with butter, onions, and boiled meat. Very fatty). The horse that was slaughtered was bred for eating. It was never ridden. The taste is a little tangy, and has a strange aftertaste that I don't know how to describe. It was a situation where it would have been extremely rude to decline the horse meat. And I'm here to integrate, right? So I ate a horse.

Mike & Brenda's host grandfather died on Saturday and the funeral was on Monday. Two yurts were constructed in their yard. They were decorated with felt rugs inside and around the outside. For 3 days and nights there were at least 75 people at that house at any given time. The grandfather's body was laid in one yurt and that's where friends and family could go to see the body. On Monday, the family washed the body and covered it, then carried it to the road. The men all stood on the road with the body and the imam, and the women stood to the side and back a distance. The imam said a blessing and then read the Koran. The men then did a series of gestures and chants. Almost as if on cue, the women started wailing loudly when the ceremony was finished. It was very uncomfortable for us Americans to witness that type of grieving for the first time. The daughters were then led back to the yurt where the body had been, while the men walked the body to graveyard. On the burial day, only men are allowed in the cemetery. The guys told us that at the cemetery they do more chants and blessings and everyone puts a handful of dirt on a shovel which they then toss onto the body. As they walk home the men do a chant that sounds like crying. When they arrived back at the house they went back to the yurt, bowed in front of it and prayed. Then lunch was served. It was an intense day and we didn't understand much of it. Sorry I can't give you reasons behind the rituals yet.

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When they say corruption is rampant in this country, they aren't exaggerating. Here's an example. The local municipality collects money for the water & electricity and then pays the federal government. But they don't always pay. For a week and a half no one in town had water. I was starting to mentally plan for a winter without water. It was just turned back on on Monday. I'm amazed at how excited I was when I saw water dripping from the faucet. I'm really learning to appreciate the small things.

ВеНЕРА was telling me that her 2 boys are being circumcised in December. They're having a big party afterwards and I think I'm invited to come back to Bolshevik for it. I'll already be moved out by then. In Kyrgyzstan the boys are circumcised when they're 2 years or older, but luckily they get anesthesia. And it’s a tradition, not a religious thing. I've never been to a circumcision party before, and I'm excited. It also doubles as a 1 year birthday party for the baby.

Ramadan in Bolshevik

I live east of Bishkek, about 10 miles southwest of Tokmok (on the map). The village is called Bolshevik, but people who don't live here lump it together with the nieghboring village of Ak-Beshim. Together the villages have about 400-500 people. Its close to Kazakhstan, but we're not allowed to go there yet because we don't have visas. And to get into China, I'm pretty sure we have to fly there. But that's second-hand news from other volunteers, so who knows.

I'm adding a few more things to my list of needs/wants. Check out the end of this entry if you are considering sending a package. And I'm adding pictures of the hotel we stayed at in Bishkek. But they'll be dated for september, so look for them.

10/13/05
Last night I was having tea with the Turkish family that lives next door to me. Salbina, my new friend, is their granddaughter. She was telling me that the daughter-in-law, who is only 20 with 2 kids, is a bad wife because she didn't hang up her jacket and doesn't mend clothes. This poor girl was doing everything, while the family sat around and talked. I think I would be the worst wife ever in this culture (if I was inclined to get married).

And yesterday afternoon I got my third round of vaccinations. That makes 11 shots since I've been in country and they're not done yet. I'm always sore and sluggish for a couple days afterwards, but I've been doing well other than that. My roommate for the staging event and first few days in country passes out when she gets shots. At least I'm not that bad off.

I know you all want to see pictures, but both of my cameras are out of commission. I'm pretty sure the digital camera needs new batteries and the video camera is beyond me. I don't know what I'm going to do about that yet. But please send pictures to me (in the mail, they don't work well on the internet). My photo album is only half full, and my host family wants to see more!



10/12/05
This morning I saw my favorite kids' outfit yet. There were six of us waiting on the road for our marshrutka driver this morning. A boy of about 4-5 years ran by in blue long underwear, a light blue long sleeve t-shirt, a purple velour vest, black socks and green sandals. And he was happy as a clam. It was cold too, we were all wearing heavy coats.

Two days ago I stopped to talk to the Turkish ladies on the street. There’s one lady in particular who just cracks me up. She speaks Kyrgyz really fast and then laughs when I don’t understand. But she has a loud, jolly laugh and wears colorful, mismatched village clothes. She’s one of my favorites. While I was sitting with her, one of the other village ladies walked by with her flock of sheep. She wanted to talk to my funny Turkish friend so she told her sheep to stop. And they did. They just waited right where they were in the middle of the road. When she was done talking she gave another command and they started walking again. Like a bunch of dogs. I absolutely love village life.

Later that night, I was at my teacher’s house and she asked if I wanted to go with her to my neighbor’s house. She is staying with a Turkish family and my neighbors are the grandparents of her host family. We went there for a Ramadan tradition to remember the dead. These are bits and pieces of information I’ve put together. Ramadan lasts for 30 days and the remembrance of the dead lasts the whole time. People were at this house all day – reading the Koran, slaughtering a sacrificial sheep, and cooking the sacrificial sheep. When I got there they ushered me into the house where the men were seated in one room and the women in another. A tablecloth is laid out on the ground and the food on top of that. And around the tablecloth there’s tushuks to sit on. I only stayed for tea and the first course (soup). A little while after they’d served the soup everyone became silent. One of the men in the other room was reading a passage from the Koran. These readings are supposed to take about 3 minutes, but this guy made it close to 15. It was in Arabic, so I had no idea what was going on. After about 10 minutes the women started talking and laughing, and eventually the men were laughing in the other room. Everytime we thought he was finished, he would start up again. Turns out it was his 81st birthday. He has the right to take as long as he wants with the Koran. And I don’t think he even noticed that everyone was laughing.

Balykchy & MTV VMAs - Good Times

This blog entry is partly taken from my journal so it’ll go back over the last few weeks. Most of the good stuff is already written there, anyhow.

9/22/05
For technical training, the business volunteers travel to Ivanovka every Tuesday. This morning on the way to training we saw a small green car driving with the back seat full of apples. And I mean FULL. They weren’t in crates and they were up to the top of the car and pressed against the windows. There must have been a divider between the front and back seats b/c they didn’t seem to be falling on the driver. After that we stopped ata bazaar where I picked up a few things and found a COLD orange Fanta. In Kyrgyzstan they don’t drink anything cold and they don’t even have drinks with every meal. This is actually a very superstitious culture and one of the beliefs is that cold things make you sick. For example, if a woman sits on concrete (summer or winter) they say your ovaries will freeze and will insist you sit on a blanket. Another is if someone has a fever they want to give them hot (caffeinated) tea. Room temperature water is considered cold as well. I attribute this superstition to the insanely cold weather they get in the winter. My family doesn’t get upset when I do things wrong like some other host families – thank goodness.

I also did laundry for the first time since coming to Kyrgyzstan. We do it by hand without a washboard. Just a bucket, water and soap. They have Barf soap, which I’ve heard is a Tide brand but I have yet to investigate that. Anyhow, I thought I had done a superb job, but I was wrong. I didn’t rinse the clothes enough, so they still had soap in them. While I was hanging it up, I asked ВеНЕРА if it was good but she just laughed. And then АЗИЗ laughed too. I felt a little foolish, but you really can’t be a PCV and get embarrassed about many things.

10/03/05
This morning as I was leaving the house, my Ata chased me down on the road. I thought I had forgotten something. He came to give me the pen I had left on the outside table last night. And it wasn’t even mine. It made me snap back from my whiny, homesick selfishness. I guess the thought didn’t cross his mind that I have more than one pen. They value everything more than we do, even a pen.

On Saturday, it was Kanykei’s birthday (my teacher). We got her a cake and went to her house to surprise her. She already knew about it, but that didn’t matter. All the Apas found out about the birthday, so they got a cake as well. Then her husband and kids came with a third cake. We all ate, drank tea and danced on the patio. Another volunteer’s Apa has decided we should get married and wants to buy me for him. I told her I didn’t want to marry him, but I wouldn’t settle for less than 20 horses. In this culture, a few cows are appropriate. But 20 horses is equivalent to $20,000 and is an outrageous sum for a bride price. That was my point because I would never consider this Andrew character. Another Apa wants me to be her daughter-in-law too. I guess that’s what they tell you when they like you. Lucky me.

10/06/05
I went to Balykchy to visit current PC volunteers. All of the trainees got to go to various areas around the country. Balykchy is the first city on Lake Issyk-Kul when you’re coming from Bishkek. It was an industrial city during the Soviet era, but when the Soviet Union collapsed it became a bit of a ghost town. All of the factories have shut down but there’s still smog lingering over the city. Everywhere you look is rocks and falling down buildings. Its windy, dusty and not pleasant. Regardless, we had a great time. The volunteers we visited are awesome and it was great to have some autonomy.

One of the volunteers took me to a public БАНЯ (bathhouse). Its intimidating to think about stripping naked and walking in front of other women, but its not. Its surprisingly liberating. The women (and men) in this country are so comfortable with seeing the naked body that it didn’t even phase me. In the U.S., women always tend to judge each other, though we try not to. But this experience really helped me to appreciate the female body. I left there feeling awesome because I was clean and had confronted one of my big inhibitions.

In the last few days quite a few people have asked if I’m Indian and one asked if I’m Arab. I can’t figure out if they mean Native American (one girl said my eyes made me look Indian) or India (because of my nose ring and jewelry). The Kyrgyz people don’t have much experience with other ethnicities, so I’m guessing they’ve thought I was both.

10/08/05
Today Salbina (my new Turkish friend) was teaching me how to knit Turkish socks. I’m going to attempt to make a pair of my own before I move out of this town. That would be pretty cool if I could learn how to knit like she does. When I came home from her house my host family was making manty (similar to periogies or potstickers). I jumped in the assembly line with them and told them I’m turning into a Kyrgyz girl (I was also wearing a scarf on my head). They all got a good chuckle out of that. I asked if they were having a party because that is a time consuming dish to make, and they told me it was a celebration of me coming home from Balykchy. They’re quite the schmoozers cause I ate it up.

After we finished making manty I cleaned my room. When I moved in, Apa had given me flowers and they were still in my room. I brought them out to the burn pile because they were dead. I came back to the kitchen a few minutes later and Apa had cut fresh flowers from the garden and refilled my vase. She’s so sweet. There’s not many flowers left as its getting colder. I got some of the few that are left.

10/09/05
The MTV Video Music Awards were the big event at my house tonight. Its amazing how I’ll sit and happily watch American garbage just because I’m starved for anything familiar. I was glad that I only knew a few songs though, because I thought most of it was crap. Pepsi had an insanely cheesy commercial on – I’m talking Mentos happy, you know people happy on their cell phones, happy walking down the street, happy frolicking in a field of poppies – and it lasted for at least a minute. Air time is so much cheaper here and that’s honestly the first commercial I’ve seen since I arrived. Every other advertisement has been run across the bottom of the screen, like a storm warning.

PCV Visits

This week we get to visit the volunteers who have been in country for a year. I'm in a little cafe across the street from Lake Issyk-Kul. The town is very quaint and attracts lots of tourists in the summer. We've been having a great time and learning to cook adaptations of American food around here. We just didn't know what the good brands are to buy. We learned grilled cheese and french toast, and tonight we're learning to make pizza - Kyrgyz style. Its starting to get cold here, and I'm afraid of the winter. We're finding out our permanent sites next month, and I'm not sure if I want to go to the -30 C region, but I will if that's what they ask me to do. There's people waiting outside for me, so I'll type up more on my computer for next time I'm able to post.

I love and miss you all. I'll send out some postcards soon, but my schedule is pretty hectic for all of training. After December, things will settle down.

P.S. I still haven't gotten any mail, but I know you all wouldn't forget about me.